Especially since all the speculation and rumors are true.
Excerpt
But the second half was more of a blur. Three sacks. How did
they get through his line three times? Two interceptions. He
should have adjusted after the first interception, but then
he was off-center, confused, his mind wasn't in the game like
it should have been.
And Eric knew better than to blow those chances. Cache had
watched from the sidelines, helpless, as Eric orchestrated not
one, not two, but three perfect drives. Perfect in every sense
of the word. He called the right plays. He didn't have a single
missed pass. Eighteen completions for eighteen attempts in the
second half. He had been magnificent. Beautiful, even. And Cache
had been jealous. And he had been angry. And he had been frustrated.
And he had been a little turned on. Just enough to be uncomfortable.
When the fans stormed the field to celebrate, Eric had been
caught in the rush. The hero. The man of the hour. Cache knew
that every talking head, every analyst, every sports writer,
every coach, and every player would be talking about Eric Patton
the next morning. Cache would be forgotten.
As he trudged into the locker room, he couldn't help but think
he'd be forgotten in more ways than one.
In perfect honesty, he had been looking forward to meeting
Eric after the game. He knew that the thought of meeting Eric
hadn't distracted him during the game. Cache was already a pro
at blocking out unwanted thoughts and distractions. When he
was on the field, he only thought about winning. He thought
about the playbook. He thought about strategy.
But as the crowd's cheers and shouts echoed in his ears, he
thought about Eric. The loss was painful, but they would always
have the next year. The possibility he had glimpsed with Eric-well,
the loss of that possibility was far more painful. But there
was no way Eric would be able to get away from the celebrations
that night, and the next day, he would go east, and Eric would
go north. And that would be it.
A few of his teammates tried to draw Cache into discussion,
but the attempts were futile, and they realized it quickly.
They backed off, giving him his space, and he wished he could
rally them, cheer them up, be the right kind of leader. But
his head was a muddle, and he barely heard anything the coach
said in the post-game meeting. He just wanted to get back to
his hotel and pass out and put the night behind him.
By eleven, he was in his hotel room. By eleven-thirty, he was
stretched out in his shorts on the bed, grateful that on this
trip, he didn't have to bunk with anybody. He had the television
on, but he found an old black-and-white movie. It might have
been starring Humphrey Bogart. Cache wasn't sure. All he knew
was, it wouldn't be interrupted with the Rose Bowl score.
The knock came just before midnight. Cache considered pretending
to be asleep, but he knew that it wouldn't do any good to hide
in his room and sulk. If somebody wanted to talk to him, then
he'd be there to talk. That's what a good leader did. And he
did take that responsibility seriously, even if he didn't have
the heart or the energy.
But it wasn't one of his players.
Eric stood in front of him, his hair mussed. The amiable boy
who had found him in the park was gone, replaced by a man that
Cache almost didn't recognize. He knew his surprise was evident
on his face. He tried to form the words to invite Eric in, but
Eric didn't need the invitation. He pushed his way into the
room, kicked the door shut behind him, grabbed Cache's shoulders,
and smashed their mouths together.
Cache barely had a chance to register the kiss before Eric
spun them around and slammed him against the door. He used enough
force to wake up every single bruise, every single cut, every
single ache and pain in his exhausted body. And he was strong
enough to hold Cache there. Cache realized that at his first
weak attempt to struggle, and so he stopped trying to get away.
But he didn't let Eric have control of the kiss.
Their teeth and lips and tongues fought. Cache didn't quite
know the reason for the battle, and he didn't know the terms
of surrender. He only knew he couldn't afford to give Eric an
inch. Eric's fingers dug into his shoulders, and Cache imagined
that he would have oval-shaped bruises the next morning, to
match the rest of his injuries. His hands went to Eric's hips,
and he held him with the same force.
The
headline "Quarterbacks Garnett, Patton, Rumored to be Gay"
greets Cache Garnett the morning after he wins the football championship,
and defeats his biggest rival, Eric Patton. Facing a potentially
career-ending knee injury, the last thing Cache wants to deal
with is speculation about his personal life. If the injury doesn't
end his career, the swirling rumors could.