Page 11 of Pitch Prince

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Camp washard. Really fucking hard. And it was exhilarating. To wake every morning, head to the gym with some of my heroes, and then to have hours of training and drills outdoors no matter the weather. I felt ready for anything.

There was no guarantee I’d be in the starting line up, or even get a minute of play-time. But it was still my dream to be here. Wesley was a hard-nosed bastard who didn’t suffer fools gladly and pushed every single member of the team hard, even those who’d been established parts of the team for years. Even Finn was on his best behaviour, and we were both tucked up in the two twin beds in our room by about ten o’clock every single night.

My muscles were aching, tendons sore and bones weary. But I felt like I was home. In the one place I most wanted to be.

Our first game of the tournament was against Scotland. I was ready. I was ready to pull on the bright red Welsh shirt and do my country proud.

Rhys: We’re going to whoop your arses tomorrow.

6

Chapter Six - Callum

I looked down at my phone and laughed to myself.

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

I shook my head. “Just some trash talk from one of the Welsh players.”

I replied to Rhys’ text quickly.

Callum: I’d like to see you try.

Shit, did that seem suggestive somehow? Had I just sent something completely inappropriate. Did he think I wanted to-

“Callum,” said Sarah. “I just asked you who.”

“Oh,” I replied, eventually dragging myself out of the whole I’d been spiralling into. “Rhys Prince.”

“The gay one?” Sarah said. “What a surprise. How long have you had his number then?”

I felt a sliver of guilt twisting up in my gut. “Since the Cardiff match last month.”

“And you’re just friends, are you?” asked Sarah. Her voice was low and calm but I could see the hurt in her eyes.

“Yes, we’re just friends,” I said.

“Have you told him?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Sarah…” I implored, but her eyes met mine and didn’t budge. “No. I don’t know. It’s…hard. I don’t know what’s safe to say. I don’t know what to do.”

“You think you don’t know what to do? I’ve been married…” she looked around the kitchen for a moment, but the kids were still asleep upstairs. It was an early Friday morning. I’d been given the Thursday off from Scotland’s training camp before our flight up to Cardiff in a couple of hours. “…married to a man who kept part of himself so hidden from me for years. Don’t think that now you’ve told me I won’t worry that you’re hiding other things from me.”

“I just need a friend,” I begged. Sarah’s eyes softened before she turned to the dishwasher and started loading it with the takeaway plates from the night before. “I just need…since I came out to you, I thought it would be a weight off my shoulders. I thought I’d feel so much better once the secret was out, but now - now we’re in separate beds. We live separate lives. You’ve been my best friend for so long, but of course I don’t want to-I can’t talk about all this with you.”

“So what do you want to do?” Sarah asked. “Who do you want to tell? You’ve said my parents are off-bounds but now you want some random young kid from Cardiff to know?”

“Tell your bloody parents then!” I realised I’d shouted a little loud and took a seat. “Sorry. I just think we need to talk honestly about our steps forward. About what we do next, as parents to our kids.”

“Are you ready to come out to the papers? To the world?” she asked.

“No,” I confessed.

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