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“It’s okay. I uh…” I look at Troy, who’s biting his lip. “Alright, so I just need you to hear me out. I need to tell you something that I should have told you a long time ago, and I’d like the chance to explain why I didn’t.”
“Okay.” Troy says, softly.
“I’m gay.” Troy jolts, and breathes in hard. Sam’s fingers wrap around his wrist. “I should have told you back when you were drafted, when you were living in my house. And I wanted to, but…historically, me coming out hasn’t ended well, so I kept it a secret. And then the longer I went without telling you, the more it seemed like Icouldn’ttell you; the time to do so had passed.”
Troy, who has no control of his facial expressions, looks like I’ve punched him in the solar plexus. I wait, the silence stretching out awkwardly as he comes to terms with this information. Sam offers me another bracing smile when I meet his eyes over the island. I feel suddenly sick, and wish I hadn’t eaten so much.
“Lawson didn’t know either, did he?” Troy asks, eventually.
“No. Not until today.”
Somehow, this makes him look sadder. “You could have trusted us, you know? You didn’t have to be…aloneall these years.”
“Troy, no.” I lean forward, wishing the island wasn’t between us. “I trust you, of course I trust you.”
I don’t know how to convince him of this when the evidence to the contrary is so apparent. I can’t think of an adequate way to explain that the problem has always been me, not him or anyone else.
“I never planned on coming out toanyone. I won’t pretend that my family was ever perfect, but after my parents found out about me being gay it got worse. A lot worse. I guess I just resigned myself to keeping it a secret after that. Please, Troy. I don’t want you to think you did something wrong, or that I considered you untrustworthy.”
Troy looks down at his arm, then, and I wonder if Sam tightened his grip. Hurt is so apparent on Troy’s features, I’m having a hard time looking at him. Nobody is eating anymore, the bowls sitting forgotten in front of us.
“Thanks for telling us, Corwin.” Sam says to me, and Troy nods.
“There’s more. I’m also seeing someone, from the team.”
“Oh. Is it Saint?” Troy asks, and Sam and I look over at him in shock. Troy blushes. “Uh, sorry, maybe not.”
“No, you’re right. Nigel and I have been together for a bit, now.” I admit, eyeing him quizzically.How the hell did he know that?
“How’d you know?” Sam asks Troy, curiously.
“Well, I like him. Saint, that is. So, we talk a lot, and our stalls are next to each other in the locker room.” Troy shrugs, like this is enough of an explanation. I glance over at Sam who has an amused expression on his face as he stares at his boyfriend. Troy, seeing our faces, blushes a deeper crimson and continues. “He talks about youa lot, Cor. I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with him where he hasn’t been able to bring you up in it.”
“I didn’t know that.” I say, quietly.
“I assumed it was an unrequited love thing.” Troy adds, sheepishly, looking down at the island.
“Troy.” I wait until he looks back up at me. “I wish I had told you, and I’m sorry I waited until now.”
“It’s okay.” He says, quickly. “Don’t be sorry. Everyone comes out when they’re ready.”
I nod, grateful for the words even though his eyes are still wounded. He’s not mad, he’s hurt. It’s worse, somehow. Troy is like my little brother—someone I’ve always strove to protect. I’d rather cut off one of my own fingers than cause him harm; yet here I am, sticking the knife into him. Sam stands, sliding his hand from Troy’s arm and reaching for the bowl in front of him. Immediately, Troy gets up as well.
“You cooked. I’ll clean.” He tells Sam. “Are you finished, Cor? Or I can get you more?”
I couldn’t eat more, even if I wanted to. I slide my bowl across to him. “I’m finished. Thanks, Sam, that was good.”
Troy avoids meeting my eyes, gathering the bowls and turning around to face the sink. I stare helplessly at his back. He needs space, and yet the thought of leaving right now fills me with a sense of dread. I can’t lose him, and right now that’s exactly what it feels like is happening. I stand, palms flat on the marble counter.
“I can help you, Troy.” I offer.
“No, that’s okay. I got it.” He flashes a weak grin at me over one shoulder, dimples staying hidden. I clear my throat. It’s obviously time for me to leave, though I am loath to do so.
“I’d better head home.” I say, watching Troy as he bends over to load the dishwasher.
“I’ll walk you out.” Sam tells me, stepping around the island to stand next to me.
Troy straightens and wipes his hands down his thighs, drying them off. He lifts one arm before he drops it back to his side, uncertainly. I step toward him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder; he meets me halfway, wrapping an arm loose around my waist in a half hug. It’s quick. Troy pulls away before I can get a good grip on him. He knows I’m not a hugger, but today I would have liked to hold on a little tighter. I nearly pull him back in, but the downcast expression on his face makes me hesitate.
