I sigh because, “We don’t know. Larson won’t do anything while he thinks he still has a chance with Kit. In some sick way, I think he does care about Kit, which is why he would out the team if y’all fire him. He’ll out y’all if we report him, too. We need time to figure out what to do. We just . . . wanted to tell you why the Rubies got all those bad calls during the game on Saturday.”
Dragging a hand down his face, Mathis groans, suddenly looking aged beyond his years. “So as long as Kit keeps leading him on, he won’t release the pictures. And as long as the Rubies don’t wrong him or Kit, we won’t be outed. That right?”
The four of us nod.
“Fine. I’ll look into this. Kit, just keep doing what you’re doing. And Ellingsworth? Go back to your side of town. God knows the tabloids are going to have a field day with the pictures they got of you walking in here.”
“There weren’t—”
“Yes. There were. The paparazzi are everywhere, boys, and they catch everything. Keep that in mind.”
CHAPTER 31
HENDRIX AVERY
“Are you sure you can be here?” Micah asks me while looking around nervously.
“There isn’t a rule that says I can’t be.” I glance down at my gold jersey, some random number in the center of the chest because they either don’t sell ones with Tahegin’s name yet or they were all sold out in the gift shop. Looking at Micah, I clock his dark hair sprayed with glittering gold temporary hair dye. He looks like a unicorn fucked a lucky pot of gold and then gave birth on top of his head. It’s completely ridiculous, which means I also look ridiculous because he tagged me with the same stuff before we left our hotel earlier.
Since my team is on our bye week, I decided to travel to Seattle to watch Tahegin’s game. So far, no one has noticed one of the Rubies’ receivers sitting among them, but Micah is being totally paranoid about it. The last two months have been . . . trying. Tahegin and I may be living in the same city, but our practice schedules are so packed that we hardly see each other, especially when we’re both traveling for games every week. I did manage to find a modest house nearly perfectly equidistant between our two training fields, but Coach Mathis’ words have stayed with me, even when buying a house. He’s right; the paparazzi are everywhere. Just last week, some player in Aleks’ queer—sorry, inclusive group—was caught walking into a BDSM club, and the picture ended up splashed across every news article and gossip magazine. It was so bad the discreet sex club had to relocate to a new, undisclosed location.
So when purchasing a house that Tahegin and I are to share, I’d done the smart thing and, with his permission, put the house in Micah’s name. It’s safer that way, for now.
Even with the house in the middle, our careers have gotten the best of us more than a few times. If I’m going to be too late or have an early morning the next day, I usually don’t make it as far as Tahegin’s house while he sleeps at the middle house. If he is going to be very late or early, sometimes he gets a hotel room next to his training field. It’s strange to return to a house I call my own—Micah’s name on it excluded—to see how it has been lived in by someone else. It’s all Tahegin—affirmations on the bathroom mirror and laundry left on the couch where he didn’t quite get around to folding it—and I love every reminder that he has been there. I love leaving notes or a fresh vase of flowers for him, too; he texts me every time he sees them around the house.
Tahegin’s house, I’ve noticed, has been oddly . . . quiet. I haven’t seen a whiff of his staff since he went to the Treasures, but I did come home to find the dishes washed and put away one day last month. He probably just backed them off since he isn’t staying there as much, though I haven’t thought to question him about it.
“So.” Micah’s voice drags me back to the stadium, where the teams have disappeared into the locker rooms for halftime. He’s holding up his hands and ticking off his fingers as he wonders aloud. “The two teams in the Super Bowl aren’t in the same—what was it?—thingy.”
Gregory Ellingsworth, Tahegin’s father, is a man with all the patience in the world. Apparently, he spent last season teaching Micah the positions on a team and what each one does. Since Tahegin is on the Treasures now, they haven’t had much time to go over anything else, though Gregory started to explain the conferences and divisions to him during the preseason game between the Treasures and the Rubies. It seems they are picking up where they left off last time.
I’ll admit, I was nervous as hell to be around Tahegin’s family without him as a buffer, but Micah and Gregory are close, so it has been manageable so far.
“Conference,” Gregory explains. “There are two conferences, and the highest-ranked team from each competes in the Super Bowl.”
“How do they determine the ranks?”
“By the games played in the regular season, then the playoffs.”
“So, all of this thingy plays each other”—Micah holds one hand out—“and all of the second one plays each other.” He holds out his other hand. “That determines the rank?”
I roll my lips between my teeth to stifle my chuckle and think to myself, Good luck with that question, Greg.
“Um—” Gregory thinks on it, but Micah interrupts.
“Are the Rubies and the Treasures in the same thingy?”
“Conference,” I correct him. “And no.”
“So why did you two play earlier this season?”
“It was a preseason game. Different rules.”
“What about next week?”
Right. Because our two teams are facing off again next week, and this time, it actually counts.
I’m stumped, trying to figure out how to explain the complicated schedule when he can’t even remember the word conference, much less the names of the two and the divisions within them.
Football is not an uncomplicated sport.
“Can I see your Skittles?” Gregory asks me, so I pass him the unopened bag. Then, he signs to Willow, asking for her M&Ms. “Okay, Micah. You have two conferences—Skittles and M&Ms.” He holds up the two different bags of candy as a visual aid. Willow looks questioningly at me, so I automatically begin signing for her everything her father is explaining to Micah. “So, each of these is divided up—”
Micah groans. “There’s more?”
“This one is easy. North, South, East, and West. Like a compass.” Greg opens the bags and lines up the candies, Skittles on one side and M&Ms on the other. Each side has four rows, and each row contains four candies of the same color. Yellow, green, orange, and red. “Two conferences, four divisions each, see? Now, it gets a little tricky, so bear with me. During the regular season, each team will play the three other teams in their division twice. Take the Rubies, for example.” He holds up a red Skittle. “They will play the Arizona Monsters, San Francisco Dragons, and Seattle Emeralds two times—one home game, one away.”
“Wait.” Micah raises his hand like we’re in high school. “Question.”
“Go ahead.”
“If the Emeralds are a red Skittle, why are they playing a red M&M today? Is it because they’re in the same compass direction?”
Greg chuckles, shaking his head. “Division, and no. They’re both West divisions, but they’re different conferences. Skittle and M&M, see? They are playing today because it is red M&M’s year to play them. Next year, it will move to a different M&M color. It rotates on a four-year cycle.”
“That’s why the Rubies and the Treasures are playing next week. Red M&Ms and red Skittles.”
“Now you’re getting it,” Greg praises with a smile. “Okay, so the rest of the schedule—”
