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“Thanks, baby,” Simo said.
“I feel pity,” she said around a smile.
“Burn,” Cameron snickered.
Joq held the door open and let her go out first while he watched Simo laughing, rocking from side to side in his chair. Joq rolled his eyes at him and followed her out, the door sucking shut behind them.
“This way,” he said as they left the break room. He took her through the stadium, pointed out the cameras at each point, and she was a good sport about it—waving, giving the finger—and Joq imagined the glee radiating off Simo. It didn’t take much.
As they headed through the second tier, Joq saw the press conference playing on the screens they had up so people getting food wouldn’t miss anything during a game. He stopped. Alison was a few steps ahead before she turned back and came up alongside him.
“I think he’s gonna surprise you all. He’s certainly better than me, got a better head for this sh-… stuff as well…” George was saying, his hands clasped on the table, microphones in his face, a little smile at the almost slip up.
The shot flicked to Finn laughing beside him, holding nothing back, his blue eyes dancing as he looked at George.
The camera panned out to a shot of the two of them. George was hunched forward with his head craning back to meet Finn’s gaze. Joq watched closely as they exchanged a look and a smile that acknowledged they were in this together, a budding camaraderie.
“Yes, about you,” a reporter asked. Joq knew him as one of the guys from the talking heads footy shows. “There’s been a lot of talk about whether or not you’re ready for this. Care to comment?”
“Asshole,” Joq said. “He was born ready.”
“Fan?” Alison asked.
George was answering the question with the prepared response he’d been practicing on Joq since they gave him the job: he understands and appreciates the reservations; he understands this is an honour and a privilege; he loves this team and has no plans to blow this opportunity… blah, blah, bullshit.
“Sort of,” Joq replied. He glanced at her. She was watching the screen. Doing a pretty good job of feigning interest. “George and I started here at the same time. We’re friends.”
“Really?” she glanced at him.
“Really,” he looked back at the screen. “He’s a good guy, he doesn’t deserve to be undermined like this before he’s even started.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Just friends?”
Joq looked at her. She was watching him back.
“I know you’re gay, Aunty Kat said. Sorry, maybe she shouldn’t have… Just, you sound kinda protective of him” she shrugged.
“You signed an NDA too.” Joq heard himself blurt that out and wondered at his sudden burst of defensiveness.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a non-disclosure agreement to know not to be an asshole. Anyway, it’s none of my business.”
The thing was, outside of Joq’s circle of very close friends, his immediate family, George’s sister and parents—albeit reluctantly—he and George were firmly in the closet as a couple. There was speculation about George because of an old rumour, but no one in this world knew about them officially.
He had a disorientating moment as he realised this was the first time someone had asked.
“I’m gay,” he confirmed. “But we’re just friends.”
“Ah, I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Crushing on your straight friends,” she nodded sympathetically.
He looked at her. She was smiling at him like she was happy to follow his lead. He cracked a smile; he could play it off like, yeah, what can you do? But something about the way she was looking at him told him she suspected there was more to it. He trusted her aunt—she’d been his neighbour back in his Brunswick share house days—and Alison gave off the same solid vibe.
