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The dumb look on my face probably didn’t help my situation any. I’ve got three sets of eyes locked onto me like snipers. Sheena’s especially. Gale asks me who I am, but before I can even speak, Sheena introduces me as the ‘laughing jackass’. When Len asks if I know why Glover ran off in a hurry, my smile quickly dissipates. Now I feel like a convicted criminal on trial, and I can’t possibly imagine how they must’ve felt up there. Sure this isn’t the same degree of wrongdoing, but man, does it suck. I rub my temples in exasperation, and for a good reason: they probably think I’m a homophobic asshole. Dammit, this is going no where. I sit up, leaning forward, and raise my hands up and confess.
“Look, if you guys took it the wrong way, I apologize. I assumed Glover knew that you were a guy at first glance, so it pegged me as odd as to why you two were sitting real close to one another.” I adjust my tie a bit and clear my throat. “Glover’s straight. I don’t question people’s life choices, so if you choose to play for the other side, then I won’t hold it against you.” I feel my cheeks burning up as I say this. “Sorry, if I offended you, Gale.” I think now’s a good time to stop talking. I’m serious when I say I don’t question the way people live their lives, so when I genuinely have offended someone, sure as hell, I’ll step up to the plate and deliver an apology. Having embarrassed myself enough for one day, I fixate my stare at the opposite side of the gym… but not before taking another quick glance at Sheena again. Curse my machismo-driven antics.
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I flush my upchucked breakfast down the toilet. I feel relieved, but I’m in a bit of a cold sweat, and upon looking at myself in the mirror, I look like I’ve seen a ghost. I feel almost too ashamed to go back to the bleachers. What happened while I was gone? Is the gang gonna look at me the same after overreacting like that? Okay, deep breaths, let’s not think this over too much. I wash my face and dry off with some paper towels. Might as well head back to the gym. I drink a bit of water, but I take my time walking back to the bleachers. What do you even say at that point? ‘Sorry, I don’t swing that way? We can still be friends?’ So much was running through my mind that I didn’t even notice I was back at the bleachers, sat down, in the same spot. Man, is this next hour going to be awkward.
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