Football and Ballet - Jason Collins Page 0,27
hiding him, anyway? Or was it the other way around? Was he hiding you because he doesn’t want people thinking he’s dating a bench rider?”
“Tristan, I swear to God.” I rose up from the bench, taking a few steps toward him. “If you come at me with that shit again, I’ll fucking lay you out.”
“Why? Because no one’s allowed to talk about your relationship?” Tristan said with a mocking tone. “Because it’s something special and private between you two?”
“No, because you know it’s not true,” I answered. “And you’re just repeating that shit to piss me off.”
“Man, fuck off with that.” Tristan scoffed. “You act like you’re the only one here who’s had Esther spread bullshit rumors about them. Do you know what Esther said about me last week?”
“No, because I don’t care about you enough to look you up.”
“Ooh, okay, big man.” Tristan rolled his eyes. “What she said was that I was violating my contract by entertaining offers from other teams.”
“And you aren’t?”
“Why the fuck would I be entertaining offers from other teams when I’m one asshole away from being the next big thing?” Tristan beamed. “As soon as you fucking retire, old ass.”
“Yeah, well, that might be sooner than you think if this Esther shit sticks around.”
“Look, man.” Tristan lowered his tone. “I know you and I aren’t friends or any of that shit, but you can’t let bullshit rumors get you down like that. There’s always going to be people out there like Esther Ruiz, jealous they can’t be where we are, so they try to take us down. And you know how it is with women like her, anyway, she’s probably just mad she can’t get laid by you, so she’s trying to ruin your life with dumb shit.” Tristan offered me a pat on the shoulder before he continued. “Besides, man, I know you’re not gay. Everybody here knows you’d never do any of that gay shit. So, don’t freak out about it, all right?”
After that, Tristan brought his hands back to his sides as he asked, “We cool?”
“Yeah, we’re cool,” I said with a nod.
“Cool.” Tristan smiled at me again, soon running off toward the field.
And as I watched him go, my blood went ice cold in my veins.
I know you’re not gay.
Everybody here knows you’d never do any of that gay shit.
Even though Tristan hadn’t said the phrases with disdain, there was a certain level of contempt hanging in the air between his words. I wondered how Tristan would’ve treated me, if he knew the truth, if he knew that I’d woken up in Patrick’s bed this morning.
And then, I wondered how the rest of the team would’ve treated me, whether or not Coach Lou would fight for me to have a place on the team once everyone else decided that I no longer belonged on the Green Knights.
I wondered if Coach Lou would’ve been quick to revoke my open-door pass to his home, refusing to have me over for dinner after he knew who I really was.
“Look alive, Perry!” Lou shouted at me, in passing, as he headed out to the field.
His words knocked me out of my awful daydream as I brought my focus back to my teammates huddled near the center line.
“You lied to me,” Patrick murmured as soon as I walked into the dance studio.
I’d just gotten to the youth center a few moments ago, only setting down my bag a second before Patrick threw out his accusation. “What are you talking about, Patrick?”
“You told me that you were just playing straight. You told me that the girls in the photos never meant anything to you.”
“Yeah, and I meant every word.” I took a few steps closer to Patrick. “Patrick, what’s going on?”
“Stop playing dumb!” Patrick’s voice broke as he brought a hand to cover his mouth. “You know what you did, Hunter. And I can’t believe you roped me into hurting someone else.”
“Someone else?”
“Dakota Webster.”
“Who?”
“Your girlfriend.” Patrick’s tone was deadpan, his hand reaching for his phone. “And don’t try to deny it. It’s all over Instagram.”
He handed his phone over to me, and I looked down at the screen with a wild disbelief.
Who the hell is Dakota Webster?
I scrolled through her account, taking in all of the photos of her long, wavy hair, playful curls that seemed to reach a little past her shoulders. There were also several photos of Dakota with celebrities, models I’d seen on TV and in VIP sections at the hottest nightclubs, attending