Page 67 of Make the Play
“Which wouldn’t have happened if Matty already had the accommodations he needs,” Jason interrupts.
“Your impassioned recommendations for Matthew during this process are understood, Mr. King.” Mrs. Hernandez continues, “the district will see about getting him a referral for accommodations if it's something he and his mother are interested in pursuing.”
Jason’s smile widens, and if Emerson weren’t already a little bit in love with Jason King, he would be now. While Jason could’ve used his meeting time to advocate for himself, he’d apparently spent it trying to get Matty accommodations.
“Do you gentlemen have any questions?”
“Are you going to be at the game tomorrow to watch us win, Mrs. Hernandez?” Jason asks.
“You know I will, Mr. King.” She smiles in that way most people do at Jason, which makes Emerson kind of happy but also uncomfortable, and he’s not sure why. He should be happy everything is okay, happy that their bosses saw the truth.
Beneath the table, Jason presses his knee against Emerson’s, the contact the only thing that makes sense right now. Jason continues speaking, his laughter loud as he makes a joke.
Everything is going to be okay, just like Jason promised, yet the feelings in Emerson’s heart seem to suggest anything else. The fear is still there, along with an ache for something he doesn’t understand when he looks at Jason. He should be happy, but all he is aware of is the staggering weight of the impending adrenaline crash.
Jason turns his smile—gregarious and handsome—on Emerson, and his heart physically aches. It occurs to Emerson what the emotions in his chest might mean, and he has no idea how to put them back in the box where they belong. He’s been doing just fine having feelings for Jason, and then Caldwell came along and fucked things up with his accusations and stress. In the thick of it all, Jason was here, steady and perfect as always, and Emerson’s stupid heart wants more.
He’s straight, Emerson reminds himself, but it does nothing to stop the swell of longing when he looks at that smile.
Jason King is everything Emerson has ever wanted, and he cannot have him.
* * *
Denise
Your suit is ready, come pick it up anytime before I close at seven.
Emerson readsthe text from Denise for the fourth time, trying to gather the spoons to leave his apartment and pick up his suit.
Though the meeting yesterday went better than he could’ve expected, the hours leading up to that meeting and the emotional fallout after were rough. He hadn’t even been able to stomach dinner, heading straight to bed and staying there until his alarm went off this morning.
During their ride to work Jason was unusually quiet, almost as if he sensed Emerson’s unease and honored it by holding back his tendency to talk about anything and everything. That quiet lasted only until they got to the parking lot and were met with half of Jason’s players waiting for him. Things didn’t calm down from there, and between his students' inattentive excitement over the homecoming game and Emerson’s fragile nerves, the day was far too long.
The second the school day ended, Emerson rushed home to shower, put on something more comfortable and become a human turtle for a few hours. He came out of his metaphorical shell long enough to eat a couple of plain eggo waffles and text Jason good luck before Jason had to put his phone away for the game. A game which he’d invited Emerson to but he declined. The idea of being surrounded by so many people and noises after the stress of everything left Emerson mildly nauseated, especially now that he’s got to worry about how everyone perceives his and Jason’s friendship.
Don’t worry,was what Jason told him this morning, but that is easy for people to say, not so easy to actually follow through with if you’re Emerson.
Alone with his own messy thoughts, Emerson pulls up the hood on the sweatshirt then slips his legs inside so that all of his body is hidden. Given that the hoodie belongs to Jason and is therefore several sizes too big, it’s easy to do. Emerson breaths easier once he’s safely ensconced in Jason’s hoodie, breathing in his familiar scent.
Jason let him borrow the hoodie when he was cold last week, and Emerson has pointedly avoided returning it. Today’s the first time he lets himself wear it again, as if some part of him recognized once he had it on, he’ll never want to take it off.
It’s just a hoodie, yet the comfort it provides Emerson’s deregulated nervous system is impossible to ignore. The material is soft, worn thin from wear and the massive size an intoxicating reminder of how much bigger Jason is than him. Huddled inside of it, the faintest hint of juniper clinging to the material, Emerson can admit he wishes Jason were here. He wishes Jason was going to the appointment to pick up the suit with him, wishes he’d been able to handle going to the game to see him. He wishes for a lot of things.
Sighing heavily, Emerson peeks out of his self-made hoodie cave to stare at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen, its flickering red light a haunting reminder of what Emerson is avoiding.
Objectively, he can recognize it’s not a huge deal. He is fully capable of riding the bus across town to get his suit alone. It’s just that last time Jason was with him, and that made everything just a little less angst inducing. Somehow, Jason makes everything a little easier, a little safer. He knows Jason can’t follow him everywhere to complete the tasks he doesn’t want to do because that would be selfish and weird. But after a lifetime of having to feel anxious and deregulated almost constantly, he can’t be blamed for preferring something—or someone— better.
Beyond just the comfort Jason’s steady presence provides, Emerson just plain likes him. More than he’s ever liked anyone. Romantically, platonically, there is no contest; Jason King is his favorite person in the entire world.
Even now when he wants to be alone, he’d rather be with Jason. It’s only been a few hours since Emerson saw him, yet already he misses everything about him.
Growing up, Emerson struggled to connect—to his family, to his peers, to his few short lived crushes. He felt like an alien that someone left on Earth, as if every other person on this round planet orbiting through space got some kind of instructional manual explaining how to be a person, how to have relationships and be liked and survive. Everyone that is, except him. Then Jason came along, and he didn’t try to explain the instruction manual to Emerson to make him be like everyone else, he just rewrote the damn thing as if who Emerson is, is just fine. He didn't know it was possible to find someone that might be easier to be around than being alone, but now that he has, he doesn’t know what to do.
Thinking about Jason makes him think about the dance tomorrow. Jason said they’re going to have fun, and while Emerson trusts Jason not to lie, he also isn’t sure they share the same definition of fun.
Unable to think about the homecoming dance and the task he’s putting off at the same time, Emerson grudgingly acknowledges it’s time to get his suit.
Through sheer force of will, he pushes himself off the couch, not bothering to change out of Jason’s massively oversized hoodie and his most comfortable sweats just to take the bus across town then straight home.
