September
“August, can you fill us in on how this new HIV awareness campaign you’re setting up with Cougars GM Chet Rader is going to work?”
One of about ten invited LGBT-friendly reporters from the Cayuga area media shouted the question in my face. She had to shout. The music bouncing off the walls of Vespers was so incredibly loud, shouting was the only way to communicate. I smiled down at the petite brunette as a purple strobe light rolled over us. Even up here on the second floor, the wild and rotating lights touched every sweaty and deep-pocketed person packed into the club. Sal and I were eternally indebted to the club owners for donating us the use of the place for the night.
“What we’re planning to do is set up speakers with medical backgrounds to visit every school campus in the greater Cayuga area,” I yelled in reply, bending down to speak as close to the mic as I could.
The cameraman gave me a thumbs up. Did that mean he could hear me, or just to keep talking? I didn’t know, so I just kept talking and hoping that this segment on the six o’clock news tomorrow wouldn’t terrify the people out there who still lived in fear of anyone with HIV.
“We’re starting with elementary schools, because this knowledge needs to be passed along at a young age. Each visit will be age-appropriate in terms of content. We’re hoping that if we can secure enough private donations, we can branch out to college campuses as well. We have several LGBT centers signed up.”
“And you’re personally involved in this endeavor because your boyfriend is HIV positive, correct?”
She stumbled into me. I righted her. The lesbian couple that had knocked the reporter aside apologized profusely as they danced past, arms in the air, hips shaking, heads bobbing.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
I looked around the upper tier, searching for Sal. When our eyes met, he smiled, held up a bottle of water with a lime slice, then returned to talking to a mob of media folks with cell phones. He didn’t drink much at all since that pancreatitis attack a few months before. A few reporters were scribbling down words on paper because the music made speaking difficult.
“We’re both strongly behind educating not just children but adults as well about HIV truths. You’d be amazed how little many people, gay and straight, know about HIV. I was pretty ignorant until I met and fell in love with my boyfriend.”
“Mind if I cut in?” Mario slid in beside me, flashed the reporter a wicked grin, kissed me on the cheek, then pulled me away from the reporter.
“Um, in case you forgot, we’re supposed to be here talking up the awareness campaign,” I shouted beside his ear as he pulled me down the silver steps to the dance floor.
“I am aware,” he yelled over his shoulder, his grip on my wrist tight. “You also need to take some time off from this to focus on the important things in life.”
A green light touched on us then flew up to the ceiling. The crush of bodies tightened around me as we stepped off the stairs.
“I know, training camp starts in a week. I’m totally there this year.” I tapped my temple, then smiled at the mayor and his wife twerking. It was a sight that I prayed I would never see again.
“I’m not talking about hockey.” Mario led me to the center of the crowd, nudging Victor and Dan out of the way with his elbows. Dan patted my back as we passed. Victor mouthed “Fucking warrior” over Dan’s dark head. “I’m talking about the really important thing in your life.”
He spun me around. There at Heather’s side stood Sal, looking as sexy as hell in a white dress shirt, black vest, and nice tight black jeans. I bet Heather had pulled him down from the top tier just as Mario had me. Heather bounced over, pecked my cheek, then placed my hand in Sal’s. She danced her way over to Victor and Dan, her shiny blue dress perfect for a night on the dance floor. Pity Brooks had to miss out, but someone had to stay home with Jack, and since Heather was one of the awareness campaign’s medical consultants, she was needed here. Also, she was super pretty, and the straight older men handed her money just for smiling at them.
The thumping tune by Icona Pop stopped dead. The lights all rotated to shine on Sal and me, hand in hand, among close to five hundred supporters of our new program, the management and players of the Cougars, and so much media it made my head spin.
“I don’t feel the least bit conspicuous,” I said.
Sal laughed. I could feel the heat rising up my neck. Maybe I was a crusader or a fighter now—other people’s words, not mine—but I was still a bashful one at times. Like now. I saw Mike and Yvonne Buttonwood at the bar. Mrs. Buttonwood waved as Mike chatted up someone beside him. I waved back. She had volunteered countless hours helping to set up this fundraiser. Sal and I thought it was her way of making amends for her reaction that night at dinner. Not that she’d had to, but perhaps she’d felt she should. Whatever her reasons, she was a whiz at organizing things.
“Got a slot on your dance card for me?” Sal yelled as a dance remix of Carly Rae Jepsen’s song “Call Me Maybe” began playing.
My eyes widened. I glanced to the right to see Mario cuddling with Lila, Langley bouncing up and down like a pogo stick beside his parents. McGarrity gave me a small nod.
“Every dance is yours.”
Victor “The Venomous Pole” Kalinski returns to star in a new book, Coach’s Challenge - Cayuga Cougars #3
Coming 1/10/18
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