More Than a Tight End

I grimaced. "I'm not sure how to categorize this one. It has nothing to do with my scholarship, and no, I don't have an acceptance letter or a formal scholarship offer. That's still way off."

I rushed my words, wanting to get it all out before anyone interrupted.

"I'm just going to come out and say it. I'm gay, and while I'd rather have your blessings, if you're not good with it, it's not like I can become un-gay."

The silence that followed my announcement was deafening.

"Whoa," Ryan finally said, slowly digesting the news. "What about Madison? The other girls? You've been into girls for years."

"It was okay, but, let's just say there were no fireworks with Madison, just like with every other girl," I sighed heavily. "We broke up after Homecoming. I never mentioned it because it didn't seem to be a big deal. I only figured out this weekend why I never cared that much. I met someone and, well, everything became clear to me. Really, really clear. I guess, technically, I'm bi, but more gay than straight."

Dad was uncharacteristically quiet. His voice was loud, and he was used to yelling across his noisy restaurant kitchen. "Well, that explains the posters in your room. Most guys don't have those after they turn twelve and figure out girls exist."

I felt the heat rise in my face. It was the second time in a day I blushed, not a good record for an eighteen-year-old athlete. Yeah, maybe my posters -- especially the one of Darius over my bed, were a bit off. I always told myself it was a football thing. Maybe that was why I never invited my friends up to my room.

My neck and shoulders started to hurt, and I realized I was tense, waiting to learn if I still had a family.

"I guess this adjusts my grandmotherly expectations. The way you went though girls, I figured I'd be a grandmother by the time you turned 20," she said half-jokingly, her smile a little sad.

She was sitting next to me, so I gave her a big hug. "I can still have kids, just not the natural way, and it can't exactly happen by accident. When I'm ready I can adopt or get a surrogate."

Hell, even a straight guy knows that.

"Should we be expecting you to be bringing home boyfriends?" Mom asked.

A lump formed in my throat. I really wanted to. I've always been about living honestly, and burying this newly discovered part of me felt wrong. "The guy I met, he's in the closet and I don't want to out him by outing myself. I'm not ready to come out to anyone, except to you. There's too much homophobia out there, and there's guys at school who wouldn't be okay with it," I shook my head, frowning. "I just thought you deserved to know."

The family meeting ended with a lot of hugs -- a little awkward from my dad, who was clearly still processing the unexpected news.

Later that night my twin sister, Jordyn, knocked on the door, then walked in without waiting for an answer as she always did. I was at my desk working on the paper due the next day, and she sat on my bed, hitting the mattress hard enough to bounce.

"So, I have a fabulous gay big brother," she said brightly. Yeah, I was ten minutes older than her, but with two very overprotective brothers, she was still very innocent for her age. Our younger brother was just over a year younger than us, and just as big as I was.

I rolled my eyes. "Not fabulous. I'm not that kind of gay." The image of dressing up in sparkles and going out for glee club made me cringe.

"Then what kind of gay are you?"

It was a good question. I'd be doing some less-than-wholesome Google searches -- as soon as the rest of my family was asleep.

I grunted."Not the kind that's girly, or effeminate in any way. I'm still the guy I was before, just, I like guys, not girls."

"So, a wolf, then."

"How the hell do you know these things?" I'd heard a few descriptive terms for gay guys; bear, twink, fairy and leather, and a lot of locker room insults, but I had no idea what a "wolf" even meant in the gay community.

She shrugged. "A friend of mine, her brother calls himself a twink, and he's really into talking about it and the guys he likes. Should I introduce you?"

I was horrified. "No! What part of me wanting to stay in the closet didn't you understand?"

"Well, if you ever...," Jordyn began.

"NO! Now, I have homework to finish. Please, never, ever talk to me about this particular subject, not at least until you're thirty."

She sauntered out the door, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"And no telling your friends, any of them!" I shouted after her.

Now completely derailed from my assignment -- which was more than three-quarters done, I only needed to finish the conclusion -- I started googling the terms I'd heard.

And concluded the whole gay stereotypes thing was just that, gay stereotypes. I decided I was still just a jock who happened to like guys, when it came down to it.

That night I dreamed of Darius, and woke up to a mess in my boxers.