“I’m fine,” I say, after watching her side-eye me for nearly thirty minutes.
“And is AJ?The media are flexing their muscles and you’ve pissed them off.”
“He says he is.Do I believe him?Nope.But I know he will be soon.”I finish my eggs and smoothie, wiping my mouth with the heel of my hand.“Going out for a run.Want to join?”
“Always,” she says, getting up from the table and heading upstairs to get changed.
We meet outside in less than fifteen minutes.I put my headphones on and block out the world.Trish does the same.She matches my pace until I sprint around the park.No one can catch me when I’m sprinting, especially with a ball at my feet.My thoughts are consumed by AJ.I want to do what is right, but I don’t think the world is ready for a gay English League star.Not unless…not unless the media takes our side.I grind to a halt and whip out my phone, pressing call on AJ’s icon.He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey,” I say into the phone.Trish is now standing beside me, catching her breath; she mouths ‘who is it?’to me, and I tell her it’s AJ.She makes kissing faces at me, so I flip her off.
“Hey,” he says back.One word, packed with so much love, it’s enough to knock me off my feet.
“Can you meet me at my house in one hour?”
“Sure, I’ll be there.”
I hang up, vaguely aware I have in some ways inherited my dad’s insistence of timekeeping.
I’m pacing around the living room, both AJ and Trish are watching me like I’m some wild exhibit in the zoo.
“Okay, so what is this about?”AJ finally asks.
“Us,” I say, beaming at him.
“US?”He looks confused, and very cute with his bed head.Despite looking like he hasn’t slept properly since the news broke, he looks fine as hell to me.
“If we want the media to be onside withus,we need to get them to likeus.”
“Us?”he asks again, still confused.
“Yes—us.As in you and me.”
“As in, together,us?”Realization dawns on his face and his smile lights up the whole room.
“Now you’re getting it,” I say, smirking.
“Are you sure?”he asks, taking my hands in his.
I look him in the eyes, and say, “As sure as anything.If it comes down to never playing football again or losing you, I’d pick never playing football again.You were my first dream.You are the one that keeps me grounded.You are the one that I love.If we’re telling truths here, I have always loved you, I just didn’t know.”Tears prick at my eyes, and I plant a kiss on his lips.He pulls me into a hug, and then a pillow is thrown at us.
“Forget I was here?”Trish says, smirking.
“I was hopeful, yes,” I say, winking at her.
“What about your parents?”AJ asks, sitting cross legged on the sofa, his long frame looks both comical and cute like this.
“They can either get on board or not.I’m pretty sure my mum will be fine, and if my dad knows what’s best, he’ll be supportive too.Happy wife, happy life and all that.”
“And the manager?My gaffer?”he asks, now stretching out his legs.He’s clearly uncomfortable on the too-small-for-him-sofa.
“If we play the media right, then they'll come off as homophobic assholes if they even think about dropping their best players.And besides, I don’t think they’d have a problem.Look at our England manager, he was all for it, as long as we didn’t cause any trouble.”
“And how will you get the media on your side?I believe AJ can, but after your outburst the other day, I think you’d have a bit more trouble,” Trish says from her position on the beanbag chair.
“I am a media darling,” I say stubbornly.
“You’re not,” they both reply in unison.
