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There was no time to rest his head on the inviting pile of oranges that sat on the counter.
“Yeah, well, you know the life of a smoothie maker…live fast, die young, right?” The man laughed. Kip nearly fell over.
“You, uh, you mind if I drink this here?” Scott asked, as if there weren’t tables and chairs right next to him.
“It’s just nice. Doing this.” “Hanging out with someone?” “With you.” Kip was speechless. And Scott looked absolutely tortured. His eyes were pleading with Kip to understand him. To not make him spell it out. “Oh,” is what Kip finally said.
“I can keep a secret,” Kip said, almost a whisper because he wasn’t sure if the driver could hear them. “And I promise I’ll make it good for you.”
Kip had watched Scott being interviewed after the game, and he had been asked, point-blank, what he attributed the turnaround in his game to. He had just smiled shyly. “Guess I just found something that reignited me.”
I’d give anything to see you right now.
Finally the door unlocked and they slipped inside. When the door clicked shut, they stood facing each other for a moment, nervous and grinning. After a ridiculous few seconds, Scott huffed out a laugh and, with a gentle hand on Kip’s face, guided them together.
“I would. Someday I would like to do something to help…queer kids…who play team sports? It’s tough for them, you know?”