Hidden Desires

Chapter Twenty-One

Levi

As if my life couldn't get any fucking worse, it did. My hands shook as I saw a picture hanging on every locker in the locker room. It was a picture someone took of me and Emory together, kissing.

It was in the club, and you could easily make out who it was. It wasn't blurry, no, that shit was fucking high definition. It was plastered and taped to every locker with the word 'faggot' in black sharpie.

I wasn't even angry that the photos were leaked or angry that someone obviously used this to try and start a problem with me. I couldn't even fucking care that I was forced to admit who I was and who I liked.

It was that word. That degrading, humiliating word had my knuckles turning white as I ripped the photo off my locker.

I knew who it was. Probably Kai or Turner. If this had popped up when I first started with Emory, then I would have been mortified, but now I couldn't give less of a fuck.

My brain was wired differently, running on no sleep or good food, I was exhausted and too strung out. Thankfully, I could bash someone's head in to release my frustrations and anger. Turner and Kai were laughing as they pointed to me as I walked to where everyone was sitting.

Half of my teammates looked at me differently with somewhat of a gross look, while others looked annoyed that this shit was happening again.

My fist came into contact with Kai first, hard and it knocked him out to the ground. I reached for Turner's collar and shoved him against the lockers.

"What's up cock-sucker?" He asked, giving me a taunting look.

"Are you jealous, Turner?" I asked, cocking my head. "It's funny, actually that you were in that club,"

I said, giving him another shove so that his head hit the back of the locker.

"My boyfriend actually owns the club and I'm curious as to what you were doing there....and who you were doing,"

I whispered in his ear. I felt him stiffen up beneath my touch.

"I mean, you say the word faggot so much that it's fucking crazy. Do you need me to find you a guy to fuck your brains out? Because the way you're coming off.... seems like you're horny and not lucking out with the ladies."

His eyes went wide, and his face set hard as his nose flared. He tried to shove me off, but I felt more in my element than ever before. I tightened my hands on his collar.

"Fuck you, Haxley." He spat.

"No, thank you. You're not my type. I don't like men with small dicks. No wonder you always change when no one's looking. Trust me some men don't care about the size."

I told him giving him a serious look then loosened my hands and he fixed his shirt as he glared at me.

"If I ever hear you say that word again, I will knock your head to the fucking ground. Fucking try me, Turner, you know I will."

I spun around to see not only my teammates there but Coach Grand as well.

"Anyone else care about my sex life?" I asked.

"No, who fucking cares."

"No, not really."

"I would've never guessed, Haxley."

"Who cares who he's fucking as long as he plays in the field with us?"

"That's what I fucking thought," I said, and went back to my locker.