Page 100 of Full Tilt
Jay:
Okay, but also—Cam, you in Jacksonville? There’s a panel next week. A queer athletes talk, part of the sports inclusion series. If you’re still around, you should be on it.
Cosmo:
WHAT. WHY DIDN’T YOU ASK ME, JAY?
Jay:
You’re not the international rugby heartthrob, Cosmo. Chill.
Cosmo:
That’s some sort of discrimination. I’m just not sure what.
I snort—actually snort—and sink onto the bench, the weight of nerves briefly replaced by pure hilarity.
“Everything okay?” Rafi asks, nodding at my phone.
I glance up and nod. “Just Cosmo being… Cosmo.” He’s one of the few people in the group I mention by name—I’m not willing to break anyone’s trust.
“You mean Brent’s brother? The one from the banana team?”
“Banana Ball,” I correct, because apparently I care about the details now. “But no, that’s his other brother—actually brothers… the twins. This is the one who plays college hockey.”
A small chorus of chuckles rises from the other side of the room. One of the backs calls out, “Tell one of the twins we’re still waiting on our signed banana bats.”
“Pretty sure that’s a euphemism,” someone else mutters.
I shake my head and tuck the phone away.Focus, Crawford.
But then again, maybe letting myself feel something before a match—nerves and all—isn’t such a bad thing. Especially when it’s about Brent.
He’s up in the stands somewhere. And even though I didn’t ask, I know exactly where he’ll be sitting—row F, section 208, probably bouncing his leg, trying to act chill for his parents andsister. I can already picture him, one arm slung across the back of the seat, eyes tracking me from the moment I step out onto the field.
And yeah, okay—maybe I like that.
I’ve been in front of bigger crowds than this. Played on bigger stages. But none of that compares to knowing Brent will be watching.
He saw me go watery-eyed over mashed potatoes a few nights ago because his mum said she was proud of me for “making her boy so happy.”
She meant it. I saw it in her eyes. And it fucking floored me.
“All right, lads,” Coach calls, pulling us all into a huddle. “Five minutes.”
I zone in, eyes sharp, body twitching to move. There’s still time before kick-off, but my brain finally quiets the outside noise—Brent’s family, Cosmo’s declarations, Jay’s surprise panel invite—and drops into focus.
Until I get another ping. Brent this time.
Brent: FYI, Cosmo asked permission to claim you as family. I said yes. I figured you’d be flattered. Or terrified. Maybe both.
I grin as I type back:
Me: Terrified. Definitely. Flattered… yeah.
Another ping follows.
Brent: You’ve got this, Captain. We’re proud of you.
