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Michael tried not to fidget. He had no idea what his father was talking about. He'd picked up a few pieces here and there on the game--inevitable, considering how much time he and Tre had spent together after they'd first met--but much of it still went right over his head. If it didn't involve Tre, he had a tendency not to notice it. And he hadn't even watched Tre's games in the beginning because he didn't want to be reminded they weren't together.
"I don't think they've said anything about it yet. Who's New York playing again?"
George's lips twitched. "New York played yesterday afternoon. You were sitting here when Geary was injured, and they were forced to rely on the running game."
His face flushed. Now that George mentioned it, he remembered. He had been so focused on Tre, he hadn't even made the connection.
"I'm still learning, okay? Be glad I'm not bugging you about why the team's uniforms change colors in between games anymore."
"It was my fondest hope that my brilliant son would one day learn the difference between home games and away games." George took a long swallow of his Coke, then reached for the bag of peanuts he always kept on the side of his chair. "How many rushing yards did Griffin have yesterday?"
"A hundred and thirty-seven with ten receptions." Michael sipped his drink before adding, "And seventy-four passing yards."
"I see. Was that his first hundred-yard plus game this year?"
"Tenth, actually. He would've had eleven if he hadn't been injured in the New England game."
"Yeah, he probably would have. He was lucky it was just a sprain, or else he might have missed more games. You talk to him at all since the seasonstarted?"
"Every once in a while."
Not as often as Michael would have liked. And he didn't dare tell his dad the truth about their relationship. George thought they were just friends, and had ever since Michael had brought him to the family reunion the January before. Though Michael was out in his day-to-day life, his parents didn't know the truth, and Tre was deep in the closet due to his career. For Tre's sake, they kept it as discreet as they possibly could. Michael didn't care. All that mattered was the time he got to spend with Tre. If the world wanted to see them as only friends, it didn't change a thing about his feelings for the man.
"Uh huh. Son..." George muted the television and trained thoughtful eyes on Michael. Though he was getting older, and had all the aches and pains to prove it, his mind was still as sharp as it had ever been. "Are you and Tre Griffin more than just friends?"