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“Queermerica,”I say brightly. The concept is for a domestic travel show that spotlights queer tourism within the US. Sure, it probably won’t have as big an audience asExtreme Trekkers, but neither of us really care. This is something we really care about, and if it only ever exists as another YouTube program then so be it. At least this time we’ll be the ones pulling all the strings.
Aidan rolls his eyes. “Right. I’m still not sure how catchy it is, but whatever.”
I just shake my head and take another sip of my tea. “Speaking of the show, that publicist woman Cole put me in touch with—Tina—thinks we need to get out in front of whatever story the network is going to spin about you leavingExtreme Trekkers.She thinks we should come out, tell our story, and announce our plans to launch our own show.”
He gives a wry shake of his head. “Jeez, she doesn’t want much.”
I offer a soft smile. “You knew this was coming sooner or later. Isn’t it why you paid all that money to get out of your contract? And why you came out to your family?”
He nods. “Yeah. It’s just a little weird. After being told to stay quiet for so long, now to be encouraged to speak out…”
I reach across the table and clasp Aidan’s hand. “I know. But we’ll do it together.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “That’s what you said when we went bungee jumping in South Africa, and then you chickened out and left me to do it on my own.”
I roll my eyes. “You arenevergoing to let me forget that, are you?”
3
FINN
Iabsolutely love my job. I’m the coach of the rugby team at a prestigious private high school in Connecticut called Carmichael Academy. It’s predominantly a boarding school, although there are day students as well; and while it prides itself on high academic standards and a full-bodied curriculum, it is first and foremost a rugby school. And by that, I mean that the rugby team is the pride of Carmichael Academy, and has been since the school was founded over a hundred and fifty years ago.
It definitely makes my job a lot easier to have such an enthusiastic support base around us; and, of course, the fact that the team is successful definitely helps to foster that support. I have colleagues from other schools who have to constantly compete with the other big varsity sports for attention, and funding, and even players. I can only imagine the kind of nightmare that might be.
“Hey, coach?”
I glance up from my laptop to see Samuel Kenning-Chan, my team’s fly-half hovering nervously in my office doorway. I’d like to say I don’t have favorites amongst my players—I mean, they’re all great guys and every one of them has value—but KC is really something special. He’s only in his junior year and he’s already racked up a number of games as starting fly-half—including last year’s championship, where we were the runners up. “What’s up?”
“Umm…I kind of failed my last history test.”
I let out a silent curse and sit back in my chair. There are two things I never want to hear from my players: “Coach, I’m injured,” and “Coach, I’m failing.” Because they both amount to the same thing—missing rugby games. There’s a strict policy at Carmichael that all athletes need to maintain a B average to qualify for competition, and while a bad result ononetest might not be the end of the world, especially as it’s currently the off season, it doesn’t take much to throw that average out. I know for a fact KC’s also struggling in French—a subject he’s never going to do better than merely scraping a pass, no matter how much effort he puts in—so if he doesn’t fix this history thing by the end of the semester he’ll be in trouble.
“Why did you fail?” I finally ask. “Was the content too difficult? Do we need to look into a tutor?”
He winces, a guilty expression crossing his face. “I kind of didn’t study for it.”
“KC,” I chide, making my disappointment clear in my tone. “You know how important your grades are. And you’re a leader on this team now. You need to be setting a better example than this.”
“I know. And I’m really sorry. It’s just…I was helping Ivy with this thing. She needed models for her Sewing Club project and it took way longer than I thought and I just ran out of time.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” I say dryly. “And if you keep doing stuff like that, you’ll have plenty of time for polishing your Best Boyfriend award when you’re riding the bench next year.”
“Come on, Coach,” he pleads, “can’t you talk to Cass and see if I can do a make up? I know all the stuff now.”
I let out a snort of laughter. I’m not sure why they all seem to think just because Cass is my friend I have some kind of sway over them.Everyoneknows Cass doesn’t give make up tests. “You’ll have more luck making a pig fly.”
“Coach,” KC says, hitting me with the puppy dog eyes, “if I can’t make this test up I’ll have to get an A on every single assignment for the rest of the year.”
“Then that’s what you’ll have to do,” I say simply. At his pained expression, I let out a soft sigh and gentle my voice, “Look, Sam, you knew what the consequences would be when you went into that test unprepared. So if you want to salvage the situation now you’re going to have to work your ass off. Or, as an alternative plan, you could let your history grade drop to a C and lift your game in one of your other classes?”
KC’s face screws up; no doubt the prospect of attempting to ace any of his other classes is about as appealing as lifting his grade in History. He has a pretty typical schedule for an athlete: there’s the class he’s acing—PE, the class he’s just barely passing—French, and then the rest where he’s managing a B. It’s enough to maintain his overall average and keep him on the team, but it doesn’t leave much wriggle room for situations like this.
The puppy dog eyes finally getting the better of me, I sigh and relent, “Alright, I’ll talk to Cass and see if they can assign some extra credit or something. It won’t take away the failing grade, though, so you’ll still have to work your ass off.”
“So, it’s just…more work?” he asks, looking baffled.
“Yes, Sam. More work. And it’ll be making more work for Cass too so if you don’t want the opportunity—”
