Page 25 of Make the Play
It isn’t fair that the default even now is straight and neurotypical, to the point Emerson didn’t know if he would be safe just being who he was born to be. It makes Jason want to throw something when he thinks about it too hard. He hates that people have to hide or feel unsafe.
For whatever reason, Emerson chose Jason as the one person in his new life to trust with the pieces of himself no one else knows about yet, and it triggers Jason’s protective urges. He has to tamp down the impulse to tell Emerson he will literally fight anyone who hurts him, aware that’s probably too much, too soon, but Jason’s never pretended to be anything but what he is. He protects the people he cares about, and in a very short time it’s becoming clear to Jason that Emerson is now one of those people. He will be damned if he lets anyone or anything make Emerson feel like he has to shrink back into a closet or hide his needs.
Jason takes a steady breath, trying to will his overeager nature into submission. The last time he felt this protective over someone he was seven. He’d taken one look at Theo with his knobby knees and lack of school lunch and known he was going to keep him. Jason has that same feeling now. Emerson might not be a kid but neither is Jason. Maybe making friends isn’t the same as it was on the playground, but Jason wants to keep him all the same. The intensity with which his brain is screaming at him to take care of Emerson is too hard to ignore, so he doesn’t.
“Hey, Emerson.”
“Hmm?”
“Can I drive you to work?”
“You already did,” Emerson points out.
Jason can’t help but smile, charmed by how literal he is.
“That’s true, but I meant again.”
“Like if the bus is late?” Emerson asks, head cocked to the side. He’s studying Jason intently like he’s looking for something. Jason can only hope whatever it is, he finds.
“Not exactly,” Jason says, leaning forward. “I was just thinking that I could pick you up on Monday.”
“Why?”
“Well, I pass your place on the way to school anyway. It makes sense from a logical standpoint,” he says, offering something concrete and easy to understand but unable to hold back from being equally honest. “But also because we’re friends and I think it would be fun.”
“Fun,” Emerson echoes. “You want to pick me up because you like me?”
“Of course,” Jason says, unsure what to make of Emerson’s blank expression. It occurs to him that putting him on the spot might not have been the best option, but his eagerness to help had overruled everything else. Before he can say any of that the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch and causing Emerson’s expression to shutter further.
“I have to get back to class,” he says, carefully packing his trash and containers back into his lunch bag. “Thank you for um, everything.”
“Anytime,” Jason says, grabbing a Post-it note off the corner of his desk, scribbling down his phone number and offering it to Emerson, with what he hopes is a non-threatening smile. Jason knows he’s huge, between his massive stature and bulky body it would be so easy for him to be intimidating. He learned early on a smile and a laugh went a long way to making others more comfortable. It helps that Jason is genuinely in a good mood most of the time, but even when he’s not, he tries to pretend he is for other people's comfort. “Here’s my number. The offer for a ride is always there, no pressure or time limit on the offer. Just let me know.”
Emerson’s delicate fingers brush over his own as he takes the sticky note, curling his hand around it before shoving it into his pocket. “Thank you.”
“You can call me anytime.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Emerson deadpans.
“Oh, uh?—”
“I don’t like talking on the phone,” Emerson explains. There’s a pinch between his eyebrows like admitting as much is stressing him out. “I know it’s stupid but?—”
“Texting then.” Jason offers, softening his smile. “I like texting too. You can text me about the ride if you want, or anything else, too.”
Emerson opens his mouth, but whatever it is he means to say is silenced by the loud ringing of the warning bell causing Emerson’s shoulders to hunch. He’s tall, but the way he shrinks in on himself makes Jason wonder how often he tries to take up less space.
Given that Emerson is more used to his own building than the gym, Jason isn’t confident that he can find his way back to his own classroom. He has his own class that will be coming through those gym doors soon, so he probably shouldn’t leave. Unfortunately, his brain doesn’t much care about logic where Emerson is concerned.
“You want me to walk you back to class?” Jason finds himself asking.
“No,” Emerson says with a shake of his head. Absent-mindedly, he tugs on his hair, making it look like he just walked through a windstorm. It’s endearing really, even if Jason wishes he could bring back the relaxed smile Emerson wore just a few minutes before. “I need to get back, and you have class too, but I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, you—” but before Jason can even think about doing anything spontaneous like inviting Emerson to the football game tonight, he’s gone, leaving behind his half finished can of Coke on the edge of Jason’s desk and a whole lot of unfamiliar emotions.
* * *
“How are you feeling, Jason?”Eddie walks over, clapping Jason on the back. Eddie’s been his assistant coach for two years, and in that time he’s rapidly become one of Jason’s favorite people. He’s dedicated, damn good at wrangling the team and, best of all, he loves football as much as Jason does.
