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“I playfootball,”was all I could think of to say. There was so much more I could have said, better arguments I could have made. But my brain was squeezing into a tighter and tighter fist and there were barely any coherent thoughts left in there. Fuck if I didn’t know what hard work looked like though. I could barely fucking walk down the hall today. My shins hurt just fuckingstandingthere. And in a few hours I was going to go do it all again, play harder than I had all week.AfterI passed a test I’d killed myself studying for. Fuck if I was irresponsible.Fuckthat.
“Because Iletyou play football,” she said, laughing and rolling her eyes until the whites showed and I could see glitter clumped together in her lashes. “It’s agame.I don’t have to let you play it. I can cancel your… membership. I pay for this shit, I can unpay for it. So unless you want to stop playing you can get your ass home.”
I just stared at her. Plenty to unpack there, but the highlight was killing me. “Do you actually think you pay for this?Ipay for this. I’ve always paid for this. You don’t do anything.”
“Your money is my money. You’remykid. I tell them I don’t want you playing football anymore, that’s it. I have to sign… things. To tell them I’m fine with you getting a concussion. I’ll tell them I’m not fine with it.”
Funny the shit she suddenly could remember when she thought she was pulling a fast one. Guess she wanted to be the one in charge of when I got concussions too.
“Injuries are actually very rare,” Coach T said, jumping in when there suddenly seemed to be a reason for him to be here, but no one paid attention and the sentence just faded away.
“You haven’t signed one of those in years,” I told her, and maybe that was new information or maybe her timelines were just full of holes like the rest of her brain. “You can sign for yourself when you’re eighteen.”
She shook her head like I was outright lying. “I’m your mother. I have rights. I can take you off that team, believe me.”
I didn’t want to believe her, but how could I not? How could any of this actually be happening, but here we were.
“Why would you want to do that?” I asked her, not needing an answer, not really even wanting one, because I got the gist— she was miserable, I needed to be miserable. But I just needed the words out so I could hear them. Maybe so everyone could. “What kind of person would want to do that? You realize that team is my whole future, right? It’s the only way I’m going to college. You just wanna fuck me over for… what, revenge?”
She just laughed, and like always, saying something was the dumbest option, it just gave her more ammunition. “Look how dramatic he is, you see this? You talk like this in front of your teachers? No college wants any part of this drama queen bullshit. Once people find out what you really are, they’re never going to keep you around. I know all about what you did on Saturday. You and your little slut girlfriend making a fool of me.”
I went from numb anger to hot rage in a tenth of a second. “Don’t call him that.”
You know she zoned right in on something that bothered me that much, clawing at that scab hard and sharp. “You know howdisgustedMike was to walk in on you two? I can’tbelieveyou’d act like that in public. I can’tbelieveyou’d embarrass me like that. No one wants to see that kind of shit, Logan.”
“Give me a break. You know what kind of actual disgusting shit I’ve seen going on in that house?”
“Not anything like that you haven’t.”
“I was kissing my boyfriend. That’s it.”
She looked fucking horrified, her eyes wide and cringing and pulling back. “Lower your voice, Jesus,” she hissed at me, and I glanced around.
“What are you worried about? Everyone at school knows I’m gay.”
That wasn’t entirely true.Mostlyeveryone knew, Coach T being an obvious exception, but honestly, that was the last thing I gave a shit about. Not her, though. What other people thought was always more important than me.
“You don’tsaythat shit here. In public. This is apublicschool, Logan, my god.”
The way she said that made me wonder if she even knew what the wordpublicmeant. “No one cares.”
She laughed and Jesus, did she everstopfucking laughing? Everything I said was a fucking joke to her, I was an idiot, and god I hated her so fucking much. She looked up at York and Coach T. “No one cares? You want him to sit here talking about kissing hisboyfriendin broad daylight? And you don’t care? Colleges don’t care? Football teams don’t care?”
I’d probably never seen those two at such a fucking loss. My mom could do that, nail you to a wall and make your brains pour out your ears.
“We have a zero-tolerance policy against bullying,” York finally said. “We support diversity.” I almost laughed out loud. The guy could non-answer with the best of them.
“Now, youhaveto say that,” she said, shaking her head. “Hehasto say that,” she repeated, turning back to me. “That’s not real life and you fucking know it. People care. Everyone cares. When they find out at that college, they won’t want you. Maybe I should let them know since you’re so fucking proud of it. You’reluckyI’m willing to let you come back home. But mothershaveto accept their kids.”
I rubbed my face, just wanting to disappear. This had gone so far into left field, and that was saying a lot when it came to her, she hadn’t followed a straight line the whole time I’d known her.
“Logan, why don’t you drive your mom home.”
I looked up, startled as York pushed himself up from his desk, ready to kick her out and obviously not knowing any better way to do it.
“What?”
“I think the responsible thing to do would be for you to drive her home,” he repeated, obviously not looking for some kind of lawsuit when she drove out of here blasted and ran over a few freshmen on the way. “You can sort things out privately and maybe you can make an appointment to talk to Mrs. Reddick. Seems like a guidance counselor would be more helpful in this situation.”
