“Get back! All of you!” He hauled on pads and pulled bodies apart until he got to Wes and Colton, who had death grips on each other’s pads like they were linemen battling in ankle-deep mud.
He got one hand on each of them and hurled them to opposite ends of the locker bay. “Knock it off!”
“Coach!” Colton started.
“Shut your mouth!” Coach roared. He whirled on Wes. “You,” he seethed. “You fucked your team, Van de Hoek. You wanted to get fucked this year? Well, congratulations. You fucked everyone here instead!”
“That’s not what—” Wes shouted.
“That’s exactly what you did! You wanted to have it all! You wanted your boyfriend and you wanted to be a star, and you were willing to step on everyone here to do it!”
Wes roared. He flung his helmet as hard as he could, and it sailed clear across the locker room and slammed into the back wall of the showers. Tiles shattered, and when his helmet crashed to the shower floor, the faceplate and the right side were cracked and broken.
Silence filled the locker room, save for the heavy, wet sound of Wes’s near-strangled breathing.
“What the fuck did you think would happen when this came out? In the media, on the morning of our biggest game of the year?” Coach shook his head.
Wes reached under his jersey and unclipped his pads. He hauled them over his shoulder and threw them into his locker. Grabbed his duffel and his cell phone.
No one moved. No one tried to stop him. No one said a word as he stormed out of the locker room. It was as still and silent as a tomb, rank with the stench of failure.
He couldn’t see as he stumbled through the underground tunnels. Tears formed in his eyes. Snot dripped down his face. He let it run. He had to get out of there. He had to get away, as far as he could. He had to get to Justin.
“Wes!”
There, running toward him, was Justin, a security guard trailing after him like Justin had talked his way into the stadium and was being escorted to the locker room.
He slammed into Justin, both of them moving at full speed. Justin’s arms wrapped around him, and his arms wound around Justin, holding him close, as if he could pull Justin inside his soul. He buried his face in Justin’s neck, finally letting out the sobs he’d leashed since his fight with Colton, since he’d jogged around the field, since the team had fallen apart around him, because of him, and there was nothing he could do about it because he’d already made the wrong choice, so many wrong choices, and he had no option but to feel his way through the failure and the shame.
All he could do for the team now was walk away and try to take the pain with him.
“It’s over,” he breathed. “It’s all over.”
“I was listening on the radio. I convinced them to let me in. I thought…”
“Get me out of here. Please.”
Justin took his hand and led him out of the stadium for the last time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
They lay side by side, facing each other, holding hands. Foreheads pressed together so hard Wes would probably have a bruise when he finally pulled away. One of his legs was twined between Justin’s, and Justin’s thigh was hitched over his, his foot tucked behind Wes’s knee. They were as close as they could get, sharing each other’s breath.
“I’m supposed to go to the hospital tonight,” Justin whispered. “I traded my shift with Michelle for the game today.”
Wes’s slow exhale trembled.
“I’ll call out. I’ll tell them I can’t.”
“No, you should go.” He kissed Justin’s salt-crusted lips. Tasted his tears. “One of us should have a decent future. You’re doing great with your clinicals. You’re going to be a great nurse.”
“You still have a future—”
“I’m going to lose my scholarship. I’m going to have to go back home.” And then he’d never leave. He and his dad made ends meet, but they never had extra. Not for something as expensive as tuition. This had been his chance. He’d known it, ever since he was nine years old. Play real well, son, his dad had said. And you can have a bigger life than this.
What would his dad say when he found out? Did he already know? News traveled slower way out in West Texas, but his dad had alerts on his phone for news with Wes’s name. He couldn’t always get somewhere where Wes’s games