Running with Lions

by Julian Winters

Who invented sex talks with parents, anyway? Sebastian thinks. They should be burned, buried, dug up, and lit on fire again.

He has. Sometimes he daydreams about being the leader who gets the team a trophy. It’d be incredible. But it’s an awesome responsibility too. It’s like floating on the ocean, being weightless and consumed at the same time.

Coach decided to change the system: Sexuality in sports became a nonfactor. Whom you were attracted to off the field didn’t matter. If you could get the ball to the goal without falling, you were in.

“A good heart doesn’t need a reason; take care of people the way you’d want them to take care of you,”

“Because of Coach Patrick,” Sebastian says. “He’s a hard-ass, right? Real piece of work. But he made being on the team about finding yourself first. Winning and being the best guy on the pitch came second.”

Emir walks as though the whole world is pushing on his shoulders. Sebastian gets that. The burden to make your parents proud while still feeling clueless about what you’re doing with your own life is a struggle.

Is that what it’s like having a crush on someone who doesn’t want you back? It steals your light?

Mason’s claim to fame is being a soccer god in Bloomington and a badass. Alcohol camouflages the scars from his youth, but strength isn’t measured by a guy’s ability to drain a six-pack and not cry.

“Everyone needs a story.” He stops, causing Sebastian to groan, before he considers Emir. “What are you? Brainiac? Band geek? Art geek? Goth? You’re definitely not part of the jock crowd.” “I’m not a stereotype.”

When it comes to being anything other than straight, it seems there’s a fine-print clause: a penalty for full disclosure when you belong to the LGBTQ community. Sebastian doesn’t get it. It shouldn’t matter if he falls for a girl or boy. Love is supposed to be a happy, comforting emotion, but it always comes with conflict. And being anything but straight means making these huge declarations to the people closest to you.

Why the hell isn’t working through feelings a class offered to middle school kids? As soon as puberty hits, all of a sudden people find reasons not to like you: weight, height, acne, sexuality, race, parents’ income, whatever. Confidence is earned by how many flaws you can find in someone else.

“I never noticed what people said about me when you were around.” Emir smiles at his knees. “That’s the thing. I spent so much time caring about you, I didn’t know anyone else existed.”

He is so exhausted, trying to fix busted-up relationships while other friendships circle the drain. He’s tired of trying to be this amazing version of a guy that everyone else sees but Sebastian can’t find when he stares in the mirror.

Sebastian doesn’t want to care about anyone’s opinion. It’s his friendship, not theirs. But being a teenager is one good day of being a superhero, followed by a hundred days of being self-conscious about every little damn thing. It’s one big, selfish moment when you don’t give a shit about other people’s opinions, but you still want your friends to love who you are and what you do.

“People dislike other people for the wrong reasons,” Emir says. “Doesn’t mean we should act like them.”

“You’re beautiful.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Guys aren’t—” “Hey,” Emir cuts in. “Guys are beautiful. And girls are handsome. Words aren’t gender-specific.

He’s still figuring out his own definition of love. Shouldn’t you wake up wanting nothing more than your partner’s smile or affectionate eyes or fond voice? For such a sought-after emotion, love sure comes with a lot of answerless questions.

He’s talking about more than just Sebastian, more than Willie and Mason. It’s anyone who gets stamped with a label, who’s predicted to fail because of society’s rules, because of a stereotype.

“I made a change, kid,” says Coach, sighing. “I wasn’t doing enough to make sure my nephew, or anyone, knows this life isn’t defined by who you fall in love with.”

You are not defined by who you love. It’s a slogan for a poster or a T-shirt, but, holy shit, it says so much. Sebastian can see, in vibrant Technicolor, the one thing that’s missing for him: respect. Not acceptance. Because that would mean Sebastian wants people to approve of him. Of his affection for Emir. He’s not searching for that brand of recognition. He wants people to respect him regardless of who he falls for.

Telling his friends about Emir is like coming out. How did it become that heavy? Why do people let things so precious to them turn into dark, unbearable secrets?

Sometimes it’s okay not to be the perfect best friend. Sometimes it’s okay for your friends to take care of you.

Whatever vicious spring has been tightening in his chest finally uncoils. Then his eyes get a little bleary, but he doesn’t wipe away the tears. These are happy ones, so it’s okay. He doesn’t care if crying’s not considered manly. Who writes these stupid definitions of manly, feminine, beautiful, or handsome, anyway?

“I don’t know what it’s like, Hunter, being in love.” “You know it’s not easy to figure out, right? It’s not overnight. And it doesn’t happen just because you’ve been with someone for years. It’s just this feeling. I don’t think love knows how it works.”

“If you’re watching Scooby Doo and think of someone because it’s their favorite cartoon. If you’re allergic to flour but still eat someone’s burnt pancakes. Or if you hate the color green but you wear it because it reminds you of a person’s eyes just before you kiss them—well, it might be love.”

“Bastian, you can do whatever you want, when you want. The only thing in life you have to do is live it.” Her hand covers his, squeezing. “Go to college, chase your dreams of being a pro athlete. Or take some time off, find yourself, and be an ‘adult’ later.” Sebastian blinks hard. “Just because people create rules doesn’t mean those are your rules. I don’t follow those rules; neither does your dad.”

“High school is just like the night sky. It’s beautiful. Some moments, you’re just in awe of it. But it’s dark and endless, which can be scary, too. When the stars fall away, what’s left?” Sebastian shrugs, his vision blurred. “The sun,” she says, giggling. “Darkness goes away, but the sun shows up and you start over again. So let high school happen, and eventually you light up the rest of your life. Burn as bright as you want. The wonderful thing about the sun is, it’s always there. People don’t have to see you to believe you’ll be there.”

Sebastian’s heart kicks like a wild animal. She’s not disappointed or angry. She’s worried. Her son admitting he’s bisexual isn’t the

apocalypse; no, it’s her son being without the person, the boy he loves that saddens her.

Everything about today is exciting. It’s terrifying and so big that they all need a way to escape for just a few minutes. That’s the thing about life: The biggest, most thrilling moments can make you wish they wouldn’t happen at all.

And that’s the thing, life is sometimes just another day, and sometimes it’s moment after moment after moment that only paralyzes you if you let it.

“Winning the championship!” “Well, yes, that.” Sebastian winks at Gio. “Also, it’s about proving ourselves, proving life isn’t only about what you accomplish.” His eyes find Zach, then Willie. “It’s about proving to yourself you can make the best of what you’ve been given.”

“We decide our futures. No one can stop us, especially not some pathetic Spartans. “We don’t need to beat any team, ’cause we beat ourselves. ’Cause we’re better than all of them.”

Whatever Emir’s about to say, he’s too flustered, so he flips Sebastian off as he treks back into position. And, okay. Sebastian will take that. These days “I hate you” sounds a lot like “I love you” coming from Emir.

The future is only grim because people see it that way. It’s unpredictable. Life is a summer storm of insecure thoughts. There’s an umbrella of precautions to prevent insecurity, but it doesn’t always keep the rain out of your face. Besides, over the summer, Sebastian’s learned that he doesn’t mind the rain. Good things happen in the rain. It’s great for scrimmages and sleeping in and accidental kisses with the one person you think hates you most.