Divisions (Dev and Lee) (30 page)

I frown, but Lee smiles. “What if I’d won a championship with the Dragons?”

“I only wanted a graduation, not miracles.” Brenly smiles over his Starbucks cup. “Now, if you win a championship with Yerba…it is a shame that you two can’t be on the same team somehow.”

Lee doesn’t say anything, so I speak up. “Lee’s talking to the Firebirds about a community outreach job.”

“Just a temporary thing,” he says. “I’m not sure they even know what they want to do.”

“But it’d be cool to work for the Firebirds, right?”

“If it’s the right kind of work…maybe. I don’t know that this is the right place for it, but…you know, let’s just open presents.”

I can’t quite let it go. I mean, I feel like he just tossed aside one of my Christmas presents. “Is there some reason you don’t want to work for the Firebirds?”

“No,” he says, “there’s a reason I might not want to do that work for the Firebirds, but like I said, I don’t want to get into it.”

I start to say something, but he gives me a look, and I think, well, it’s Christmas. So I give him the jersey I bought for him. It’s an official away jersey of mine, but a limited edition because I know he already has the home version. I managed to get one tailored to fit him better than the standard sizes do.

He loves it, puts it on right away and lets it drape over his slender frame, and then pushes me to open his presents to me. They’re all very sweet and thoughtful, from the Forester turf to the protective case for my phone. “I hope I won’t need this,” I say as I fit it on and watch him unwrap my last gift to him.

“Wow,” he says, and drops the iPhone box to hug me. “That’s amazing!” He even kisses me, there in front of his father, and I’m too startled to look for his father’s reaction. When I do look around, Brenly’s composed and smiling.

He got Lee a couple gift cards, to Amazon and, in a totally unplanned coincidence, to iTunes, as well as a travel scarf made by Neutra-Scent (“More subtle than the tissues, and I know you’ll be traveling again soon”), and then a small, very light box that Lee hefts with a frown before opening.

“Oh,” he says, and reaches in to pull out a small plush dragon with a leather jacket on. It’s the Hilltown Dragons mascot, tag dangling from one horn.

“I know it’s not your old one,” his father says, “but as kind of a memento of your time there.”

“I’ll keep him with the old one,” Lee says, “when I get it back.” He holds the dragon up for me. “I slept with this guy for three years, back in middle school.”

“When I was trying to get you interested in football, before I succeeded.”

“You got me interested in male dragon mascots.”

“You mean if I’d gotten you a female dragon, you’d have been straight?”

Lee raises an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he says, “that’s exactly how that works.”

Brenly just smiles, and looks down again at the tabletop pool game Lee got for him. I grin to myself, watching him and his father spar. It’s not like my family Christmas exactly, but it’s not as far off as I might have thought.

Which reminds me to call home. I excuse myself and let Lee and his father talk. In the bedroom, I call home. “We miss you,” is the first thing Mom says when she picks up the phone.

“I miss you guys too.” I say Merry Christmas to her and Dad, and tell them I’m here with Lee and his father. Dad doesn’t say much to that, just to pass his holiday wishes along, but Mom says she’s glad I’m not alone. She asks how they are, and says to wish them a Merry Christmas. “I hope I can have Christmas with both of you next year,” I say, though that would likely mean we’re out of the playoffs. “Hey, did you hear anything from Auntie Za?”

Mom draws in a breath. “Oh, goodness. She said that the people in Moskva didn’t want to celebrate Christmas because it was a domestic family thing and might be upsetting to the poor wives, and that nobody had actually asked the wives, and when she did that, everyone said they wanted to have a Christmas. So they are having spiced rum and snow and it sounds like she is doing wonderful things there. I cannot imagine leaving everyone behind, but she seems to be enjoying it.” Then she puts a paw over the phone, her voice getting faint, but I can make out, “Your brother,” and “Yes, you will,” and “No, just him.” Then she comes back on and says, brightly, “Oh, Gregory wants to say Merry Christmas to you.” Before I can say anything, my brother’s voice is on the line.

“Hey, Dev,” he says. “Merry Christmas.” It’s flat and wholly unenthusiastic.

“Merry Christmas.” I try to be a bit more positive. “How’s the family?”

“Oh, Alexei is enjoying his first Christmas. You know kids. Marta’s fine.”

I let the pause go on for a little before I say, “How’s the practice?”

“Still the same. They’re going to put me on this fucking pro bono because I don’t have anything else to do.” He doesn’t ask how the team is doing. Of course, why does he need to? He can just open ESPN.com. I don’t want to just say good-bye, though, so I wait, and finally he says, “Saw you on TV.”

“When?” Please, please not in the Ultimate Fit commercial…

“After the Yerba game. That was a tough one.”

“Tougher to play than to watch.”

“That’s an obvious thing to say.” At least he doesn’t sound drunk. “Of course it’s harder to play than to watch. Why would you feel the need to point that out?”

“Because I’m not a smart lawyer.” I snap it out without thinking, and then remember that it’s Christmas. But he started it.

“No. But I’m not a tough football player. So I guess that’s sort of even.”

“The practice’ll pick up,” I say, trying to be encouraging. “How’s Marta’s work?”

“I don’t need her to work.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“She works because she wants to. And it’s just from home, part-time.”

I rub my forehead. “If it makes her happy, though…”

“It does. It makes her happy, and that’s why she does it. We don’t need the money.”

“I didn’t say you did.” I sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was going to be arguing before a jury.”

“Don’t try to be a lawyer. Just be a football player. You’re apparently good at that.”

At which point I hear Mom in the background, and then on the phone. “Hi, Devlin, we’re just about to sit down for breakfast. We love you and we miss you.”

My dad echoes that in the background. “Love you guys, Mom. Merry Christmas.”

I just sit on the bed for a bit. In the living room, Lee and his father are talking to someone on the phone, it sounds like. Lee laughs and makes a comment that doesn’t really register with me. How up-and-down things are, that he’s the one laughing with his family, and I’m the one feeling black after hanging up with mine.

I resented Gregory’s success when I was struggling on the Dragons, but now that I’m the successful one, it feels different. I don’t want to rub it in the way he did, but I can’t just sit back and take it when he jibes at me.

And the problem is that he’s better at jibing than I am. Like Lee, he’s good with words, with taking them in whatever way he wishes, with making them mean whatever he likes. Unlike Lee, though, I can’t just take him into the other room and fuck him when I want to make up. And unlike Lee, his words aren’t tempered with or founded on love.

I sigh and walk out to the living room. “Oh,” Lee says, “Dev just got back. Want to say Merry Christmas?” He wraps his paw around the small extended mike on his phone. “It’s Aunt Carolyn.”

“Oh, sure.” I take the phone and say hello to Carolyn. She asks how the team is doing, because of course she doesn’t follow football. “We’re doing good. Probably going to the playoffs.”

“Definitely,” Lee says with a grin.

Carolyn bubbles in a way that reminds me of Auntie Za. “That’s good! Maybe you guys will get a parade like we had here a few years ago.”

“Maybe.” I smile at the thought, and then my mind turns to gay pride parades. I look at Lee and wonder if he’ll try to get me to march in one of those. “You’ll have to come if we do.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. You take care of my favorite nephew now, you hear?”

“How many nephews do you have?”

She laughs. “More than one. But don’t tell any of the others I said that. So can I tell my friends on Cottage Hill anything?”

“About what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Life of a gay football player? When I’m at the salon, I like to have things to talk about.”

I scratch my ear. “Ask them if they know any gay players on the Port City team. I’d like to know if …”

“If you’re not the only one? Done. I’ll find out for you.”

The echoes of her laughter remain in my ear as I hang up the phone and give it back to Lee. How is it that Lee’s aunt is more supportive than my whole family? Well, that’s not fair. Mom was pretty good, and Dad is coming around. So really, it’s just my brother.

How would Lee deal with a brother if he had one? I try to imagine that and fail. He’s one of a kind, my fox.

“When are we supposed to be over at Gerrard’s?” he asks.

I check the clock. “Not until after noon. We can leave here in about half an hour.”

“Cool, I have time to set this up.” He starts playing with his new phone, reading instructions on how to switch his service.

Brenly shifts, his tail swinging free behind him. “I don’t have to go.”

“Father.” Lee leans forward, paws on his knees. “It’s fine. We already asked. Well, Dev asked.”

“Gerrard said you’re welcome to come. There’ll be—I guess some other family will be there too?” I think he said something about Angela’s family, but I don’t remember exactly.

“I just don’t want to be the oldest there by a decade.”

“Gerrard’s like thirty-three,” I say.

Lee glares at me, and I fold my ears back. “Um, and Fisher is around thirty-five?”

Brenly smiles with a little twist to his muzzle. “I’m forty-seven,” he says. “So keep going.”

“Well. It’s Christmas,” I say. “Do you want to spend it alone in a hotel room or with your son and some friends?”

Lee takes my paw and joins me in looking at his dad. Brenly looks at both of us and smiles. “Can I at least drive separately so I can leave if I want to?”

“Nope,” Lee says. “Gerrard has a big house. You can find a place to hide if you need to. We all have cell phones.”

“Did you get yours set up yet?” I ask him, at the same time as his father asks how Lee knows about Gerrard’s house.

“I was there with Dev. I told you about it.” He lets go of my paw and looks down at his phone. “Still working on it.”

Brenly frowns, and then says, “Oh, that was Marvell’s house? You said he was there, but I didn’t know whose house it was. I thought it was your friend the stallion.” He looks my way.

I laugh. “I’ve never been to Charm’s house. I think I’d be horrified.”

“Mirrors on the ceiling?” Lee says. “Pink champagne?”

“On ice, yeah. And probably discarded panties and bras all over.” I shake my head at Brenly’s amused smile. “Okay, probably not that bad. But Charm is single, and I don’t think he spends much time at his place when he’s not bringing girls back.”

“All right.” Brenly puts his paws up. “I admit I’m curious to see what a football player’s house looks like.”

“Father,” Lee says, looking up from his phone to stare around him pointedly.

“This is an apartment.” His father gets up, tail swinging behind him. “Are you done playing with your phone yet?”

“Not quite. Give me a few minutes.”

So Brenly and I talk football for a bit while Lee finishes transferring his service to the new phone. I play with different places to put the piece of turf from Forester’s field while I’m talking to Brenly. Mostly he wants to know about how Strike is changing the dynamic of the team, and I’m not quite sure how to answer that. I talk about how talented he is and how dedicated, and I mention the beer commercial, which I guess Lee didn’t tell him about.

“So he’s into equality?”

“Sort of. As long as it pays.” I see Lee’s ears flick, but he doesn’t say anything. “I mean, he’s kind of going out of his way to be friendly with me, but only really around this commercial.”

“Do you get a preview of what he’s going to be dyed as before the game?”

“No, he just shows up.” I grin. “When he’s done meditating.”

“It’s got to wear on the team.”

“It did. Until that first touchdown run. Then it was like we were all back in high school watching him on TV. We were jumping up and down and it was crazy.” I grin. “If he can do that just once a game, I mean…wow.”

“Sounds like he was really a problem in Port City.”

“When the team’s not winning,” Lee says without looking up from his phone, “he’s a problem. When the team’s winning, everything’s okay.”

“I don’t know if it’s all okay.” I think about the way the other wideouts reacted, especially, and the arguments on the plane. “But it’s easier to overlook things.”

“That applies to a lot of things.” Lee puts down his old phone. “Let me try calling you,” he says to me, and calls up the touchpad on his phone’s screen and dials.

The iPhone has an extendable mic for long-muzzled talkers, that slides out rather than unfolding on a hinge. It looks pretty sleek and kind of cool and I admit to being a little jealous of it. I thought he’d enjoy the cool new gadget, which I haven’t gotten for myself because of my penchant for throwing phones across a room. I’d rather do that with a $200 phone than a $600 phone, to be honest. But I wanted Lee to have the best phone he could.

And he seems to be enjoying it. He keeps setting it up as I’m driving us over to Gerrard’s. “Look, I can play games on this,” he says from the back seat he insisted on taking. He’s not playing with my tail, except to nudge it with his foot from time to time.

I glance back. He took off my jersey, thinking it’d be tacky to wear my jersey to a gathering of my teammates. At least, he said ‘tacky.’ But he looks really good in his simple yellow collared shirt, open to show his chest ruff. “Do they have football?” If they did, I might have to get one.

“Um, no. I don’t think so.” He plays around a little more.

Brenly watches the scenery go by from the front, his window half-open. “Lots of new development out here.”

“A lot of people come down for the climate.”