Thicker Than Paper

Honor

It's a strangely pleasing feeling. One that should feel amazing from the beginning, but one that takes time to recognize as good. At first, it's almost nerve-wracking. Then confusing. Then satisfactory and worthy. After everything, the thought of the paper cranes at home in my trash can make me smile.

~~~

The team was shocked. Except for Gavin, Ethan, and Coach, of course. Everyone gawked and stared. Their mouths open and eyes wider than feels good to be stared at with. 

I sucked on my lips, slowly swerving around other people to get to my cubby to finish getting ready. Ethan smiles at me when I sit down next to him and I give a weak one back. When I look across the room, Gavin gives me a giant smile and two thumbs up. I give him a small one back.

I tie my laces, the room very slowly come back for their shock comas. I don't look up, too scared of what may happen is I do. Instead, I tie my laces as slow as possible, readjust my socks and pant legs. Anything int he world to not look up. I know I have to eventually, I know I do. 

So I look up. As right as I often am, most of the guys sneak not so sneaky glances at me. Especially Van. Van makes me smile though. Glad he's uncomfortable with pride in who I am. 

"What's that for?" He breaks the silence towards me.

"What's it for?"

"Yeah, you know the rainbows on your cheek?" Van points at his cheek as an example. 

"Oh, it's June. International pride month," Van doesn't look satisfied with my answer, "You know, the month to honor the LGBTQ plus community?"

"Oh. But why are you wearing the, uh, rainbow at a game?" Could this guy get any stupider?

"Well, shockingly, I'm still gay even at games. Yeah, lots of times I just forget to be straight when we're at games. But this month, I get to be as gay as I want, it's pride month rule. If you're gay any time of the year, you double that at pride. Isn't that crazy?" 

I stalked out of the locker room and threw so hard during warm-up I got yelled more than once by Coach. 

Why did I wear the bisexual flag on my cheek like a nincompoop? My mind listed all the facts I had read in studies and essays. I wore the bisexual flag because I was. It's my honor. 

We won by a landslide.

~~~

"Phoenix Weather! Phoenix Weather! Can we ask you a few questions, Mr. Weather?" I don't know what to do with all the question questions. All the reporters screaming my name just because I'm wearing a couple temporary tattoos.

Of course, they want to ask me questions. What imbiscal wears tattoos on his cheeks?

I look around and see Coach fighting the crowd to get to me. I rub my sweaty hands on my pants, waiting for him to get to me. To tell me what to do. 

"Phoenix!" Lean closer to Coach to hear him against all the cheering and yelling, "They want to hold a press conference in the locker room in twenty minutes. I've already told all the boys to get their asses dressed and out unless they want to sit in on the conference."

I nod. That means go to the locker room, Phoenix, clean it and yourself up before twenty cameras are aimed at you. I do exactly that, ignoring all the questions and jog into the locker room. Everyones in there chatting, slowly getting ready even though they all know the urgency. 

Everyone looks at me, half of them are glares. I look at the floor, dodging around everyone to my cubby. I know most of them are mad I'm getting the press conference not them. I know most of them think I'm being stupid and not worth a press conference.