Page 114 of Hiding in the Outfield

“Wait. You two are Jake and Jack?” Shane exclaims. “What the fuck is wrong with your parents?”

The brothers share a look, a silent conversation I can practically hear. Where do we start? It reminds me so much of Pao Pao and me that it heals a little of the heartache from earlier. Yeah, these two are definitely going to be all right.

Jake looks at me. “Nice to meet you, Frankie.” He holds out his hand. “I, um, see what my brother sees in you.”

I cock my head. “You do, do you?”

“Yes, um…you’re very…um…”

“Brooo,” Shane says. “This is painful.”

I chuckle and take Jake’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “As long as you’re not a bigot and you promise to be a good brother to Jackie, then nice to meet you too.” I smile sweetly at him. “And if not, then you can get the fuck out of my house.”

His eyes go wide, and he chokes on a laugh. “Um. Not a bigot. Definitely been a douche but working on it.” He gently bumps his shoulder into his brother’s. “Love my little bro. Always.”

Jackson stares hard at the floor with glassy eyes. Poor guys. Lots of big emotions today.

“You have some time to stick around, Jake?” I ask.

He nods, his gaze darting between Jackson and me.

Yeah, these two need more time to settle into this. “Who’s down for a Mario Kart tournament?”

Shane jumps up. “I’m in!” He dashes for the stairs. “I’ll get Paulie.”

“I’ll get it set up,” East says.

I shoot him a smile. “Thanks, babe.”

I turn back to the brothers. God, these two are giants. Jackie’s brother is even taller than he is. “Sound good to you two?”

“I’m down.” Jake bounces his eyebrows. “What do you say, little bro? Want to get your ass handed to you?”

Jackson glares at his brother, then pushes him toward the living area. “There are no loose-wired controllers here, Jake. You can’t short-circuit the game when you’re about to lose, so you better get ready to get your ass kicked.”

A laugh bursts from Jake. “Shit, I forgot I used to do that.”

I cross my arms and lean against the wall, a smile tugging at my lips.

Jackson shoves his shoulder playfully into his brother’s. “You were such a fucking dick. No smacking me across the head to distract me either.”

“No promises. Video games always call for sabotage.”

The two brothers start arguing and wrestling over the “best” spot to play, and I shake my head.

I can’t believe he came out to his family. The bravery it took, knowing the views his family holds…I’m in awe of him. Not a perfect outcome, not what a better world would have given, but seeing those two like this makes me so happy. Maybe now, freed from their parents’ shadow, they can finally build something genuine.

Jackson slowly pushes my bathroom door shut, then drops his head to it with a thunk. He stands there, palm on the wood, shoulders slumped, and I can feel it—the exhaustion. It curls off him like mist and slowly settles over the room like a weighted blanket.

He just got back from dropping Jake off at his car. Jake stayed late—well past midnight. It almost seemed like neither brother wanted to say goodbye, which I take as a good thing. He and Jackson split off for a while to talk after the video game tournament, and then Jake spent some time getting to know me. I think that hit Jackson the hardest, seeing his brother taking an interest in me. I also got the feeling Jake might be just as lonely and troubled as Jackson was when we’d first met.

Jackson’s head still rests against the door, so I go to him. “Come here, loverboy,” I whisper.

I grab his hand and gently lead him to bed. His movements are stiff; his muscles rigid. His cheek keeps flexing in a telltale sign that he’s chewing on it. He’s in his head, and I’m not sure what war he’s waging, but I give him some time to himself while I silently help him out of his shirt and jeans.

I gently guide him to sit on the edge of my bed. He stares over my shoulder, unseeing, while I remove his socks. Washing up seems to have taken the last of any energy he had left. I pull back the covers, and he collapses onto the mattress with a groan.

His gaze drags up to mine. “I have played double-digit innings games,” he murmurs, his words slightly slurred. “Double-headers. Pushed my body to the limit of what it’s physically capable of.” He shakes his head slowly. “But I have never been more tired in my life than today.”