So many times I'd wished to wake up without a hangover, more times than I could count. Never, in all my years, had I woke up wishing I'd had one, yet, there I was, upset because I wasn't somehow incapacitated. I felt
great
, physically anyway, but mentally I was undercooked scrambled eggs—
worthless
. I got out of bed and tried not to think about
anything
.
It was nearly impossible as the events of the night before replayed like a bad montage video.
I'm not a fag, I just like a tight ass
. I could hear the cocky humor in his voice, as if he were stating something so obvious. I tried to think of scenarios in which I misheard or misunderstood. I saw this happen all the time in movies, when someone hears part of a conversation and overreacts, causing unnecessary drama. Even if I misheard parts of their conversation, I know for sure I didn't mis hear the comment that cut the deepest.
I really thought he liked me and I felt like such a fool for being taken for a ride. I'd crawled into bed with him when I hated him, I hadn't given him one reason to respect me as a person, so none of it should've been a surprise.
I needed a morning of pampering so I decided to do just that. I took a bath instead of a shower and used every product I owned while blasting music the whole time. I wasn't going to think about Shane, the fact he was nothing but an asshole, along with his friends.
There was also that lingering insecurity; I wasn't enough of a man. I was too much of all of the things he didn't like. Story of my life—too masculine for guys who wanted someone they could coddle and take care of, and too feminine for guys like Shane, who clearly wanted a deeper shade of blue.
I took a second to look myself over; I was lounging in a clawfoot tub, covered in bubbles. As upset as I was, I couldn't help but laugh at my current situation. I was soaking in a luxurious bubble bath.
Way too fem.
But also, I was about to get dressed and take a walk down memory lane and into my past life baseball superstar and alter ego: Donny Allerton.
Way too masculine.
It was a literal representation of my life, my struggles.
I wondered if I should pick one or the other—either be the guy who gets bi-weekly haircuts, monthly waxes, owns every beauty and body product created, and loves a good bubble bath...or butch up, be a
man's man
, spend all of my free time at sports bars, smoke cigars, wear dirty clothes, and go months between haircuts...
eww
! It was those exact thoughts that made me leave baseball in the first place. The fact I felt pressured to conform to one demand.
I resolved to do what I needed, which was space away from the DAKS so I could continue to be happy with myself without feeling undesired.
I had two hours before I'd meet AARP for my special guest appearance, which I was nervous about. They were making me out to be someone special, but after last night, I wasn't feeling anywhere close. Since I didn't have anything else to do, I took my time getting ready. I had no one to belittle me for spending ninety minutes getting dressed and ready for someone else's family reunion. I was going to enjoy it by taking all the fucking time I wanted. I gently splashed water over my knees and smiled. If DONNAS were here, they'd be calling me the Bath Bitch.
As I laid in the tub, I allowed my mind to wander to Kels, Thomas' grandson. Maybe he'd be worth getting to know. There's no way he'd have more baggage than Shane. The way I looked at it, he'd likely be an upgrade.
I sighed as I skimmed my fingers across the top of the water. As much as I wanted to be, I knew I wasn't ready to move on from Shane. I didn't want to be with Shane, but I also wasn't ready to jump into something else. That didn't stop me from secretly hoping I'd find someone who distracted me enough to help me walk away, though. I might not have been ready to move on, but I desperately wanted to show up to the next game with some eye candy on my arm and shove it into Shane's face. That's where Kels could come in, or maybe, I'd go back to Rafen's and try my luck again.
*** *** *** ***
Jack's house was barely on the outskirts of town. The closer I got to his house, the further apart neighbors became. I wouldn't say he lived in the country, but the nicer homes
definitely
had privacy and lots of property. His house wasn't hard to find, not with the thirty cars parked outside.
I sat in my car and thought of a million reasons why I should
drive away
. What was I doing at someone else's family reunion. Not just one family, but four! This was their tradition to get together once a year and play baseball, who was I to join? I meet a man during a regrettable morning, run into him at a park and meet his friends, spent a few afternoons with them, then took them shopping for a new look. What was I, queer guy for the old guys? And that means I automatic get a invitation to the unveiling?
I didn't want to get started on the potential disaster that was about to be my claim to fame. The whole thing was a
very bad
idea. I was a nobody, literally. If I hadn't been in such a terrible mood from the night before, then I might've manage to walk in and have a good time, but I was the definition of a sour puss.
I looked at myself in the mirror and cringed. Maybe I could plead temporary insanity? It was the only reason I could come up with to explain why I looked like a fool. I was usually poised and polished, but the DAKS had me feeling so insecure. Plus, I was stepping into a group of people who loved baseball and knew I had played once upon a time. I hadn't felt this much pressure to conform in years, so yeah, I guess I decided to
man up
for or something?
Frustrated with myself, I hit my palm against my forehead with quick repetition. For some unknown reason, I thought it would be a good idea to wear my practice shirt from college; a white baseball shirt with orange sleeves and black lettering that said Allerton and the number eleven on the back. Why did I still have that shirt, and why did I think it was a good idea to wear it? I looked like a washed up PE teacher whos dignity lay in old pipe dreams.
'Look at me
!
I played two years of college ball and now I need everyone to know!'
I adjusted my ball cap in the rearview mirror. I knew I couldn't stay in the car forever. With a breath of faux confidence, I forced myself out of the car and walked to the front door before taking another deep breath to gather myself, and knocked. The door immediately cracked opened, just enough to see Jack peek through the crack, followed by Mickey, and then Thomas.
"
You're here
!" They quietly yelled, though not quite in union. They looked around and awkwardly ushered me inside while shielding me from—? Fuck if I knew! I felt like a bag of cocaine being smuggled across the Colombian border for Christmas.
"We've been holding off the masses for an hour now, but we can't wait any longer. They're demanding information. We have to explain the reason we look good isn't because we're cheating and also, they're curious why we're so confident about winning today."
David glared at Jack, "They wouldn't be suspecting
anything
if you hadn't bet two hundred dollars that we'd win!"
"You bet two hundred dollars?" I stared at him in disbelief,
No fucking pressure
," I mumbled.
Mickey grabbed my shoulders and pushed me into a crouching position. They whispered amongst themselves and acted like we were on a black ops special mission and I was the thing they were trying to extract.
Saving Private Donovan.
"Stay down!" he whisper shouted. "We need to get you to the living room unnoticed." His voice maybe have been quiet but his wild hand gestures were almost deafening.