Page 89 of A Thousand Second Chances

“But…Coach…”

“What about him?”

“He…he told me I was making everyone else uncomfortable. That no one wanted a gay guy changing with them in the locker rooms or ogling them in the showers.”

Devon’s face darkens. “That’s bullshit! If anyone was uncomfortable, it sounds like it was Coach. You should’ve told us. We would’ve had your back. This is the kind of shit that needs to be reported to somebody.”

I nod numbly, still struggling to process this abrupt shift in perspective. Devon and the othershadn’tcared about me being gay? Had everything Coach said just gotten to my head?

Devon rubs the back of his neck. “Look…I had no idea the sort of shit Coach said to you. I thought you’d given up on us, man. That you decided the team didn’t matter to you anymore.” He shrugs, the movement stiff and awkward. “It, uh…I guess it hurt, thinking you’d dropped us like that. You know?”

My throat constricts. “S-sorry,” I choke out, struggling to keep my emotions in check. Even after this heart-to-heart, Devon’s about the last person I want to cry in front of.

“Yeah. Me too.” His eyes dart around the street, and after a beat of silence, he turns and starts walking away. “I’ve gotta go meet up with my girl. But, uh, we should see if we can figure this out once we get back to campus.”

“Sounds good,” I manage. “I guess I’ll, um, see you later.”

With one last wave over his shoulder and a sheepish bob of his head, Devon hurries down the street, leaving me standing there staring after him as I try to process what the fuck just happened.

Holy shit.

I’d been wrong about Devon. About the entire team. And if I’d been so off-base with that, I can’t help but wonder what other things I’d gotten completely wrong as well.

thirty-six

Percy

I’m still thinking aboutmy mom when I give up on RuneWorld Online and wander into the garden through the same door Chris had taken earlier. Some small part of me hopes I’ll find him sitting beneath a maple tree waiting for me…but of course, I don’t. He’s long gone by now, run off to who knows where.

My thoughts begin to darken, but for once, I don’t let myself wallow. No sense wasting the day pining after Chris—not when I’m the one who pushed him away in the first place. Instead, I walk around to the front and find an Adirondack chair with a good view of the lake. The chilly air’s not too bad with the afternoon sun warming my skin. There’s a quiet comfort to being out here. Like so many other places on Mackinac Island, it conjures fond memories from my childhood.

Like that time Owen and I had tried to make our own croquet course by sticking twigs in the ground in lieu of wickets. That game had ended pretty quick when I’d thwacked a ball hardenough to send it careening into the street and spooked a passing horse.

Or all those lazy days I’d spent reading side-by-side with my mom. As much as I love my dad, that’s something we’ve never really had. The silences between us always feel strained, begging to be filled with talking or laughter. Though perhaps these days, that’s in part due to how desperate we are to ignore the missing presence that’s no longer with us.

The sun is fading into late afternoon when I rise and stretch. Deciding to go for a walk, I turn right, away from downtown. I take my time, watching the water, but my feet know better than me where I want to go, and soon enough, I’ve retraced the same path Chris and I followed to reach Sunset Rock. I hesitate when I hear voices coming from the outcropping ahead. Someone else must’ve beaten me to it.

I’m about to turn back when I catch a sweet chuckle carried on the breeze, followed by a half-whispered murmur that sounds intimate. Sunset Rock’s known for wedding pictures. My parents had visited it themselves back in the day. Is there some other happy couple there now, enjoying the view?

Curious despite myself, I creep up the worn stone steps so I can see onto the outcropping. Two guys stand chatting in the middle of the ledge. At first, I think I must’ve been mistaken in my assumption, but then one of the guys leans in closer to the other—too close to be only friendly—and runs a hand up his back. The other guy leans into the touch, closing his eyes as he rests his head on the first guy’s shoulder. The first guy smiles and presses a kiss to the other guy’s forehead.

They’re both wearing suits, I realize. Maybe this is part of a wedding after all—just not the sort I’d envisioned. A deep blush rises in my cheeks at their open display of intimacy. I should probably go back the way I’d come and leave them in peace. This seems like too personal a moment for a stranger to interrupt.And yet, I find myself unable to look away, marveling at the sure way they demonstrate their affection without worrying what anyone else who sees might think.

Why can’tIbe like that?

Tight bands of frustration constrict my chest. It’s not fair! Watching them, I can’t help but picture me and Chris in their place, Chris with his arms wrapped around me while I lean back and kiss him without a concern in the world. Suddenly, I want that more than anything. The freedom to let go. To be myself.

So, why can’t you?

All my usual excuses bubble up on demand. The uncertainty over how others might react. The thought of losing my dad or of other people I love turning their backs on me. The crippling sorrow that my mom wouldn’t recognize who her son had become in her absence.

But for the first time, I can start to see them for what they really are: excuses. Rationalizations. It’s not that there aren’t valid fears in there, real reasons why someone might not want to risk coming out. But they’re also a way for me to shield myself from the rest of the world. To hold myself back under the guise of keeping myself safe when all I’m doing is trapping myself—rendering myself immune to the woes of the outside world while irrevocably setting me apart from it.

I must make a sound—stone shifting underfoot or an annoyed huff I don’t entirely suppress—because the two guys spin to look at me, their eyes widening in surprise.

“S-sorry,” I stammer, stepping back. “I-I didn’t mean to interrupt. You two enjoy the view.”

They glance at each other, unspoken communication seeming to pass between them, and then one of them looks back at me and smiles. “You’re welcome to join us if you want. It’s not like we have a monopoly on this spot.”