Can't Lose for Winning - 1. Can't Lose for Winning

Stephen locked the door to his office and checked his phone. There was a text there, from Lewis. I’m outside. He stared at the text, slightly puzzled. Did they have plans today? He couldn’t recall anything in particular. Putting his phone in his pocket, he left the school.

He was met with bright July sunshine when he stepped outside, heading for the front gate.

‘Bye, Mr. Godwin!’ said a year eight girl just running by.

‘Goodbye, Alice! See you in PE tomorrow.’

‘Yes, sir!’ The girl grinned.

He stepped out of the gate and found Lewis in the carpark, leaning against the hood of the car. ‘Did we have plans or something?’ Stephen asked. Lewis shook his head. He was grinning from ear to ear.

‘It passed,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘The bill. The marriage bill, it passed the House of Lords just today. Only royal assent to go and it’s not like she’s gonna say no.’

Stephen blinked, and for a moment he just stood there, until it finally sunk in. ‘The same-sex marriage bill?’

‘No, the other marriage bill.’ Lewis rolled his eyes and then laughed. ‘Yes, the same-sex marriage bill!’

‘It passed?’

‘It passed.’

Stephen felt his face split into a grin, and before he knew it and without a care for who might be watching, he threw himself into Lewis’s arms and hugged him tightly. ‘Oh, my God, that’s amazing! That’s just . . . what a victory!’

Lewis chuckled in his ear. ‘Certainly is.’ They pulled apart a little bit, and for a moment Stephen let himself get lost in Lewis’s dark eyes. He was every bit as gorgeous now as he had been when they met. ‘Stephen.’

‘Hm?’

‘Marry me.’ It wasn’t phrased as a question. It didn’t have to be. Lewis knew.

Stephen leaned in and kissed his boyfriend on the lips. ‘Yes,’ he whispered.

Lewis pulled him tightly to him and kissed him far too deeply for four o’clock in a school car park, but Stephen couldn’t care less about that just then. When they came up for air Stephen rested his forehead against Lewis’s. ‘Yes,’ he said again. Then he took a step back and caught sight of a mother and her son of twelve or thirteen who were staring at them. ‘This man’s going to be my husband,’ he told her proudly. He felt so giddy. ‘Same-sex marriage passed today, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Lewis Griffiths!’

Lewis broke into silent laughter. The mother smiled. ‘Oh. Good for you, then. Come on, Jamie.’ And she and her son walked off.

‘You’re so cheesy,’ said Lewis.

‘Yeah, but you love it.’ Stephen leaned in close and whispered in his ear, ‘Now, let’s go home. I need you to fuck my brains out.’

‘Stephen!’ Lewis pursed his lips, but there was lust in his eyes and he was hiding a smile. He took Stephen’s hand and laced their fingers together. ‘Go on, then.’

* * *

‘Stephen, may I speak with you for a moment, please?’

Stephen looked up to see the headmistress, Rebecca Lindstrom. She smiled.

‘Of course,’ he said, and followed her up the stairs to her office.

‘Please, have a seat.’ She gestured to one of the chairs before her desk, and Stephen sat. He suddenly felt like he was back in school, as a pupil, about to be told off for something. He waited for her to speak. ‘Right. Well. I understand that there was a bit of a . . . display . . . outside the school, yesterday afternoon.’

‘Display?’

She cleared her throat. ‘Er, yes. In the car park.’

Stephen frowned. He did not like where this was going. ‘You mean when I kissed Lewis after he proposed to me.’

She blinked. ‘After—Oh, Stephen, that’s—I mean, that’s wonderful news! I heard about the bill, of course . . . Congratulations! I am truly happy for you both. Really . . .’ She trailed off, and her smile grew a bit sad.

‘But?’

‘Well . . . Your rather public display of affection was witnessed by a number of pupils and their parents.’

‘And?’

‘And I don’t need to tell you that some of those parents are rather conservative. Religiously devout, as it were. There have been some reactions. We’ve had telephone calls all morning . . . It’s all just a bit of a mess, you see.’ She licked her bottom lip and looked away.

‘You’re asking me to quit.’

‘No!’ she said quickly. ‘I’m not, really I’m not.’

‘No, because you’d be breaking the law if you did. But you are asking me to quit.’

Rebecca sighed. ‘I don’t want you to quit, Stephen. Not at all. You’re a wonderful teacher. The students love you, and we, the staff, we all care about you as well. Things just became very complicated is all.’

‘Four years I’ve been here,’ said Stephen softly.

‘I know.’

‘I’m not quitting.’

‘I don’t want you to. Stephen, the school is behind you in this. We will support you. But you need to know that this . . . This may be a tough time for you.’

Stephen swallowed, and then nodded. ‘Yeah. Thanks. I should—My . . . my next lesson will be starting soon.’ He stood and turned towards the door.

‘Stephen,’ said Rebecca, and he met her eyes. ‘I really am sorry. Congratulations on your engagement. Please, give Lewis my best wishes as well.’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’

* * *

Spinning the football in his hands, Stephen looked out at his students. ‘All right, you lot. Splitting you into four teams. I want equal numbers girls and boys in each team if possible, all right? Anyone know where Abdul is today?’

‘He was in English . . .’ said Alice uncertainly.

‘His dad came picked him up,’ said Rashid.

Stephen frowned. He hadn’t been notified of this. ‘I see. Well, we’ll just have to make do without him. Split into teams.’

A voice spoke up. ‘How come you can play football if you’re a faggot?’

Stephen froze. He turned in the direction the voice had come from. Dominic Rush stared defiantly back at him. ‘Excuse me?’ said Stephen calmly.

‘Dad says you’re a faggot. And when there’s football on he says the team that lost is all faggots. So how can you play football if you’re a faggot?’

‘That is a very offensive word, Dom.’

‘But Dad says—’

‘I don’t care what your dad says, we do not use that word in this school.’ Stephen felt his grip on the football tighten and he tried to relax the muscles in his hands.

‘But are you a faggot, though?’

Stephen dropped the ball on the ground. ‘Go to Mrs. Lindstrom’s office,’ he said softly.

‘What for?’

‘Because I told you to!’ Stephen tried not to raise his voice, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Dominic stood his ground and did not move. ‘All right. I’ll take you there myself. You lot pick your teams and warm up in the meantime. Equal number girls and boys as far as possible, okay? Come on, Dominic.’

He marched the boy back inside the school building and up the stairs to Rebecca’s office. He knocked. ‘Yes?’ came Rebecca’s voice from within. He opened the door and stepped inside. ‘Stephen?’

Stephen skipped the preamble. ‘Tell Mrs. Lindstrom what you just called me, please, Dominic.’ Dominic looked uncertain, glancing between Stephen and Rebecca. ‘Go on. Tell her what you said. What did you ask me?’

Dominic swallowed. ‘I . . . I asked if Mr. Godwin was a faggot, Miss.’

Rebecca frowned. ‘What? Where did you learn a word like that?’

‘My dad says he’s a faggot.’ He shrugged.

‘That word is not allowed in this school, Dominic,’ she said.

‘Why? Dad says it all the time!’

‘I’ll bet he does,’ said Stephen through gritted teeth.

Rebecca looked up at him with a pained expression. ‘Stephen, please return to your pupils. I’ll handle this.’

Stephen gave her a curt nod and left the office. When he was out in the corridor he stopped, taking a deep breath. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and then, because nobody was around, he said, ‘Fuck.’

* * *

He walked through the front door with an unenthusiastic, ‘I’m home.’

‘Welcome home, love!’ Lewis called from the kitchen. Stephen unlaced his shoes and made his way toward the room in question. Lewis was cooking. It smelled heavenly, but Stephen barely noticed. ‘There you are,’ said Lewis, smiling at him, but the smile quickly turned into a frown. ‘What’s wrong, babe?’

Stephen sat down at the kitchen table with a heavy sigh and shook his head. ‘I . . .’ He drew a shaky breath. ‘A student called me a faggot today.’

Lewis’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. ‘What?’

‘Apparently, some parents took issue with . . . with us kissing yesterday. Kid’s father called me a faggot, he was just repeating it. And the parents of three kids so far have requested their children be exempt from my lessons.’

‘Oh God. Stephen, I’m sorry.’ Lewis approached him and sat down in the other chair, pulling it closer. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah. No. I dunno. It’s all just . . . really fucked up.’

For once, Lewis made no comment on his use of profanity. Instead, he put his arms around him. ‘I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have . . . Should have just waited until you got home.’

Stephen shook his head. ‘It’s not your fault. It’s the bigots’ fault. I just . . . I thought we were past this, as a society. I thought we could . . .’ He nearly sobbed. ‘Shit . . .’ He hugged Lewis tightly.

‘It’ll be okay,’ said Lewis, stroking his back. ‘You’re an amazing teacher, Stephen. You care about your students, and their parents will see that.’

‘When I was leaving school this mother in the carpark called me a child molester.’

Lewis pulled back and stared at Stephen. His dark eyes were full of rage. ‘That’s just—what century are these people living in?’

Stephen shrugged his shoulder, looking down at his hands. They were shaking. ‘Most of them are Muslims, which . . . not surprising, unfortunately. Some are just plain old bigots. I should’ve—I mean, I know this is a thing. Should be grateful there aren’t more of them, really. Maybe I should just quit . . . Find somewhere else. Be in the closet there.’

Lewis’s voice was firm when he spoke. ‘You will not. Stephen, look at me.’ Stephen did. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, and you shouldn’t have to hide or deny who you are, okay? Who we are.’ He kissed him softly on the lips. ‘I love you.’

Stephen’s breath hitched in his throat. ‘I love you too.’ He kissed his fiancé deeply, clinging to him. ‘Lewis . . . I need . . .’

‘Yeah. I know.’ Lewis extracted himself from Stephen’s embrace and stood up, heading over to the cooker. He took the potatoes off the hob and switched it off. Checked the timer on the oven. Apparently satisfied that the kitchen wouldn’t catch fire, he returned to Stephen and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. ‘Come on,’ he said softly and guided Stephen toward the bedroom.

* * *

The following few days quite frankly sucked. Every day, Stephen’s classes diminished as parents applied to exempt their children from them. And as much as PE was mandatory for all students at his school, it wasn’t exactly vital, and the summer holidays were just around the corner anyway. Had he taught English or Maths . . . But he did not. He taught PE.

He was good at it. Stephen had the ability to motivate even the most hopeless pupils, the ones who had grown to hate exercise because they were terrible at it. Some because they’d had teachers in primary school who had utterly failed to motivate them in any way, shape, or form.

Stephen had had one of those himself when he was in high school. A former professional gymnast named Miss Smith, whose idea of motivation was saying, ‘If you cannot complete this task, you’re a failure. This is entirely elementary, you should all be able to do it.’

And Stephen could always do it, of course. He was already athletic, already enjoyed playing sports, running, swimming, anything that exercised his body and made him feel good about himself. But he saw what it did to some of his classmates. There had been a boy, Raj, a scrawny, nerdy kid with glasses so thick he was legally blind without them. He was terrified of Miss Smith, terrified of the ball when they played any game involving one. He was bullied by other kids, lacked self-esteem in every way possible.

One day he had simply broken down in tears when Miss Smith gave him a lecture on how poorly he was performing and had bolted from the room. That day, Stephen had stood up to Miss Smith, told her straight out that she was a shit teacher whose methods were outdated and draconic. Then he had left too, chasing after Raj. He had found him sitting under the stairs not far from the gym, sobbing.

Stephen had sat down next to him, put an arm around his shoulders, and told him that there was nothing wrong with him, that he shouldn’t have to push himself like that. That all he needed was the right motivation, and if he just did his best, that should be enough.

To Stephen’s great surprise, they had ended up kissing after that. Stephen was already out at fifteen, and far too strong to be a target of bullying. Turned out Raj had had a crush on him for a while. They hadn’t ended up as boyfriends or anything, but it had been nice all the same.

The whole thing had landed Stephen in detention, of course. He didn’t care one bit. He had realised at that moment that what he wanted to do with his life was help kids like Raj find motivation and joy in exercise. And once Stephen set his mind to something, he would stop at nothing to accomplish it.

Now, though . . . Now everything just felt fucked up. And walking down the corridors at school he felt like the students, especially the older ones, were staring at him, judging him.

He entered his office and sat down with a sigh, burying his face in his hands. Maybe he should just quit . . . But Stephen Godwin was not a quitter.

There came a knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ said Stephen. He knew he sounded defeated, and as the door opened he tried to put on his cheerful, professional teacher face.

A year eleven boy named Korey stepped inside his office, closing the door behind him. ‘Hi, Mr. Godwin.’

‘Korey.’ Stephen smiled. ‘Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?’

Korey sat. He looked around the office for a little bit, chewed his lip. When he spoke his voice was soft. ‘I, er . . . I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for what’s happening to you. You’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had, and it’s just not fair how people are acting, just because . . . Just cause you’re gay.’

Stephen was taken aback. ‘I . . . Thank you, Korey. I really appreciate that.’

‘I was wondering,’ Korey continued, ‘when did you . . . how did you come out? As gay?’

Stephen smiled, leaning back in his chair. ‘I was fourteen. Well, nearly fifteen. I don’t know that I ever really “came out”, exactly . . . It just never occurred to me not to be myself. So I was. Nearly got punched in the face the first time I tried to kiss a boy, but the second time went much better.’ He searched Korey’s face. ‘Why are you asking?’ He already knew the answer, of course. Could see it in the way Korey looked at his hands, fidgeted in his seat.

‘I . . . I’m pretty sure I’m gay,’ he said. ‘And I want to be able to go out there and find someone and, you know, be happy. But I’m scared. With the way people have been reacting to you . . . and I mean, you’re a teacher, the best teacher, and still, your students talk shit about you behind your back.’ He seemed to catch himself and quickly said, ‘Sorry, that probably makes you feel worse, I didn’t mean to—’

‘It’s fine,’ said Stephen. ‘I know they do. I’d be surprised if they didn’t.’

‘This guy in my year, he was such a dick earlier. Was saying all these . . . things about you. So I told him to piss off, that you’re a great teacher and it shouldn’t matter who you—who you like.’ He blushed. ‘He called me gay and I wanted to just say, “Yeah, so what?” But I didn’t. And now I feel like a coward.’

‘You’re not,’ said Stephen firmly. ‘Korey, when and if you come out is up to you. You do it on your own terms, nobody else’s. As for how people have been reacting to me . . . You’ve got a week left of this before the holidays. September, you’ll be off to college. Then it probably won’t matter anymore. People are different in college, more grown up. Trust me, it’s a different world, and you can be whomever you want to be. Right?’

Korey nodded and smiled. ‘Yeah. Thanks. Really, Mr. Godwin, thank you.’

‘It’s my pleasure, kid.’

Korey stood and gave him another warm smile. ‘Those people. Those bigots . . . You can fight them, sir. Please don’t let them scare you away from teaching.’

‘I have no intention of letting them do that,’ said Stephen. ‘I can promise you that much. But I appreciate your support.’

Korey grinned. ‘Good. Cause without you I’d’ve never started playing basketball. See you later.’

Stephen waved him off with a smile. ‘See you, Korey.’

* * *

Lewis was in his office when Stephen got home that day. He put away his drawing tablet when Stephen entered, swivelling his chair around to face him. He smiled. ‘You’re looking more chipper today.’

Stephen returned his smile. ‘Yeah. Today was . . . Well, today was awful, really, but then just before afternoon lessons started, this kid came into my office. He came out to me, and he said he’d stood up for me to some other boys. Then he said not to let them get to me. Not to let them make me quit.’

‘Smart kid,’ said Lewis. ‘That’s good advice.’

Stephen nodded. ‘Yeah. It is.’ He met Lewis’s gaze. ‘I refuse to quit. If I quit, they win. I won’t let them win.’

‘Of course you won’t,’ said Lewis, his deep voice soft and kind. ‘You are caring and strong and you never give in. And that’s why I love you. That’s why I want you to be my husband.’

The office chair wasn’t really big enough, but somehow Stephen still managed to climb into Lewis’s lap, straddling him and kissing him deeply and thoroughly. ‘You say that,’ he murmured, ‘but I couldn’t do this without you. You give me strength.’

Lewis shook his head. ‘It’s all you, Stephen. I just help you see it.’

‘I love you so much,’ said Stephen.

‘Bed,’ was all the reply he got. ‘Now.’

An hour later, Stephen lay spent in his fiancé’s arms. ‘I can’t believe I’m actually going to marry you,’ he said softly. ‘It’s like a dream come true. Like you’re everything I ever wanted, and you’re mine. How did I get that lucky?’

Lewis chuckled. ‘It’s a funny old world. I’m the lucky one. Lucky this cute athletic guy decided to stalk me three and a half years ago.’

Stephen felt himself blush. ‘I wasn’t stalking you!’ he said defensively. ‘I was just . . . checking you out from afar and biding my time.’ He sighed. ‘It’s not like me to be as nervous as I was when I met you. Guess I felt like you were out of my league. Still feel like that sometimes. You’re so gorgeous and kind and loving, so what are you even doing with me? You’re miles above me.’

Lewis rolled over, pushed Stephen down on his back and kissed him fiercely. ‘Don’t ever let me hear you put yourself down like that,’ he said. ‘You are not beneath me, Stephen.’

‘Well, I am right now.’ Stephen smirked and wiggled his hips.

‘Don’t talk back, love. You’re the most remarkable man I have ever met. You’re the man that I love. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you.’

‘See? Luckiest bastard alive, me. To be loved by someone like you.’ Stephen pressed his lips against Lewis’s in a soft and gentle kiss. ‘I can’t wait to be Mr. Griffiths.’

Hope you liked it. I've got at least one more planned about these two.