Breaking Free by Isabel Lucero
10
The notificationfrom Trevor isn’t really from him. It’s from Instagram letting me know he followed me. That alone let’s me know he doesn’t hate me, even if he wants to act like he does.
I don’t get on my social media accounts too often, but I manage a post twice a month or so. At first I think he searched me out to follow me, but after opening the app, I find I have over twenty notifications, and considering my last post was over a month ago, it’s surprising.
Trevor wasn’t the only one who followed me. Jayden, Bryant, and Olivia followed me, as well as several other football guys. As soon as I look over the other notifications, and look at the things I was tagged in, I realize why this is happening. Several people were documenting last night’s activities and I’m in a handful of photos and videos—most of which I don’t remember even happening.
In a few of Jayden and Olivia’s stories, I’m documented in the booth drinking and laughing. In one video that Liv took, it’s me and Jayden on that damn bull, and it has me cracking up to watch. Jayden’s behind me, holding onto my waist as we laugh before we tumble to the mat below.
Jay posted a couple group shots of all of us holding our shot glasses and making faces. One is of me and him, looking beyond wasted as I stick my tongue out, holding up my pointer and pinky finger while he makes a goofy face. I scroll through everyone’s photos from last night and come across one that captured the moment I briefly thought about kissing Jay. We’re in the background, partially covered by Shea who’s the main focus of the picture, but we’re close and looking at each other with curious and lust-filled eyes.
I would bet one million dollars that Trevor’s looked through these and is seething.
I follow everyone back and like and comment on a few photos before I finally climb out of bed, shower, and brush my teeth.
Once I’m dressed, I search the house for my mom, and when I don’t find her, I walk out to the porch and see her talking to Ms. Anne, so I make my way back in the house and search for some food. We don’t have much in here, so I’ll have to go to the grocery store.
Grabbing the keys, I jog down the three concrete steps and approach my mom.
“Hey.”
“Hey, baby,” Mom greets as Anne smiles at me.
“I’m gonna go buy some food. I won’t be gone long. Do you want anything specific?”
“I don’t think so,” she answers. “Oh, whatever these are,” she adds, picking up a cookie from the plate that sits between them.
“They’re just pecan sandies,” Anne says.
“They’re addicting,” Mom says with a small laugh.
Glad she’s eating, even if it is cookies. I plan to buy three packs of them. “Okay. I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Be careful,” she says to my back as I head for the car.
Before I go to the grocery store, I decide to stop at this burger place where you walk up to the window and order. There’s no drive-thru, but they’re worth getting out for, so I park my car, round the building, and wait in the line.
I pull my phone from my pocket and head back to Instagram to read more comments. Jay already responded to one of mine, asking when we’re doing it again. Shea has bet me that the next time we go, he’ll outride me on the bull.
I move up a space in line before I notice Trevor. He’s sitting at one of the tables with two other guys, and as far as I can tell, he hasn’t noticed me yet.
He looks good in his plain white tee and sunglasses pushed up on top of his blond hair. One of the guys says something that makes him laugh. It’s a hearty laugh that showcases his teeth and has his head dropping back. As I watch him, I find myself smiling. His laugh and smile are contagious and I hate that I like them so much already.
I have ten minutes to figure out what I want to do. That’s how long I’m in line and then waiting for my order to be ready. I debate on whether I want to just take my food to my car to avoid seeing Trevor, or if I should approach him and say hi. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but I guess I can tone down my flirting and teasing and just say hi like any other person would. I have no intention of outing him to his friends, it’s just hard not to check him out.
The lady at the window hands me my food on a tray which settles my debate. It’s not in a to-go bag, so I take the tray and walk over to a table and sit down. Yes, it just so happened to be the table next to him.
When I sit, all three sets of eyes turn to see who’s next to them, but it’s only Trevor’s whose stay trained on me.
I smile. “Hey, Campbell.”
His eyes flicker to his friends’ and then back to me. “Hey.”
The guys he’s with do a double-take now that he’s spoken to me. The one closest to me has dark hair and a sculpted face, while the one to his left has lighter hair and a softer face, but both are pretty attractive.
“Campbell,” the dark-haired one says with humor, studying his friend. “I take it you’re football buddies. Only athletes do that shit.”
Trevor rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he’s new.” Shifting in his seat, he focuses on dipping a fry in ketchup.
His friend inspects me again. “Trevor’s obviously shit at introducing people, so I’ll introduce myself. I’m Renzo, and this is my boyfriend Ronan.” He rubs the other guy’s back. “You are?”
“Dominic, but I usually go by Dom.”
He nods, but looks back at Trevor, who’s now avoiding even his gaze. Something weird is going on, but I have no idea what it could be.
“You’re new?” Renzo asks, his brows furrowed.
“Yeah.”
“Did you come from Grand Valley?” he asks.
Two things happen simultaneously. Trevor’s head snaps up and Renzo’s boyfriend gasps.
My eyes bounce between all of them, trying to read the situation. “Uh, yeah.”
There’s a few beats of silence and some sort of weird silent conversation happening between them before Ronan stands up, gathering trash.
“Babe, we gotta go. We have to meet Vi and Dex.”
Renzo looks at me once more before turning his focus on Trevor, who’s looking at him with an unreadable expression. Renzo chuckles and shakes his head, standing up.
“Well, this was fun,” he says. “Nice meeting you, Dom.”
I grin and nod, and once they’re both gone, I watch Trevor visibly relax. His shoulders drop as he exhales.
“Do they know about what we did?” I ask, trying to piece things together. “They know you’re gay?”
He sighs. “Yeah, they’re the only ones who know.”
I get up and move to sit at his table.