15. Lucas

CHAPTER 15

LUCAS

Something was up.

Like... not just the shitshow that was my life. Or maybe I was merely being paranoid. When I cracked the door open to peek out, sure Cooper knocked to beg me to let him in after all, Marisol, Liz, and Tori had shoved their way inside. Overwhelm swamped my disappointment. The three of them a veritable tornado, they pushed me back into the apartment. Tori pulled me into the living room, Liz opened cabinets to make drinks, and Marisol shook the plastic bag she'd brought with them. "I told Mom you were suffering from heartbreak, so she sent some of the tamales she made for Nito's birthday. She always makes too many. Score! I've got mariscos, bean and cheese, that weird fungus you like?—"

"Huitlacoche," Tori called before I could. "Those are the shit. Save me two!"

"Y'all are welcome to 'em. I'm keeping the poblanos," Marisol said decisively.

"Water, tea, or beer?" Liz held up an empty glass and a bottle of beer. "Personally, I'd go with the nonalcoholic options because hon, you look like shit, and booze will only dehydrate you."

I snorted wetly. "Tea." As nice as getting myself drowsy-drunk and just sleeping until everything seemed less awful sounded nice, I knew that would only make things worse. Hangovers never made the morning brighter, and drinking didn't solve anything, just made it less present until I sobered up. Nodding approvingly, Liz popped back into the kitchen.

I sank on the sofa and let them whirl around in controlled chaos, closing my eyes and trying not to cry.

"Hey," Tori said quietly. "Listen, it's bullshit, okay? We all know it's bullshit. And we're gonna try to help fix this. But it's okay for it to be awful right now."

"That's kind of what I told Cooper earlier," I sighed, opening one eye to look at her beside me. "But Tori, I'm never gonna be let back on the squad. Even if Jameson came out tomorrow morning and announced he screwed me over, that I never tried to manipulate him, I'd still be found in breach of my contract. They'll have someone new in the lineup before next Friday. And I'll be at the studio, with Lynda and Mom telling me they told me so and how right they were and how I've wasted my life."

She toed my ankle. "Hey. Look at me, Lucas. Shhh. Look at me. Now listen." Leaning in closer, she lowered her voice so Marisol and Liz couldn't hear and chime in. "So what?"

"Uh. That's not what I was expecting?"

"So what ?" she insisted. "You knew when you tried out that this isn't a long-term job. Not the cheering end of things anyway. You can love something infinitely, but it doesn't make it right for you."

"Your pep talks suck," I muttered.

She laughed, pushing her braids back over her shoulder and leaning in to give me a sideways hug. "But I'm right. And now we're going to have tamales from Marisol's mom. We're going to drink sweet tea, and we're going to watch some trashy reality TV. Then we're going to let you talk."

Liz appeared, setting glasses down in front of us, followed by Marisol with plates. "And when you're done talking," Liz said, "we're going to help."

"But—"

"But nothing," Marisol scolded gently. "You're gonna steer this ship, okay? We'll figure this out together because that's what ride-or-die besties do."

My poor heart had been dragged from one extreme to the other today, and I didn't know how to feel just then. Happy I had support, distraught because I had to lean on them... angry at Creel, frustrated at myself for being young and making foolish choices. For being older and making the same choice.

Liz waved her fork at me. "What did Cass have to say?"

I shrugged. "She texted earlier, said to keep my mouth shut basically, and she'd let me know how management wants this presented. She's pushing for an official statement tomorrow since Jameson's making this everyone's business." Though delicious, the tamale felt heavy when I swallowed, choking on the words already in my throat. "If this was just me dating Cooper, I'd be let go, and it'd barely be a ripple," I sighed. "But because Jameson decided to make this his lore, now I'm dragged out in the middle of everything, and my reputation is shot to hell. Fuck!" I dropped my plate on the coffee table with a clatter, making them all jump in their seats. "Sorry! Just... I'm going to have to tell Liesel I appreciate her insisting I stay on, but this will screw them over."

Marisol set her own plate down far more delicately, dabbing at her lips with one of Renata's everyday cloth napkins. "Not necessarily."

She told me about her brother's offer to start legal proceedings to make Jameson shut the fuck up, including his pro bono offer. "Unless it becomes a huge thing. Then he'll take his fee out of your compensation because Nito don't play. He'll have Jameson wrung dry before that asshole has a chance to even blink in court."

Before I could stop myself, a small huff of laughter escaped. "Nito's very confident," I said dryly.

"Because he knows he's good." She picked her plate back up and took a defiant bite of the tamale.

"Right. First thing we're doing. Eating and catching up with the Kardashians," Liz said loudly. "Where's the remote? Enough about Nito's briefs."

"Oh, ew, Liz." Marisol flicked a bit of masa at her.

"Ah! Renata will kill me! Save the food fights for the kitchen. Everything in there can be wiped down!"

Tori grabbed the remote from the side table. Within seconds, we were watching overly wealthy people complain about how hard life was. Which, to be fair, maybe it was. Money didn't fix everything. It sure didn't hurt, though, I thought glumly, glancing around the apartment. There went moving out in the next year or two, unless something miraculous happened soon and I not only got my job back but a huge raise.

While the episodes played and the tamales dwindled down to nothing, I drifted. Marisol went to the kitchen and came back with cookies since her mother heard heartbreak, and that word activated Southern moms like sleeper agents, triggering an outpouring of food.

"Have you given any more thought to grad school?" Liz asked after another episode wrapped up. "I know you mentioned it before..."

"Maybe," I grumbled. "Now I don't know if I can, though. Money aside, I was going to parlay working with Queering Sports into a platform for my master's degree one day. I might be able to get into a good nonprofit management program but at this point..."

"Hon." Tori turned off the TV and leaned forward, grabbing both of my hands in hers. "You're not that special."

Offense quickly morphing into surprised laughter, I sputtered, "What?"

"People in grad school—hell, in every facet of life—have either fucked up royal or been dragged through the mud, or both. And you know what? They're doing okay. Some of them better than okay. And if a graduate program refuses you because some no-neck dipshit with a five-head and all the personality of a wet wad of toilet paper talked trash about you, then that program doesn't deserve your name on their roster."

"It's more complicated than that," I started, but Tori gently pinched my lips together. "Mmph?"

"Shhhh," Tori soothed. "It's really not. You've just set your standards to a level that doesn't exist."

Marisol gently patted my knee. "I know about having stupid high standards, babe, and yours are bananas."

Pushing Tori's hand away, I glared at Liz. "Don't you have anything to add?"

She shrugged. "They'll tag me in when they need a breather," she said, laughing at my offended gasp.

"Listen, Lucas," Liz redirected, "we're not saying high standards are bad. Just make them realistic ."

"You're not a saint, babe." Marisol took a savage bite of her cookie. "You're stronger than you think. And if your mom or auntie think this is some divine sign they're right, I'll kick their asses for you."

"Titi could totally take you in a fight," I muttered, snagging another cookie. Brown butter chocolate chip fixed everything, really.

"So here's what I'm thinking." Liz brushed crumbs from her hands, her clear tone interrupting the incipient cat fight between me and Marisol. What can I say—arguing's our love language."You have two options here: hang on to hope and pray management comes down hard on your side and stands up for you. Or two, you start looking for the good in this. Like," she waved one finger, "you are officially free to date Cooper without trying to keep it quiet."

"And you have the time to get an actual paying job that doesn't require you to wax from eyebrows to toes every three weeks," Tori added.

Marisol rolled her eyes. "Y'all are forgetting the most important part. Lucas can make Creel look like shit and also boost Queering Sports!" She paused, giving me a wide and toothy grin. "And the super-secret third thing: be out and open with his actual boyfriend who gives a good goddamn about him."

Oh . I sat up, putting my drink and the remains of a cookie down on the coffee table without a care for a coaster. I'd suffer the wrath of Renata later, but at that moment, a beam of sunlight broke through iron-dark clouds, and I couldn't look away. "Cooper."

My friends leaned forward. "Go on," Marisol urged, a tiny smirk playing on her lips. "Tell us all about him."

"If one good thing comes of this whole mess," Tori added, "you can date whoever you want. Even another player."

"And you stop seeing all players as unmitigated assholes," Liz threw in.

"They're not all assholes," I grumbled, cheeks warm. "Just some of them." Grabbing my cookie again, I took a decisive bite. "And Cooper is the polar opposite of Jameson. No! He's not even on the same spectrum as Jameson! He's amazing."

"Awwwwww," Marisol teased. "Someone's twitterpated."

Liz shook her head. "No, someone's happy ."

"He was here earlier. I made him leave, though. I wanted to wallow and be mad." The cookie was gone, and I was sad about it, but the bubbling excitement in my chest was more than enough to make me forgo another. "Cooper just wants me to be happy." And saying the words made everything lock into place.

Cooper was a constant for me. We were building the one thing that felt real and solid. He had no expectations other than my happiness— our happiness—and he didn't want me to fit some idea in his head of what his boyfriend should seem like, act like, be like in order to make him look good.

"That's the goofy face of a man in love," Tori teased softly.

"He's just so good ," I sighed with a hint of a whine.

"Tell us about him," Marisol urged again, this time kindly, no hint of teasing. "If our bestie is gonna date this guy, we need details."

"But not the naked ones," Liz blurted. "Keep those to yourself! I don't need to know about anyone's penis!"

"Except Robert's," Tori muttered.

I sat up. "Excuse me? Robert? As in Robert the groundskeeper? Robert with the pretty eyes? Robert with the arms ?"

"Shut up," Liz whined. "This is about you!"

"And Cooper," Marisol intervened. "So spill."

"Right. We'll get back to Robert in a bit," I muttered. "Because hello, miss secret squirrel with this news!"

Tori cleared her throat. "Talk. Now."

So I did. And it was disgustingly sappy. Cooper's goodness, the way he didn't try to remake me, the way he respected keeping it quiet but not because he was ashamed... How kind he was. Smart and funny and how he made me feel. "Honestly," I said, pausing for a moment, weighing the words, "he's the first guy who saw me and not some idea of who they wanted me to be."

I sniffed, grabbing for my drink again. "I mean, seriously, I can't think of another guy who would've actually listened when I said to leave Creel alone. If things were reversed in Bizarro land and I'd been dating Creel and Cooper'd been the dickbag, Jimmy would be out trying to find him right now and being all big-balled about shit."

Liz got to her feet. "Well, I need another glass of tea. Anyone else?"

Marisol popped up. "I'll help."

"Me too!"

They headed to the kitchen, almost at a run.

"Wait!"

As one, they turned towards me. I got up, walking slowly towards them. "What is going on? Y'all are terrible liars, and I know you're trying it right now. What happened? Did Cooper beat up Jimmy before coming here? Did he lie to me?"

Marisol jerked her chin up defiantly, while Tori fiddled with the end of one of her braids, giving me a bland, curious expression. Liz looked anywhere but at me. Bingo . The weakest link.

"Lizard, talk to me."

"I...think that tea sounds really good right now," she squeaked, hurrying to the fridge.

I followed.

"Not only am I your colleague—well, not only was I, blah blah blah, since now I'm fired, but I'm your teacher! "

"Oh! That reminds me! I need to reschedule next week's private. I have a dentist appointment."

I narrowed my eyes. Marisol and Tori slipped back into the living room, leaving me and Liz alone. "What happened, Liz?"

She pinched her lower lip between her thumb and forefinger, eyes moving all around, avoiding my glare. Finally, she broke. "Ugh, okay! I told Cooper he might find Creel at Hotel Laviol."

"Where Dezzy bartends?" Liz nodded. "Shit! That was hours ago!" I bolted for my phone, left on the arm of the sofa. Several messages from Cass, two from Dani, one from Renata, one from Lynda, one from Dad, but nothing from Cooper.

Shit.

"I need to go," I blurted. "Cooper's going to ruin his career because of me and?—"

"And," Marisol said sternly, stepping in front of me to block my panicked flight to the door. "I thought you trusted him."

"I do! But?—"

"But," Tori added, "if you trust him, trust him ."

Liz made a sad noise low in her throat. "He was really mad," she whispered. "I thought maybe... let him. Because Creel is an asshole and ruined your career and?—"

"And," Marisol cut her off. "Do you really think Cooper is hotheaded enough to throw his entire life's work away to beat on some jerkwad ex-player who thinks his own shit doesn't stink?"

"No," I admitted, jittering anxiously. "But I can't let him?—"

"You can." Looping her arm through mine, she led me back to the sofa. "So right now we're going to sit down. And you're going to tell us about the amazing things you're going to do next because I know you have plans."

"I don't think I'm ready." My voice shaking just made me more annoyed with the entire situation. My voice never shakes. Not even when I'm in front hundreds, even thousands, of people! I shook my head, knuckling my tear-stung eyes. "I need more time."

"Lying liar who lies," Tori pronounced. "You've got a million of 'em. You just don't know which ones to take yet."

Liz was quiet, settling on the very edge of the sofa cushion beside me. "Sorry," she whispered. "I thought maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing if Creel got a little scared, you know?"

I nodded. "I know."

But now I was going to be terrified until I heard from Cooper.