Page 30 of No More Jocks

I waited outside his English class, the bell echoing through the halls as students filed out. But Caleb was nowhere to be seen. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. I knew I had fucked up. I headed to his next class, hoping to catch him there, but my progress was halted when Mrs. Johnson called my name.

“Marcus, how is tutoring going with Caleb? I’m expecting much improvement this quarter. The final is 50 % of your grade.”

“It’s going great; I expect to do well on next week’s final,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Good, Caleb has helped a lot of athletes excel. Be kind to him. I’d hate for you to fail English and not be able to play in the championship game. Our school had been undefeated for the last three years, but we’ve struggled this year. I’ve seen you on the field, and I think you can help us return to glory, but I’d hate for us to lose because you couldn’t pass English.”

I was taken aback. “You’re a football fan?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

“Mr. Jennings, I hope you’re not suggesting that I wouldn’t be interested in football because I’m female.” I realized I had made a sexist comment to the person who held my football career in her hands. I scrambled for a quick rebuttal.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that most of my other teachers weren’t interested in sports. I just assumed that you wouldn’t be.”

Great save, Marcus!

“Don’t assume. Ask so that you know. That is why you’re having trouble in English now. You’re assuming, instead of asking questions and finding out the correct answer.”

“Point taken, Mrs. Johnson. I’ll remember that.”

“And when you see Caleb, tell him just because he has an A+ in my class and is tutoring you doesn’t mean he gets to skip. That’s why I have a strict attendance policy.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the message,” I said, eager to escape the conversation and continue my search for Caleb.

I hurried out the door and into the bustling hallway, glancing at my watch. I was supposed to be in biology class, but finding Caleb and explaining why I left was more important.

I pulled out my phone and dialed his number, hoping he had reconnected it or that I had misdialed. But I got a disconnected number again.

I looked up from my phone, and there he was, walking through the school doors. His infectious smile was replaced by a frown, and his handsome face was marred by melancholy. I’d hurt him. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Caleb,” I yelled, pushing my way through the sea of people to reach him. He looked in my direction, rolled his eyes, and kept walking. Once I was within arm’s reach, I grabbed his hand, but he snatched it away from me. “Please, Caleb, just hear me out.”

He turned toward me and folded his arms against his chest. His eyes were red, like he had been crying. The sight of his pain made me feel like shit.

“Two minutes,” he replied, his voice cold.

I pulled Caleb into an empty classroom and locked the door, taking a deep breath before beginning my story. The room was dimly lit, the smell of chalk and old textbooks lingering in the air. I could feel the weight of my words hanging heavy between us.

“I messed up. I should have never left the hotel room, but I got spooked by a text from an unknown number. It instructed me to meet them at my house and said they had pictures of us together and would leak them to the entire school. At that moment, all I could think about was my football career and how my dream would be over if my secret were discovered.”

Caleb’s eyes widened with concern. “What happened next?”

“When I got to my house, the police were waiting outside with your ex-boyfriend. They took me to jail for assault and battery, but they released me because a few eyewitnesses said I was defending myself. To top it off, my phone battery died. That’s why I couldn’t call you. I called you when I got it charged, but you had changed your number.”

“So, you didn’t leave because you were ashamed of having sex with me?” Caleb stepped closer, his expression softening slightly.

“No, I enjoyed it. It was the best night of my life. I did feel a little guilt, but I got over that fast.”

“Then why was there a muscular, chocolate, and shirtless dude in your room?” Caleb asked, confusion in his voice.

“A dude in my room? You went by my house?”

“Yes, when I couldn’t contact you, I was concerned and stopped by to see if you were okay.”

“Please tell me you didn’t knock on the door.”

“Marcus, quit deflecting and answer the question.”

“The dude was my brother. I’m not like you; I don’t have the luxury of prancing around the world and being myself. I didn’t grow up rich in a gated community with a mom and dad to buy me everything. I’m working hard on the field so my kids don’t have to be poor like me.”

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