Freed, page 14
Maybe, like with Spencer, it needed to happen this way for me to actually do it. Maybe I needed to heightened emotions and brittle tension of the situation with Trevor to acknowledge who I am to these guys – guys who’ve been my brother for the last few years now. Guys I’ve shed blood, sweat, and tears with. Guys who I’ve shared some of the best times of my life with – few though they may be. Maybe I actually needed them to know. Maybe I needed to stop living the lie and be who I really am with them.
And now that it’s out, I need to make sure I take control of the narrative. I look around the locker room and make sure I have everybody’s attention. My stomach is churning but not with fear – with excitement. Unexpected as this situation is, I see it as an opportunity to unveil my truth. Some of them will undoubtedly turn away from me and that’s okay because the ones who don’t – those are the ones I can truly call my brothers.
“Yeah guys, I’m gay. It’s been a tough road for me to admit that, but there it is. I’m gay and have been this whole time,” I announce. “I’ve been gay all the years we’ve been in this locker room together and have I come on to any of you? Have I done anything that has made you uncomfortable?”
Nobody answers so Trevor steps into the breach with an ugly sneer on his face. Because, of course he does. That’s just who he is.
“I’m uncomfortable just having a fag in the locker room,” he states. “You know he’s been checking us all out, trying to indoctrinate us into that whole homo agenda shit. You know he’ll try to fuck you given a chance – that’s just how these people are.”
My anger is boiling beneath the surface and I’m finding it hard to keep from unleashing it on him. I’m tired of him walking around like a macho asshole like he thinks he’s the definition of masculinity, and I’m tired of his homophobic bullshit. This shit needs to stop.
“These faggots are perverts,” Trevor continues. “They can’t help themselves.”
“Call me a fag one more time,” I tell him, my voice low.
Trevor stands nose to nose with me again, his eyes boring into mine and a sneer upon his lips. He looks over at Cody for encouragement and his sidekick nods eagerly.
“Okay listen up then,” he says. “You. Are. A. Fag.”
He never even sees it coming. Hell, I don’t even fully realize I’m in motion until I hear the sharp crack as my fist meets his face, the shock of it reverberating all the way up my arm to my shoulder. To my ears, my fist connecting with Trevor’s jaw sounds like a baseball hitting an old leather mitt – and then I watch as his head is rocked sharply to the side.
His eyes glaze over and he lets out a low moan as he pitches to the side, crumpling into a heap on the ground where he lays completely still. I look down and he’s not moving – he’s out cold. There’s a collective gasp in the locker room around me as I drop Trevor and the silence grows even more complete. A needle dropping would sound like a gunshot at that moment.
Cody takes a step toward me but when I turn to square up with him, he stops in his tracks and thinks better of it, raising his hands and taking a step backward. His eyes are wide and his face is a mask of confusion. It’s like he can’t comprehend what just happened. Doesn’t understand that the guy he looks up to and thinks walks on water just got dropped. He turns away and walks back to his locker.
“That’s what I thought,” I growl.
On the ground, Trevor moans low and starts to roll over. He’s on his back, looking up at me, his eyes still glassy, a dazed look on his face. I stand over him and lean down, making sure I’m holding his gaze so he knows what just happened and more importantly, who did it.
“That’s right,” I hiss. “You just got knocked the fuck out by a faggot.”
I stand up again and look around at the rest of the team who are standing there in stunned silence. I see eyes moving from Trevor to me and back again and nobody is moving. Nobody is speaking. I’m not even entirely sure anybody is even breathing right now.
“Is there anybody else?” I ask as I turn in a circle, taking everybody in. “Anybody else wants to step up and call me a faggot? Anybody?”
Spencer steps through the crowd and puts his hand on my shoulder. I try to tell him to not do what he’s about to do but he ignores me. He looks around the locker room as well, looking at our teammates one by one and then addresses them as a group.
“If you have a problem with Dylan, you’ve got a problem with me,” he says. “This is my brother and –”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t want it done like that. I don’t want to be here if it’s only because everybody is afraid you’re going to beat their ass if they speak out. If I’m going to remain here and be part of the team, it’s because you guys want me here,” I announce. “So, I’m going to step out for a while. I want you all to talk about it and decide what to do. If you’re not comfortable having me here, knowing that I’m gay, so be it. But it’s a team decision guys and I will respect that. I’m not going to force myself on anybody.”
I look around one more time and then nod to myself. Leaving Trevor on the floor where I dropped him, I turn and head out of the locker room to give them time to deliberate.
* * * * *
It’s about an hour later when I get a text message from Spencer asking me to come back to the locker room. Truthfully, I’m expecting them to send me packing. I know the hypermasculine culture of athletes well. Hell, I was part of it. I helped perpetuate it. While I know that not all of them are assholes about it like Trevor, I know that some silently agree with him.
As I’ve grown and have come to know and accept myself over these last few months, I’ve come to hate and despise that culture and all it stands for. But I am not going to be the type of hypocrite who will turn around now and suddenly denounce them for it. I can’t rightly fault some of these guys for remaining steeped in a culture I had a hand in maintaining.
My hope is to begin changing perceptions. And while I may not be able to do that from the inside, as a member of the athletic community, I can – and will – begin working on changing the culture from the outside. Wes has talked a lot about establishing a visible presence on campus for the gay community, one that promotes tolerance and understanding, as well as doing good works and I plan on being heavily involved in that.
I know all of this is going to cause a stir and is going to create waves – both in my life as a student and in my personal life as well. But I can’t sit idly by and let bad things happen to good people. I won’t. Not anymore. And since I was part of the problem for so long, it’s only right that I’m now part of the solution.
I open the doors and step into Miller House – the building devoted to the lacrosse team. I walk down the long hallway and admire the trophies and memorabilia in the glass cases the line the walls in the large reception hall. I stop before the trophy cases that display our national championship trophies, a small smile touching my lips. We won it all my freshman year and have a good chance to win it this year too. But then my smile fades knowing I’m likely not going to be a part of the team that will hoist the trophy.
As much as I love playing the game, I know that there is no place for lacrosse in my life after school. There’s a startup pro league I toyed with the idea of joining but I don’t think it’s viable for the long term. When I thought about my future, lacrosse wasn’t a part of it. But it was an important part of my life and my experience now. The team, the friends, the camaraderie – it was all important to me. And I’ll miss those things the most.
Walking away from the reception hall, I make my way back through the administrative and coaches offices to the door that leads me into the locker room. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before opening the door and stepping inside.
When the door bangs shut behind me, the music that had been playing is cut off and I come around the corner to find the entire team assembled, everybody sitting in front of their lockers, their expressions grim. Spencer stands up and looks around at the team as if giving everybody one last chance to change their minds. Nobody does. The team seems to be in complete unison.
I stand in the middle of the room. I’m relaxed and confident. And best of all, I realize I’m okay with whatever happens. Part of the team or not, I’m going to be okay. I enjoy sports and all it brings me, but I don’t need it. At that moment, Wes’ words ring through my mind and I realize that being an athlete doesn’t define me any more than being gay does. I’m just me and people can either accept it or not.
“Dylan, you’ve been our teammate, our friend, and our brother for the last few years now,” Spencer starts. “What went down today shocked the shit out of everybody.”
I nod, not expecting anything less. And to be fair, coming out like that shocked the shit out of me too.
“Now obviously, not everybody is – okay with it,” Spencer says, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “We’ve spoken with both Trevor and Cody about it and heard what they had to say. We took that into consideration when we talked about it amongst ourselves.”
“That’s fair,” I tell them. “They’re a part of the team too and their voices should be heard.”
“It helped us make some decisions,” he goes on and nods to Aaron.
I watch as Aaron disappears around the corner and comes back with what is obviously one of our lacrosse sticks hidden beneath a sheet and hands it to Spencer. He looks at me directly, holding the sheet covered stick up and then with the flourish of a stage magician, whips it off and smiles at me.
At first, I don’t know what it is I’m looking at other than a lacrosse stick that’s uglier than hell. The handle of the stick, from the butt to the cradle is wrapped in different colored tapes. I look from it to Spencer and flash him a crooked grin.
“It’s – interesting?” I manage to utter.
“Dude, it’s supposed to be a rainbow,” he says like it should be completely obvious to me. “You know, the whole pride flag thing?”
“We’re going to have all of our sticks professionally painted with the pride flag,” Aaron says. “And we’ll play with them for the rest of the season. It’s our way of showing solidarity with you.”
As the significance of the gesture and their words hit me, I feel the air driven from my lungs and my legs turn to jelly. I manage to keep my feet and take the stick that Spencer is holding out for me.
“As a team, we’ve decided that you are our friend and when one stands against you, they stand against us all. We love you as a teammate and a brother,” Spencer announces. “We’ve decided that it’s time we take a stand on the right side of things. As a team, we’ve decided that we will stand for inclusion and tolerance – and that we will not tolerate those who spread hate and division.”
The meaning of his words sink in and I glance over at Trevor and Cody’s locker to see that they’re both cleaned out. And the nameplates that are hung over their lockers are also gone. I look back at Spencer and he nods, his smile widening.
“They wouldn’t get on board with us and where we want to go as a unit, so we also voted to remove them from the team,” he confirms.
My heart swells. I’ve never felt such gratitude in my life and at that moment, I’m speechless. I look around that locker room, look at each of my brothers in the eye and have to hold back the tears when I see nothing but love and acceptance from each and every one of them. I look down at the stick in my hands, overwhelmed by emotion.
“I don’t really know what else to say but thank you,” I say, my voice as soft as a whisper. “From the bottom of my heart. Thank you, guys. I don’t think you quite understand what this means to me.”
“It means we’re not going to have to compete with you for that hot freshman ass anymore, thank God,” Aaron yells and the room erupts into laughter.
And just like that, the music is turned back on as laughter and good vibes fill the room. Everybody on the team makes the time to come over to give me a hug and say a few words of encouragement to me.
We spend the rest of the afternoon together, drinking, hanging out, and it feels like nothing has changed. You’d never know I just came out to them. Oh, the guys make a few tasteless jokes – they wouldn’t be them if they didn’t. But I know it’s all just good natured fun and is par for the course with these guys.
As I look around the room and see everybody enjoying our little impromptu party, I can honestly say I’ve never felt closer to a group of people in my entire life and there aren’t enough words to describe the depth of my relief and my gratitude.
Chapter Eighteen
Dylan
“I’m proud of you, you know,” he says.
I look across the table at him and smile. “I don’t think accepting who I am is anything worth being proud of. Happy for me maybe –”
“Don’t diminish this,” he says, his expression serious. “What you did with your team and your friends – it takes courage. It takes strength. Not everybody has those qualities.”
I take his hand, gently kiss his knuckles, and smile. “Well, not everybody has you behind them kicking their ass the whole way.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I did no such thing,” he says. “That was more – gentle guidance.”
I laugh and lean back in my chair. It’s been a couple of weeks since I came out to the team and frankly, life has seemed pretty fucking surreal since then. Everywhere I go on campus, I have people – many I don’t know – thanking me for my courage and for what I’m doing to change the culture on campus.
Thanks to Wes and his friends, I’ve become the de facto face for this new movement toward inclusivity and tolerance. With his guidance, I’ve done interviews with various news outlets – the story of a D-I athlete coming out is apparently newsworthy and inspirational, so they say.
So far, the school has been slow to react and nobody in the administration has yet commented. No doubt they’re getting a lot of heat and pressure from their high-powered, heavily conservative alumni who are actively resisting change. People like my father who refuse to be inclusive or tolerant. Not to mention there are still plenty of people like Trevor and Cody on campus – not everybody is feeling the kumbaya vibe.
“Yeah well, you and the gang are doing the real heavy lifting,” I tell him. “And I’m proud of you. You guys are all doing some great things for people and making this a safe campus for everybody.”
His smile is small and kind of sad. “It’d be nice if the school got on board with us, you know?” he says. “They’re dragging their feet on a half a dozen issues and projects we’ve discussed with them.”
I sigh and nod. “Yeah, they’re going to try to stonewall you at every turn,” I say. “Most of them have jobs that depend on people like my father.”
He purses his lips. “It’s going to be an uphill fight, that’s for sure,” he says. “But a fight worth taking on.”
I nod. “I agree.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes in the crisp autumn air. I still sometimes have trouble believing this is all real and happening. The way my entire life has been turned upside down, the way it’s been blown apart and then reconstructed – it’s mind boggling.
But I know the biggest hurdle I have to clear is still coming. It’s something I’ve been dreading and has been like a thousand pound weight on my shoulders. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, doing my best to keep it from dragging me down. Wes takes my hand again and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“It’s going to be okay, you know,” he says as if reading my mind.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“I promise you it will be,” he presses. “No matter what, you’ve got me, your team, and all your friends behind you. No matter what happens, we’ll help you get through this.”
I give him a smile that probably looks about as fake as it feels. My heart is stuttering, my gut churning, and my mind is spinning out of control right now. I appreciate all of the support I’m getting but it doesn’t make the burden of what I now go have to do any easier.
All I can hear in my mind right now is my father’s voice giving me the lecture he often gave me when I was a kid. Back then, he reminded me that there are always consequences and reactions for our actions and that I need to bear that in mind before I say or do anything. He said it’s even more magnified when you come from a family that’s always in the spotlight like ours. He reminded me that people always parse everything we say and everything we do – and to always keep that in the back of my mind.
Of course, back then I didn’t realize it wasn’t just fatherly advice. It was his way of instilling in me a deeply ingrained belief to always think of the family. To protect our brand. It’s obvious now of course, but it was his way of telling me that the things I do reflect back on our family and that I need to make sure to never, ever embarrass the family or damage our brand.
As I think about it now, I see it for what it is – a cynical and selfish desire to put the family name, legacy, and brand above ourselves. He made sure we knew we were beholden to the family – to him – for everything and should we do something to embarrass him, there would be consequences and reactions.
After coming out to my team and feeling so loved and supported, I allowed myself to get swept up in the emotion of it all. I didn’t stop and think about our family legacy or our brand as I gave interviews or put my face on the movement on campus. I simply went along with it, intent on doing the right thing and making a real difference in and for the gay community.
Those good feelings came to a crashing halt when I got a text message from my dad a few days ago. All he said was I needed to come home because we needed to have a talk. I must have read that message a million times and it never lost its punch.
Every time I read it or even thought about it, I had a powerful physical reaction. I realized that by doing what I’d done, I’d embarrassed him. In my father’s view, I’d damaged the family name and brand. The fact that I’m gay made him lose credibility in the eyes of his peers and I know he’s going to be enraged because of that.
