Chapter 17

Sen

"Hey, you came," Brooks greeted, standing from his seat to give me a hug. I returned it a little awkwardly before I settled beside him.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure that I would, but here I am."

"You must be busy lately. I haven't seen you around very often."

"Just not feeling up to doing much."

"I feel it. If you ever need to talk…"

With a tight-lipped smile, I nodded.

The stadium was just as full as last time. Someone must've saved these seats for us again or Brooks just managed to snag them ahead of time. I wasn't brave enough to ask.

Directing my gaze to the sideline, I watched the cheerleaders do some routines. Kasey stood out among them with bright red streaks on her cheeks, whereas the others had blue. She looked in her element, completely at home while she danced and ran through well-choreographed moves. After they finished one of their sets, she spotted me and waved, giving me a bright smile. I returned the gesture and hoped it appeared more genuine than it felt.

"Are you boning the head cheerleader?" Brooks asked with a laugh.

I couldn't hide my grimace. "No. We've just talked."

"Many men would offer you a sacrifice to trade places."

"Would you?"

"Nah, I'm not into the overly bubbly type. Give me a girl who wants to stay home in sweatpants and eat pizza while we watch bad movies."

I chuckled. "That does sound nice, but you never know. Maybe that's what Kasey does on the weekends."

"Yeah, maybe. I don't really want to find out. Imagine having to scare off all those guys who ogle her."

That did sound terrible. I knew there was more to her than just being a cheerleader, but I also wasn't sure if I'd be able to handle all the attention she got. I could barely handle myself when someone talked to me at random.

What Brooks mentioned sounded great. I just wanted something easy. Comfortable, but not boring. Someone who understood me on a molecular level.

That was laughable. I couldn't understand myself and even if I did, I'd just live in denial.

And there it was. It hadn't come into my head so aggressively up to this point. Try as I might, these thoughts clearly weren't going away. I could fight and fight, but I was so tired. I didn't know if it made me weak to simply stop. If it did, then I guess I was weak.

For him. I was weak for him. That goddamn guy running onto the field right now was messing up my head. All of the things I'd been taught and the years of being normal were just demolished by a man with eyes the color of pine and the purest soul I'd ever encountered. And they wanted me to think there was something wrong with him? Had they fucking met him?

I wanted him to look at me. I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like I was going to do anything if he did. Admitting something in my head was nowhere near equivalent to telling him what I felt. Maybe I never would.

With my thoughts, I felt a wave of nausea, but it was tolerable. I wasn't doing anything wrong, just letting my mind wander. It was harmless.

Like some conscious beast within me, the sick feeling subsided enough for me to focus on the game. I was only half paying attention, though. My eyes were on 43. He was put in after half time and he was driving the crowd wild. Every time he scored, he waved his arms in the air and captured people's attention. He was a machine tonight, powerful and inimitable.

Until he wasn't.

He got hit hard. I was on my feet immediately, my eyes locked on the field where he lay. He was on his back with his knees up and it was impossible to tell if he was just catching his breath or worse. West got to him first and knelt beside him. They seemed to be talking. After a moment, he clasped his hand and pulled him up.

The crowd cheered, but I just watched. He waved off the medics, instead heading for the locker room. West tried to go after him, but the coach grabbed his arm and pointed to the field. He wanted to put him in. I knew he must've been struggling with it, but he nodded and ran onto the field.

"Where are you going?" Brooks asked.

I raced down the steps. The game was already forgotten. I was never here to keep score anyway. No, I was here to settle a score with myself and my own stupidity. What was I going to do? I had no clue, but we were going to find out.

Since I couldn't go onto the field, I moved around the building until I found the side door. When I opened it, I was hit with the familiar smell of sweat and stale air. It was even less appealing when I wasn't contributing to the scent. Now I understood why my mom always complained about how I'd smell after a game. She would make me keep the windows rolled down while we drove home.

White brick made up the walls on either side of me. The hallway turned to the left, then opened up into the locker room. I glanced around but didn't see anybody. Continuing further in, I moved past aisles of lockers and benches, looking and listening for some sign of life.

What if he hit his head on the field? He didn't let anyone examine him. He could have passed out in here.

Before I could get too worked up, I saw him around another set of lockers. He was leaning against the wall with his head tipped back. His helmet was still on, so I couldn't tell if he had his eyes open.

With his gear on, he looked like a different person. He was bulkier and his arms were covered by a black compression shirt. His gloves had been discarded and I found myself staring at his hands. The olive tone was darkened by dirt, probably from touching his jersey. I had the sudden urge to see how it felt on his skin- the grittiness against softer, slightly callused fingers.

I took another step and his head whipped down. Through the helmet, I could see bits of his face. He reached up to pull it off, then held it at his side.

"Sen?"

There was sweat rolling down his temple and dampening his hair, darkening it further. It curled around his ears, which were slightly red from the heat of his body. My gaze traveled across his sharp jaw, pausing where it curved under his ear. His lips were slightly parted and as I watched, he licked them, leaving them glistening.

Shit.

I took another step. His brow tightened as he waited.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"Sen, what are you doing here?"

"Can you answer my question first?"

His throat bobbed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just gonna be sore."

"Where?"

He put a hand on his chest. I closed the distance between us and nearly touched the same spot, but I lowered my arm to my side.

"I was worried," I whispered.

"Don't be."

"Do you think we could maybe talk?"

The way he eyed me made me breathless. I couldn't tell if it was disdain or anger. Maybe something else entirely.

"I liked when we used to hang out," I went on when he didn't answer.

"Jesus, Sen." He swiped a hand down his face. "I really enjoyed hanging out with you too, but it doesn't matter. This back-and-forth thing doesn't work for me. You can't try to be my friend one day and homophobic the next. It just doesn't work."

"It's not because I think you'll get confused."

"What?" His voice was tinged with frustration, but I stood my ground.

"I'm worried I'll get confused. It's me who's the problem."

"I don't understand. Why are you confused?"

"Because you're beautiful," I blurted. Putting a hand over my mouth, I felt my face heat.

His eyes were wide. "I'm…"

"It's fine that you're gay. I'm not homophobic. I just can't be around that."

The anger came back into his voice and his expression hardened. "Sounds homophobic to me."

"No, it's… complicated."

My heart galloped in my chest, faster with every word we said to each other. He seemed to sense my anxiety because he let out a breath and relaxed against the wall.

"I like unraveling things," he said gently.

"I have thoughts."

"Okay, you mad little rabbit. What are these thoughts?"

"About men. And it's wrong. I have to keep away from that."

He blinked rapidly a few times, then slower. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before coming back to my face.

"You think about men? Sexually?"

I nodded. "It's an affliction. I have to work on it all the time, but it's harder with someone like you."

"Someone like me…"

"Attractive," I whispered. "Kind and alluring."

"So, you're attracted to me and you have sexy thoughts about other guys. That's normal."

"No, it's not!"

The force of my statement surprised both of us. When he stepped forward, I moved back.

"I don't care that you're this way," I continued. "But it's not me. I'm not supposed to do this. They fixed me, but now I'm slipping. It's all a goddamn disaster."

"Wait, wait, wait." He held up a hand. "They… Who fixed you, Sen?"

"I'm not supposed to be this way."

"I'm sorry. I don't understand what you're saying."

Shaking my head, I took another step back. "This isn't right. I need to go. I'm sorry."

I turned around, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. Suddenly, I was pressed up against the wall with his arms boxing me in. I'd never felt more trapped and exhilarated at the same time. He kept his body away from mine, only close enough so that I couldn't escape. He smelled like sweat and grime, but I couldn't even bring myself to care.

"I want to hear what this is about," he insisted firmly.

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does, actually." Not knowing what to say, I stayed silent. "You're allowed to like men."

"I don't like men. My head just gets confused."

"You really think that." He sounded almost shocked and the soft tone of his voice felt like it stroked some damaged place deep inside of me. "On a soul-deep level, you think there's something wrong with you. Oh, Sen. I'm so sorry someone made you feel like this."

My breaths hitched as panic burned through my chest. "Back up. Please."

"Who did that? Who wanted to fix you? Your parents?"

"I said back up."

"You came here. I think it's because you wanted to tell someone. Me."

"Please," I whispered.

He pinched my chin, tilting my face so that I would look at him. The pure kindness in his eyes made mine feel hot. I wanted to escape and lean into him; push him away and beg him to hold me together. My gaze dropped to his lips and without thinking about it, I leaned forward.

A surprised sound came from his throat and he was tense against me, but after a moment, his lips softened. He let out a long breath through his nose, then trailed his hand down to my neck. His fingers wrapped lightly around my throat, holding me in place as he deepened the kiss. My body lit up with a fire that had been absent since I kissed Travis at camp. Even then, it wasn't this consuming.

Kissing Kai was delirium and ecstasy. It took those pieces of resistance that were barely hanging on and completely disintegrated them. I didn't even miss them as they returned to whatever black void they'd been conjured from. All that existed in this moment was him.