Page 56 of Everything's Better With You
“That’s a good question,” Leslie said, hoping Joe would fill in the blank.
“Itisa good question. I guess my not-so-good answer isthat I needed you, needed our connection, and I was terrified of what would happen if my lifeline was gone, if you decided you were done listening to my bullshit, tired of a long-distance whatever the fuck we’re doing.” Joe laughed and ran his hand through his wavy hair. “I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, Leslie Payton, and I’m terrified I’ll fuck it up face-to-face.”
The air left Leslie’s lungs. Joe had never been this open with him. He wasn’t telling Leslie anything he hadn’t thought was probably true, but he’d never said it, not this boldly.
“I hate it that you feel that way, but I’m glad to hear you say it. I always worried you didn’t…that it wouldn’t be a big deal if we drifted apart, you know? Like, one day you might change your number, tell me you’d…found someone.”
Joe shook his head vigorously. “No, Les. No. It’s always been you. It was only ever going tobeyou.” His eyes widened. “God, Leslie, say something. I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this standing alone in a damn parking lot while you’re thousands of miles away.”
Leslie looked down at himself. He was still mostly dressed. “I could see if they could fly me home now. I could be there in a couple of hours. I could—”
“No, babe. You need to get some rest. You’ve got a big job when you get back. Your players, man…” He rolled his eyes and whistled, shaking his head. “Out of shape. They need work.”
Leslie threw his head back and laughed. “I’ve only had the whole team for a couple of practices. Don’t worry. They’ll be in tip-top shape for our first game Friday. Question is, will your team be ready to cheer them on to victory?”
“Oh, we’ll be ready. We’ve got tryouts Wednesday. We’ll likely just be in T-shirts for Friday’s game, but we’ll be ready to bring it.”
“And soon we’ll gallivant.”
Joe grinned. “Soon we’ll gallivant. A for-real date. I can’t wait.”
“Me neither. You need to get home before some wayward tractor runs you over or something random like that.”
Joe looked around. “It’s beyond dead out here. I think maybe four cars have passed the whole time we’ve been talking. Fine, I’ll start walking. Stay on the phone with me, though. You know, in case I get lost.”
They both laughed at that. Ayre Valley was tiny. A main street with one stoplight and a population of approximately three thousand five hundred people, not including the students living on campus, which made up another thousand. Joe had to jaywalk across the main road and walk about a half mile through houses before he’d be on campus, and then it was about a quarter mile to his apartment in the dorm. They traded jabs about each other’s teams and Joe filled him in further on practice that afternoon.
“Your players reached out to Terrell, but I really hope they cut him some slack about his choice to focus on dance rather than football. It’s a sensitive subject for him.”
“I get it. I will nip it in the bud if I hear anything. I’m not going to tolerate any homophobic bullshit, you know that.”
“Yeah, and Randy made that clear. Some of the players changed their tune after hearing they would be off the team. I’m so glad. I hoped it wouldn’t be a big thing, you know? That they’d just shut up and work, and they did. But for Terrell, he had some incidents. Kids trying to rough him up, you know…”
“No, I didn’t. I can’t believe his teammates—”
“They never came right out and beat him up, but they got physical. To test him. Some fucking guys just have to push.”
Joe was holding the phone out in front of him and watching where he was going, but Leslie could see the set of his jaw in the streetlight.
“You talk like you know from experience.”
Joe groaned. “Old news. I told you I hated football players when you met me, remember?”
“I do,” Leslie said. “I remember you saying we were all ‘homophobic misogynists playing a homoerotic sport with homo erectus brains and homogenous stupidity.’ Am I leaving anything out?”
Joe snorted. “No. I think that was about right. And yeah, you changed my mind about certain football players, but Les, you have to admit many of your brethren are notorious for bad behavior.”
“I cannot argue with that,” Leslie said, picking up an edge in Joe’s voice.
“You can’t because it’s true. I can tell you, it’s true.”
“Since we’re being open and honest while thousands of miles standbetween us,” Leslie said, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck. “Did someone hurt you, Joe? I’ve always wondered.”
Joe blew out a harsh breath as he came to a stop, looked both ways, and continued to walk, this time a little more forcefully, it seemed.
“Yeah, Leslie, I’ve had to fight off the unwanted advances and tests of my manhood by more than one professional athlete. And before you ask, yes, I was successful in evading them. But how many guys like me aren’t? How many gay men have been bullied and abused by other men who are so frightened someone will think they’re not macho enough, nor as straight as they purport themselves to be? It fucking pisses me off to no end. You know, that’s part of the reason I took this damn job. Marti reminded me of the shit Terrell had been through and was worried about him starting college and having to go through the same shit.”
Leslie cursed and pressed his fingers into his forehead just above the eyebrows. “It’s gotta stop. I’m not going to let anyone get hurt like that, not on my watch.”
