Page 62 of Make the Play
That second thought floats into his brain without permission, as it’s been doing a lot the last forty-eight hours. Every time he questions himself, his identity or his feelings or whether he’s interested in men, he thinks about Emerson and his brain says,well, we’re interested in that one.
He has no idea if that means he’s always been into men and somehow too blind to see it, or if it’s just Emerson. All he knows is everything about being with Emerson makes Jason happy, maybe the happiest he’s ever been, which is saying something since he’s a pretty damn happy guy. And maybe, he thinks that’s always been the problem. His past relationships ending always seemed inevitable because how could anyone make him happier than he already was when he had a great family, good friends and the world’s best job? But then Emerson showed up, and suddenly Jason realized even a happy life could be happier.
And Emerson? He makes Jason so god damn happy his heart feels like it might burst out of his chest.
Emerson, whose voice Jason hears right now. With a bemused smile, he looks up and notices exactly where he is. Somehow, he marched himself all the way across campus and to Emerson’s classroom. He’s not even sorry about his subconscious journey. Maybe this isn’t the alone time he planned, but being able to check on Emerson and Matty might give him some purpose. Besides, Emerson had spent lunch today in his room making notes to help Matty this afternoon. While Jason is grateful and impressed, he also missed his standing lunch date with Emerson.
The idea that he’s so out of sorts and spiraling just because he hasn’t seen Emerson in seven hours is something Jason is not willing to think about too deeply. He’s got enough on his mind without having to acknowledge that his feelings for Emerson—for a man—go far beyond a little physical attraction.
With the door propped open, he can hear the familiar hum of Emerson’s voice followed by Matty’s much deeper voice.
“I don’t see how that helps.”
Inching closer to the open doorway, Jason quietly cracks it open to peer inside.
“The amazing thing about literature is the way it can connect us. Whether you’re reading a book entirely rooted in fantasy or something based on real life, the stories evoke emotion. I want to know how this book made you feel, Matty.”
“It pissed me the fuck off, Mr. Miller,” Matty answers. “The entire thing was bullshit.”
“It’s autobiographical,” Emerson offers in a neutral tone.
“That’s what pisses me off,” Matty grumbles. “It’s bullshit that people get treated like this. The government is supposed to help, but how can it do that when all the laws and rules it’s founded on are racist as fuck. Sorry, Mr. Miller. I know I’m not supposed to say fuck in front of teachers, but it pisses me the fuck off.”
“And that anger isn’t misplaced. When there is injustice you should feel—” but Emerson pauses, turning his head to stare at Jason. “Looks like we’ve got some company. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice, Mr. King?”
“Oh no, pretend I’m not here,” Jason tries, holding his hands up.
“You’re too big to be invisible, Coach,” Matty grins. “Did you miss your favorite student? You did, right?”
“You know I can’t have favorites,” Jason tells him, even if the words are most definitely true. Practice today wasn’t the same without him, both because of his skill but also his personality. As captain, he’s the rock of the team, and it’s difficult to imagine next year without him. Matty is going to be one of the kids it’s hard to let go of, even if Jason is excited for the future he’s got ahead of him.
“Whatever you say, Coach,” Matty grins.
Emerson’s lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile and all the jumbled, confusing pieces of Jason’s heart and brain just settle. Emerson is so handsome with his dark green shirt that makes his pale eyes almost sparkle and his hair all tousled. Seeing him now, Jason can admit that yes, an entire day without him is way too long. The implications of that are more than he can cope with right now, but with Emerson in sight, it’s easy to push away the scary unknowns and focus on him.
When Emerson’s lips turn up at the corners to offer Jason a small, private smile, he wants to literally stomp his feet the way he used to when he played football. There’s no goal in sight, but Emerson is worth more than any touchdown.
Deciding to go for broke, Jason strides into the room and sits himself at one of the chairs beside them. Or tries to anyway. The desks are too damn small for someone of Jason’s stature, and though he’s squeezed himself in, he’s not sure he’s going to get back out of the desk without it breaking.
“That doesn’t look too comfortable, Coach.”
“I’m good,” Jason insists, refusing to admit his ass and thighs are squashed while Emerson stares at him. “How’s the book report coming?”
“Shit,” Matty answers at the same time Emerson says “good.”
“Mr. Miller is being nice,” Matty offers.
“Mr. Miller is nice,” Jason agrees, always ready to sing his praises.
“I’m also honest. I don’t like lying, and I wouldn’t do it to make you feel better,” Emerson tells him. “You’ve already got your intro and a few key points marked down into your notes. You just need to add your opinion.”
“My opinion is the government is fucked up,” Matty frowns.
“Which can be rephrased to point out how strongly the foundational injustices that are rooted in our legal systems make you feel, because they set up a system of oppression rather than dismantling it,” Emerson says.
“If I say that, Mr. Caldwell will think I cheated.”
“Maybe use your words, though probably with less fucks,” Emerson suggests, earning him a laugh from Jason and Matty.
