Breaking Free by Isabel Lucero

28

“There’snothing I can say that I haven’t already. I told you the truth. Yes, my parents know Coach Bennett. They go back several years, but they weren’t all buddy-buddy. I hardly knew him at all. I was a kid and I didn’t give a fuck who my parents were friends with.” I sigh, scratching my jaw. “My dad was an abusive asshole, okay? Coach eventually found out and when he tried to interfere, Dad severed the friendship and Mom wasn’t allowed to speak to him again. That’s all I know about that, and I only found that out recently.”

His face softens and I don’t want him to pity me, so I quickly continue. “Don’t feel bad for me, Campbell. He’s dead and gone now. I’m just sad it didn’t come faster. Look, when he died and I started looking into transferring, my coach at GV contacted Bennett and he recognized the name. Because he was fairly aware of our situation, he made sure to help on his end, wanting the transition to move faster and smoother, considering my mom needed me. I would’ve been able to transfer anyway. He just came down to watch me and that was my try out for the team. Sure, it was special circumstances, but I’m good, and you can’t deny that. He knows that, too. I got on the team but you can’t say I don’t deserve to be on it.”

He nods. “Okay.”

“And there was no, my son needs to be a starter bullshit. My mom doesn’t care about football like that. I hardly do. I got into football at GV because I needed it. I was an angry teenager. I was destructive and lashing out and held onto a lot of anger and hurt from my childhood. I needed the discipline that comes with college football. I can’t go out and fuck around on the weekends because of games. I don’t have free time after school to get in trouble, because I have practice. I don’t drink very often, and I workout and take my frustration out on the weights.” I shrug. “I have to keep my grades up because of my scholarship, so…”

“You’re on a football scholarship?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Academic.”

His brows shoot up. “Oh, so you’re smart.”

“Brilliant,” I say with a smile.

He snorts. “Anyway.”

“You believe me now, or what? I don’t care about that starting spot.”

He looks down at the comforter, playing with a loose string. “I’m sorry I was an ass.”

“Well, you’re lucky I like your ass and am willing to forgive you.” His lips purse as he tries to fight off a smile. “I want to apologize too.” He gives me a confused look. “You coming out to your parents is a huge deal, and I didn’t react the way I should have. I’m happy for you. Really. I’m guessing it went well?”

His lips kick up on the sides. “Yeah. Um, apparently my mom thought I might’ve been gay years ago.”

I laugh. “Moms.”

Trevor scoots closer, loosening up. “She might’ve unlocked some shit I didn’t even see back then, but it’s fine. They both know and they don’t care.”

“Good,” I say with a grin. “My mom was always okay with my sexuality. My dad wasn’t.”

He chews on his lip like he isn’t sure if he should ask any questions. “Was that why he…”

“Hit me? No. Not the only reason. It started before I was out. It started with my mom. He had addiction issues, anger issues, and who knows what else. Mom doesn’t know some of the stuff he said to me when she wasn’t around. He called me all the slurs you can think of. Said he’d beat the gay out of me, threatened to force me to sleep with women until I liked it.”

My anger builds, my skin prickling with burning rage. Trevor sits right next to me, his leg pressed against mine, and then he takes my hand in his. It’s a simple gesture, but it almost breaks me.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

I bite down on my lip, fearing if I try to speak right now, emotion will get the best of me. I’m mad for being sad about it. I don’t like feeling like this.

I shake my head. “Nobody does.”

“I feel like shit for being so afraid to tell my parents when that’s how your dad reacted.”

“I’m just glad you had a better reaction.”

“Dominic,” he says quietly. I don’t look at him. I can’t. I’m on the verge of too many emotions. “It’s okay to be sad about it.”

I shake my head, looking away. “Don’t.”

I’ve never allowed myself to be sad. I’ve only been angry. He squeezes my hand, and a good thirty seconds go by before I feel him move and climb into my lap, straddling me while wrapping his arms around my neck.

I break down, my head on his shoulder as I finally cry about my fucked up childhood.

“I don’t know why he always hated me,” I sob. “I’m mad my mom never stopped him, but I feel guilty for not being able to save her from him either.” He squeezes harder and I wrap my arms around him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that life. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.”

It takes a few minutes before I calm down and pull away, pressing my forehead to his. We stay connected like that for a little bit.

“Thank you,” I say. “Sorry for being a mess.”

He lifts my face and stares into my eyes. “Don’t apologize.”

“You’ve made me vulnerable, Campbell.”

“That’s okay.”

I wipe my face and he eases back but still stays on top of me. “I’ve never been in a relationship.”

“Never?”

“No. I don’t like to open up to people. Big surprise, right?” I choke out a laugh. “I don’t like being vulnerable. I like controlling the situation, and dating doesn’t offer me the same amount of control.”

“So, you just do hookups?”

“Basically. There’s two people I’ve been with more than once, and that was twice and three times. Never more than that.”

I see the wheels turning. “So, this is temporary?”

“I thought it was. You were in the closet. I didn’t have to worry about a relationship.”

“But I’ve started coming out.”

“Right.”

“So, what now?”

“Exactly. What now?”

We stare at each other for several seconds before he climbs off my lap and sits next to me. I shift around to face him, because we definitely need to see this conversation to the end.

“What’re you thinking?” I ask.

He shakes his head slightly, a couple locks of his blond hair falling across his forehead before he sweeps them back. “I don’t know. I uh...I guess I never thought I’d be out of the closet, so I didn’t think past secretive hookups.”

I nod once. “And now that your parents know, and a few of your friends?”

“I want to be able to be me. I hate living like this—pretending I’m into girls I’m not interested in, lying about why I never have serious relationships, and not being able to talk about...people I like.”

I arch a brow. “People?”

He grins, but doesn’t clarify. “But what about you? I think we’ve surpassed being together three times.”

“We’ve only had sex once, and I’ve yet to sink into that ass, so…”

“So, you don’t count blowjobs and handjobs?”

I chuckle. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Campbell.”

“What if I never sleep with you? Then technically we’ll never surpass your three time limit.”

My smile widens. “So, you don’t want this to stop? This thing between us?”

He looks confused. “Of course not.”

“I’m the second guy you’ve been with. I don’t know what the hell you and Renzo did, and please spare me the details, but don’t you want to go out and explore? See what you like?”

He turns his head, staring down at his jeans. He’s quiet for a little while before he manages to look me in the eye again, his cheeks a little flush. “I already found what I like.”

I can’t fight the smile that stretches across my face. “I can’t promise I’m good at relationships.”

“I’ve never been in one before either.”

“I found what I like, too,” I tell him.

He gives me a lopsided grin. “I’ll tell everyone else soon. We can go from there.”

“Sounds good. Now come kiss me.”