April (8 months since meeting Jeremy)
Holy mother of god.
I’m not sure how I made it back to my own hotel room, but I must have because next thing I know I’m staring at the mess of clothes and toiletries spread across my bed, waiting to be packed.
The kiss was mind-blowing, but that’s not what’s doing my head in right now. All I can focus on are Jeremy’s words just before he kissed me.
I knew he was in the closet. Hell, he’s practically in Narnia, he’s in there so deep. But I never thought . . .
My computer is on, and I dive for it, shaking the mouse to wake the screen up. I check Skype, and yes, Aaron is there. It’s agonizing to wait for the call to connect, and I’m talking the second Aaron’s face appears.
“He’s a virgin.”
Thank goodness Aaron has known me since we were kids, because he simply blinks and rolls with it. “Okay. Hi, Brandon. How’s Dubai? I’d ask how you’re doing, but I’m pretty sure the answer is somewhere between ‘freaked out’ and ‘terrified.’”
“Aaron, he’s never even kissed a guy.” Until now. Until today, his lips parting beneath mine so naturally, like he was made for me to kiss. I could have kept kissing him for hours, except I could feel the minute trembling beneath my fingers and knew I couldn’t keep pushing him.
“We’re talking about your diver boyfriend?” Aaron settles in front of the camera, and I can see that he’s dressed for work. It’s late here, but it’s the right hour back in Texas for Aaron to be getting ready to start a lunch shift at the restaurant he works at.
“Yeah. Shit.”
“Didn’t you say he was a skeleton?”
“I did. But . . . He was so scared. Not of me—at least, I don’t think so. But of the idea of kissing another man. It terrified him. But he let me kiss him.” I’m rambling, but I can’t stop talking. “I’ve never been someone’s first kiss, man. I have no idea what I’m doing here. He was so brave, but he was shaking so hard.”
Aaron’s smile is gentle. “How was it?”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “It was so good. I want to kiss him again. I want to watch him give in to his own desire. I want to be the person he steps out of the closet for.”
“You know it doesn’t work like that.”
Aaron’s words are the dose of reality that finally allow me to catch my breath. I sink into the desk chair, running my hands through my hair and tugging.
“Dude, Bran, what is it about this guy that has you so messed up? This isn’t like you.”
I laugh, looking down at the keyboard of my ancient laptop. The letters have all worn off over the years, a physical reminder that I can’t afford new laptops anymore. “You know what I’m like when someone tells me I can’t do something?”
A laugh. “Yeah. You immediately go do it. You’re terrible at taking no for an answer.”
The only thing my parents ever taught me, for better or for worse. Dad was a lawyer—still is, I assume—and always told me that no was merely someone’s way of trying to control you. “Yeah, so, Jeremy basically said that you can’t be gay and be a professional diver.”
Aaron hisses under his breath. “So of course you have to prove him wrong.”
“And I am. I mean, hell, I don’t think he actually believes it? But he’s heard it so much in his life that he’s afraid to accept anything else.” I glance up long enough to see Aaron watching me with a small frown. “He challenges me to do better. Constantly. Like he wants me to prove him wrong.”
The sound Aaron makes is both fond and frustrated, which basically defines our entire friendship over the years. “Be careful, Bran. Guys like Jeremy don’t just come out of the closet because of one really fantastic kiss.” He exhales slowly. “Don’t let yourself be hurt again by someone who can’t accept you for who you are.”
The flight from Dubai is direct to New York, which means fourteen hours on a plane. I have my iPod charged, the book I need to write a paper on for class, and I stocked up on snacks at the airport.
But when we board, I find that I’m sitting in a row of three seats. Valerie slides into the window, and Jeremy next to her in the middle. My ticket shows that I’m supposed to be on the aisle, but I hesitate.
“Brandon, stop blocking the people behind you and sit already.”
Val’s words are an order, so I do as I’m told, juggling my carry-on and the little pillow that was on my seat, trying desperately not to look at Jeremy.
Jeremy, who I will be sitting four inches away from for the next fourteen hours.
Jeremy, who let me kiss him last night in his hotel room, and whose cheeks are flushed just the tiniest bit when I finally give in and glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
For the first hour of the flight, Val takes up all of Jeremy’s attention. They sit with their heads tilted together, eyes serious, and whisper. I catch a bit of the conversation before I put my headphones in—enough to know that Jeremy is worried and Val is pissed, and it has something to do with her parents. But I close my eyes and turn my music up to give them as much privacy as possible, until Jeremy taps me on the shoulder, shortly after the flight attendant comes through offering drinks.
“Hey, how’d you get into diving?” he asks once I pause the song that I’m listening to and pop an earbud out.
It’s so unexpected that I don’t understand the question at first. “What?”
I get an eye roll and an exasperated sigh. “Val wants to know how you actually got into diving.”
“Oh.” I lean forward to find Val studying me intently. “Why do you want to know?”
Val answers this time. “My mother,” she bites the word out, “asked me what your background was. Because clearly whatever you did before diving is giving you a huge advantage. Since I’m doing such a terrible job, she wants to know what I should do to be better.”
Oooh. I had a feeling the two of them were talking about the phone call Val had received from her mother before her competition. She’s been off since London, where she dived so spectacularly badly that Jeremy almost gave himself an aneurism. But she seemed better in Dubai, like she’d gotten the revenge she wanted and was content to behave once more.
“I did gymnastics and dance growing up. Mostly ballet, but some modern dance. But right after I turned eighteen I—” My mouth slams closed, and I bite my cheek hard. Val might be almost a friend these days, and Jeremy is . . . well, whatever Jeremy is, but I’m not ready to go there with them just yet. “I ended up having to give all of that up, so I was looking for a new sport to try. Then I met this guy named Dan at a party just after graduation.”
Val’s eyes light up. The story is obviously distracting her from her frustration. A quick check tells me that Jeremy is paying as much attention as she is. We’ve been training together for almost nine full months, and this is the first time either of them have shown any interest in where I come from.
“Anyways, he mentioned that he likes to throw himself off cliffs and into the nearest body of water. I’m a bit of an adrenaline junky, so I was interested to hear more, but mostly I really wanted to get laid.” Dan had been a few years older, which meant he was about ten times more interesting than any of the guys my own age.
Jeremy goes bright red and doesn’t move, but I’m watching him as I say the words and see the way his eyes widen. Val snorts. “So you started diving because some guy was hot?”
I shrug. “I started cliff-diving, yeah. I mean, it’s nothing like the diving we do now. These are twenty-meter platforms, sometimes even higher, and you throw yourself into the water feet first. But Dan taught me how to do it, so it was never dangerous or anything.”
“Oh. Now I get it.” Jeremy’s words are soft, like he’s talking to himself, but when I glance at him, he meets my gaze. His eyes are wide, like he’s stumbled on something incredible . . . like I’ve said something profound.
“You do?” I get the feeling that he isn’t just talking about my diving.
Clearly Jeremy isn’t ready to share his thoughts, because he just nods, still watching me, and settles back in his chair.
But Val isn’t done. She has more questions, so I explain about how I was recruited to dive for the U of T, and how eventually I was offered a one-year scholarship to come up to Ohio and train with Andrey.
When I’m done, Val seems pleased.
“You gonna tell your mom all of this?” I ask.
“I’m going to tell her that you used to jump off sixty-foot cliffs for fun, and see if that’s the type of training she’d like me to start on.”
From what I’ve seen of Val’s mom, the suggestion won’t go over very well. But Val seems excited to piss her mom off, and I can’t say I blame her. If her purposeful loss in London didn’t do it, talking about wanting to try cliff-diving might be what succeeds.
Val curls up against the window soon after that, seemingly exhausted, and she’s asleep almost immediately. Jeremy has his eyes closed, but he’s shifting every now and then, so I know he’s awake.
“Hey.” I nudge him, and hold out my earbud when he opens his eyes.
He takes it, and I cue up a slow, acoustic playlist.
“You can sleep on my shoulder if you want.”
I don’t expect him to take me up on the offer, but the music seems to be helping him unwind. His face is smoothing out, and his body is visibly relaxing as his eyes grow heavy. After a minute, he lifts the armrest and twists his body until he’s pressed against my side, head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around his waist to give him more room, and his breathing evens out within seconds.
It takes me longer to join them in sleep. Jeremy’s words linger. “Now I get it,” spoken like he had some kind of revelation about me. Like a piece finally clicked into place, and the puzzle was finally whole. It’s not the cliff-diving that surprised him, it’s . . . something else.
Whatever is going on in Jeremy’s head, it’s a mystery to me. But I hope that whatever realization he’s come to is a good one.
We get four glorious days off when we get back to Ohio. Andrey gives us all a pat on the back when he drops us off, and Jeremy lights up at the small sign of approval.
When Jeremy holds his hand out to me, I take it and use it to pull him into a hug instead.
“You did really well,” he says softly into my ear.
I want to tell him that his words mean more to me than any prize or medal ever would, but he takes a step back before I can, and then another, putting space between us. That’s when I realize that Aaron’s words are spot-on: being teammates—or maybe more—isn’t going to be all sunshine and holding hands in the park, because we’re back in the States and everything is going to return to normal. Like the World Series was a little bubble away from reality, but now Jeremy’s home again.
On the second day of vacation, I make a bet with myself that Jeremy has ignored Andrey’s vacation orders, and tug on my shoes to walk over to the pool. It’s a gorgeous spring afternoon, the kind of day that hints at a perfect summer to come, and I’m in a great mood by the time I enter the natatorium.
My mood turns sour when I find Jeremy, though. There’s no winning in my bet, because Jeremy looks determined . . . almost angry. He’s working hard in the weight room, eyes narrowed and head bowed. He’s obviously been at it for a while, but his tight lips and clenched jaw aren’t from weariness. His muscles are trembling, sweat dripping down his face.
I duck just outside the door, watching from the shadows. But I imagine he wouldn’t notice me even if I were standing in the middle of the room. His pace is exhausting, almost painful to watch.
He looks like he’s punishing himself.