He hadn’t willingly gone to a game since his freshman year in college. Willingly, as in dragged by his roommates that first year, and unwillingly his second year by a boyfriend who was having a secret affair with the very much in the closet quarterback. Which Grey found about the hard and oh-so-embarrassing way. By walking in on them locked up on the floor of his dorm room. Why they’d chosen his dorm room to do the deed, Grey never could figure out. Maybe it was his way of getting Grey to dump him. Or join in. The quarterback had seemed willing. But Grey wasn’t into group sex. He stood in front of his miniscule closet and tossed clothes around. He had no fucking idea what to wear to a high school football game, especially when he could barely remember high school in the first place. He found a fitted t-shirt in the same color as the school’s more dominant color, navy blue, and paired it with a pair of older faded jeans that didn’t scream fag. And flip flops. He didn’t know if flip flops were appropriate game footwear but, damn it, was hot outside.
