Caleb picked up the plainwhite tee turned inside out.
“Oh, hey.Thanks.”
Caleb raised his chin andshielded his eyes from the glare. Against the panorama ofgray-tinged clouds and orange sun was Franco.
Chapter 11: SideMaestro
After witnessing Franco inhis half-naked glory, Caleb’s first instinct was to leave and hidesomewhere. Instead Caleb had sat frozen, watching Franco streakinto the field, only to stop short by the sidelines to wait for thereferee to allow him to play.
Why should heleave? Caleb stuck out his chin indefiance. His world shouldn’t change just because of Franco’ssudden arrival.
But things were alreadychanging. With Franco on the field, Caleb couldn’t concentrate onthe game. His mind ballooned with questions. Had Tara told Franco how big a jerk he was? Was Tara mad athim? Was Franco mad at him, too?
Caleb was still lost inthought when a jubilant roar broke out in the field. The shirtlessteam was jumping and whooping in a tight circle. In the middle ofthat huddle was Franco, laughing and flecked with mud, as histeammates lifted him up in the air.
Caleb hitched his backpackon his shoulders, and jumped to his feet. The game was over. Therewas no more reason for him to stay.
He was already a few feetaway when he heard someone shouting his name. A plethora ofemotions swirled in his chest—embarrassment, anxiety and yes,hope.
Caleb took a deep breath,squared his shoulders, and whirled around.
* * *
The air conditioning atthe fast food joint wasn’t unreasonably cold, but every now andthen, Caleb gave an involuntary shiver. He filled his head withimages of warmth—steaming mugs of coffee, heat rising from thepavement, the Sahara desert. Still, he couldn’t stop his body fromtrembling as he watched Franco chomp down his second burger, hislower lip rimmed with catsup.
“Nothungry?” Franco gestured to Caleb’s untouched food.
In response, Calebsnatched a fry and crammed it into his mouth.
“It feels great to playagain.” Franco lifted the rest of his burger to his lips. “When Iwas still on the varsity team, I could finish four of these in onego.”
“You were on the footballteam?” Caleb’s voice was incredulous.
Franco laughed. “Yup,since freshman. I stopped playing last year because I got busy withWordplay. I’m glad the guys still let me play for fun.”
“You played great,” Caleblied. He hadn’t actually seen Franco in action, but he must havebeen good if he scored the victory point.
“Good thing I came induring the last few minutes.” Franco grinned. “If I played theentire game, my tongue would be hanging out in the first hour. I’llnever hear the end of my lack of stamina from the guys.”
“Sir, is everything inorder? Anything else you need?” A girl in crew attire hovered overtheir table, fluttering her eyelashes at Franco.
“We’re good. Thanks.”Franco turned on his million-peso smile.
The girl’s smile grewwider before she excused herself. Caleb saw her look over hershoulder once at Franco before resuming her place behind thecounter.
“I hope you’re not in ahurry.” Those coffee-bean eyes were trained on Caleb again. So darkand deep that if he looked at them long enough, Caleb wouldn’t findhis way back. “I wanted to talk to you about Tara.”
Snapping out of histrance, Caleb stiffened, defenses at the ready.
“Tara’s awesome, but Iknow how she can get a bit too much sometimes.” Franco grinnedapologetically. “She’s used to getting her own way—even with a guyshe likes.”
Caleb felt himself relax.“I don’t get it. Tara could have her pick of guys.” Rememberingwhat Ginny told her, he added hastily, “And I’m not fishing forcompliments, okay? I just don’t see myself as her type.”
Franco laughed.“She does haveher pick of guys. That girl has had more boyfriends in college thanI’ve ever had in my entire life.” He grinned. “But I can see whyshe gravitated to you. Her exes were all jocks, alpha-male types.To her, you were unexplored territory—the quiet, broodingartist.”
Caleb snatched up hisfries, feeling his face burn.
“I warned Tara that youmight not be into her. Of course she didn’t listen.” He stretchedout his legs, nudging Caleb’s knee. “No one’s ever turned her downbefore. Understandably, her ego’s bruised.” His gaze turnedthoughtful. “Is there anything you want me to tell her? To softenthe blow?”
Caleb’s eyes widened.“Like what?”
Franco shrugged. “Like agirlfriend? The girl with the colorful hair?”
“Ginny? She’s just afriend.”
“Okay then.” Francoshrugged again. “A boyfriend?”
Caleb didn’t know whatexpression crossed his face then, but whatever it was, it hadFranco blurting, “A joke. Forget it.”
The awkward momentstretched out like taffy, sticky and seemingly endless. Calebcleared his throat.
“Was it hard to be on theteam? Didn’t the guys ever . . . make fun of you?”
Franco tucked his legsback in. This time, Caleb didn’t flinch when their kneesbumped.
“On myfirst day of training, I wore a shirt with the words:I’m gay. Get over it. I figured I should put it out there right away. At first, theguys thought it was a joke. But when I told them I was serious,most of them shied away from me. During practice, they’d never passme the ball. Coach talked to all of us, and for a while, I’d beincluded in the game. But that never lasted.”
He smiled. “Then there wasthis crucial game, and my teammate accidentally passed the ball tome. I was so ready for it.” He looked up, beaming. “And I killedit. Scored two goals in a row. Our team won. Never had a problemsince then.”
Caleb felt indignant. “Butwhy did you have to prove yourself first before they accepted you?They shouldn’t have shut you out because you’re gay.”
Franco sighed. “Look, I’vebeen lucky to have a chill family, but I’ve grown to accept thatnot everyone’s the same way. Understanding and acceptance go bothways. I can choose to act like a victim—or I can accept that peopleare naturally scared of things they don’t understand. I allow for alearning curve.”
“But doesn’t it feel weird. . . to be the only gay member on the team?”
Franco’s eyebrows shot up.“Why? Being gay doesn’t make me all that different.” He shifteduncomfortably in his seat. “But there are some people
