Page 31 of No More Jocks

Caleb’s face softened. “Marcus, I understand the pressure you’re under. But it’s hard for me to be in a relationship that’s always hidden. It feels like I’m good enough to kiss and be with in private, but not in public.”

“Caleb, it’s not like that. My entire future depends on this. I can’t be openly bisexual before I sign to the NFL. All I’m asking is that you wait for me. Let me secure the bag for my family, and then I’d be happy to be an openly bisexual athlete.”

Caleb sighed, his eyes filled with conflict. “It takes a lot of courage for me to be myself. I don’t have the luxury of being bisexual. God made me gay, and the man I want to be with doesn’t want me to hide that.”

“I’m not asking you to hide; I’m just asking you to wait.”

Caleb looked down, tears welling up in his eyes. “Marcus, I can’t keep living like this. It’s tearing me apart. I need to be with someone who can be with me fully, without fear or shame.”

“Caleb, are you breaking up with me?” I asked, my voice trembling. The thought of losing him was unbearable.

He nodded, tears streaming down his face. “Goodbye, Marcus,” he said, leaving me alone in the dark, empty classroom.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stood there, frozen, as the weight of his words sank in. The room seemed to close in on me, the air growing thick with the scent of chalk and old textbooks. I felt a profound sense of loss, a void that I knew would be impossible to fill.

I leaned against the door, my heart pounding in my chest. The thought of never seeing Caleb again, of never feeling his touch or hearing his laughter, was more than I could bear. I had messed up, and now I was paying the price.

As I stood there, lost in my thoughts, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. I knew I had to pull myself together, to face the rest of the day with some semblance of composure. But the pain in my heart was raw and real, and I knew it would be a long time before it healed.

I took a deep breath and unlocked the door, stepping out into the bustling hallway. The noise and chaos of the school day seemed to swallow me whole, but I pushed forward, one step at a time. I had to keep going, to keep fighting for my dreams, even if it meant doing so without the man I loved by my side.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went through the motions, attending my classes and trying to focus on my work, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb, about the pain in his eyes and the tears on his cheeks. I had hurt him, and that knowledge was a burden I would carry with me for the rest of my life.

As the final bell rang and the school day came to an end, I found myself standing outside, the chill of the afternoon air biting into my skin. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, feeling the weight of my decisions settling on my shoulders like a heavy cloak.

I knew I had to make things right, to find a way to win Caleb back and prove to him that I was worthy of his love. I don’t know what happened. I had planned to come out but when I thought about how everyone would react, I clammed up. This wouldn’t be easy, it would take time and effort and a willingness to face my fears and insecurities head-on.

As I walked home, the setting sun casting long shadows across the pavement, I made a promise to myself. I would not give up on Caleb, on us. I would fight for him, for our future, with every ounce of strength and determination I possessed. And I would not rest until I had won him back, until we were together again, forever.

21

CALEB

Isat in my classes and attempted to pay attention to what my teachers said, but everything went in one ear and out the other. The rest of the day was a complete blur. The only thing I could think about was how I had just broken up with the only guy who treated me with genuine love and respect. A guy I loved and had given my body to. A guy who made me feel safe and cherished.

The classroom walls seemed to close in on me, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like a swarm of angry bees. The chatter of my classmates was nothing more than white noise, drowned out by the relentless thoughts swirling in my mind. I stared at the blackboard, but the equations and diagrams might as well have been hieroglyphics for all the sense they made to me.

Was I being unreasonable in breaking up with him? Was I asking too much from a high school relationship? Did I expect to find the love of my life in high school? What was wrong with me?

The bell rang, signaling the end of the period, and I gathered my things and walked through the crowded halls. The faces of my peers were a blur, their laughter and conversations distant echoes. I felt disconnected, adrift in a sea of uncertainty and pain.

There were only two men in the world that I’d had sex with: Bradley and Marcus. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t have more than five sexual partners in my life, and here I was at eighteen with two already. The weight of that realization settled on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. I didn’t even know I was crying until I tasted the salty water on my lips.

I ducked into the nearest bathroom, finding refuge in an empty stall. The cool tiles against my back were a stark contrast to the heat of my tears. I let them flow freely, the sobs wracking my body as I tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

Oh my God! I really loved Marcus. My relationship with him was deeper than anything I’d ever experienced, even with Bradley. With Bradley, it had always been about lust, but with

Marcus, it was real. Marcus treated me like a prince from the moment we met. He made me feel special, valued, and understood in a way Bradley never had. Our connection was genuine, built on more than just physical attraction. Marcus was kind, thoughtful, and made me cookies on our first tutor date. He wasn’t perfect, but he cared deeply about me.

The memory of our first tutoring session played in my mind like a movie reel. The way he had nervously handed me the plate of cookies, his eyes filled with hope and uncertainty. The warmth of his smile, the sound of his laughter—it all came rushing back, amplifying the ache in my heart.

I pulled into my driveway and sat in my car for fifteen minutes, trying to compose myself. My eyes were red and puffy from crying, and I knew I looked a mess. I called my telephone provider and reactivated my old number. I wasn’t ready to let Marcus go just yet, but I didn’t dare say I’d made a mistake and acted while in an emotional state.

Once my eyes were no longer red and wet with tears, I walked into my house and placed my keys on the hook in the kitchen. I almost shat on myself when I saw Bradley sitting in the living room, drinking sparkling water and eating an apple.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” I demanded, my voice shaking with anger and disbelief.

“Language, young man,” my father replied sternly.

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