Football and Ballet - Jason Collins Page 0,1
you’re an asshole now, all right? Everyone thinks that you’re some sexist pig who likes to leer at the cheerleaders after a game, and that you think boys can’t be cheerleaders.”
“Lou, come on, you know that’s not me—”
“Shut your trap, Hunter.” Lou mimed pulling a zipper across his mouth. “Listen, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to bench you for a few games, just until the heat dies down from this article. We don’t need people protesting on the sidelines or any of that shit.”
“What the hell? I’m the one getting benched?” I scoffed. “What about Brandon? He’s the one who said that shit.”
“No one cares about Brandon, Hunter.” Lou leaned back in his chair. “No one’s even going to remember that Brandon was on the team next year. But you? You’re like our fucking mascot. When you fuck up, it reflects badly on all of us—”
“But I didn’t even fuck up. I didn’t do anything wrong,” I argued. “Lou, you can’t bench me because of a fucking misunderstanding—”
“Hunter, you’re the only one who isn’t understanding things here,” Lou replied. “Look, I get it, all right? You weren’t really laughing at what Brandon said. That doesn’t matter because everyone thinks that you were. Which means, you have to pay the Asshole Tax this time around.”
“And what about my sponsorship deals?” I kept my voice low. “What am I supposed to tell the brands about why I’m not playing in the next game?”
“You tell them that you’re sorry about the fuck-up, and that you’re making amends behind the scenes.” Lou shrugged. “Trust me, they’ll understand. Besides, they’d rather have you at home licking your wounds than digging yourself into an even bigger hole.”
“So, that’s it? I’m benched. Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Lou said before he stared down at a pile of paper on his desk. “Now, get the hell out of my office. I’ve got more important things to deal with—”
“Lou—”
“Kid, I love you, but you’re testing my patience,” Lou replied. “Get out of my office before I take you out of the will.”
“Lou, just hear me out—”
“Get outta here!”
“Lou really benched you?” My sister, Elana, looked at me with a pained expression. “Seriously?”
I’d called Elana as soon as I’d walked out of Lou’s office, inviting her out for a nice lunch, courtesy of my wallet.
Elana had been my PR manager ever since I’d made it to the big leagues. Much like Lou, she seemed to have a business mode and a family mode, with an on/off switch only visible to her. Elana always approached things from an even point of view, which I hoped was going to make her great at tackling my current PR problem; her detached nature potentially offering her insight I couldn’t see for myself.
Although, I liked Elana a lot better when she was in family mode. She was the only family I had left after our parents passed away, and she was also my biggest cheerleader, too. Elana believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself, and I didn’t think I would have made it this far in my life without her on my team.
“Yeah. Seriously.” I nodded. “I’m sorry, Elana. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t even listen to me—”
“That’s okay. Lou’s like a father to you—to us—so I’m sure if he pulled you out of the next game, he had a really good reason.” Elana twirled a strand of spaghetti around her fork as she spoke. “And I can handle the sponsors. You don’t need to worry about that part.”
“Thanks, Elana.” I let out a sigh of relief before taking another bite of my meal.
“Hunter, why the hell did you bring me back to Gino’s?” Elana whined, still twirling her spaghetti. “You know I can’t resist this pasta. And you know I’m supposed to be on a diet.”
“I know.” I grinned. “I brought you to Gino’s because you’re supposed to be on a diet. You know how you get when you don’t have enough carbs in your system.”
“So, what? I get a little hangry.”
“No, you get a little homicidal.”
“Hey, I’ve never tried to kill you when you were awake for it,” she joked. “Not even once.”
“Yeah, but I thought today would finally be the day you tried,” I admitted. “Especially since I was bringing you some bad news.”
“You’re not bringing me bad news, Hunter,” she explained. “You’re bringing me an opportunity.”
“An opportunity?”
“Mmhmm.” Elana hummed. “We’re going to turn your little PR nightmare into a PR dream.”
“How