The Front Runner

more questions," I said in my best Parris Island voice.
    "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact," said McGill. "The rumor mill says that you and Billy are having a sexual relationship. Is that true?"
    A number of people gasped softly around us. By now nearly everybody in the bar was packed around us. Even the officials got up from their rain-soaked time list to take in the spectacle.
    Billy seemed to get even whiter around the nostrils, and his eyes narrowed. As for me, I was doing a job on my face, hoping that it showed nothing of my feelings.
    "Hey, uh, your thing about the rumor mill is kind of tiresome," said Billy.
    "Is it true?" asked McGill.
    "I don't like that phrase 'sexual relationship,'" I said. "Why don't you say that Billy and I are in love? You can quote me on that."
    McGill was writing it all down. You could have heard a pin drop in that bar. "How long has this relationship been going on?"
    Billy stood at bay, the animal against the wall, the silver bowl held forgotten in the crook of his arm. He smiled a little. "Since April. Right after the Drake Relays. April 27, if you want the date."
    McGill was really warming up now. He looked at me. "How do you feel about the fact that many people
    feel you, as the coach, are doing a very improper thing by having a sexual relationship with the boy?"
    "What's so improper about it?" I said. "I can name you half a dozen straight coaches who are married or engaged to their female runners. I could also name you another half a dozen who are just sleeping with their female runners."
    "Don't you think this is different?" said McGill.
    "I'm sorry," I said, "it's my gay point of view. But I don't see it as different at all."
    "The rumor mill says that you seduced him," said McGill. "Is that true?"
    "I don't think you've been listening to the rumor mill very carefully," said Billy. "What it really said was that all three of us were gay when we were at Oregon. That was why Gus Lindquist kicked us off the team. And I had four other lovers before Harlan, so nobody was doing any seducing."
    McGill was still looking at me. No, he really wasn't obnoxious. The whole group around us was beginning to stir with comments and rustlings. People were nudging, looking at each other, saying this is incredible, etc.
    "Would you care to comment on your dismissal from Penn State in view of all this?"
    "Yes, I will comment on that. I was innocent at Penn State. The kid was gay, and he sensed I was gay. He wanted to sleep with me, and I didn't want to sleep with him. I'm a discriminating guy, McGill, I don't screw just anybody. The kid made the charges out of pique, that's all."
    "Have you been in the habit of sleeping with athletes through the years?"
    Was it really possible that they were doing this to me? Was it really possible, right at this race, after the good race and the softly falling rain and that sea of runners on the wide lawn?
    "No," I said. "I made it a habit of separating my love life and my profession, so to speak."
    "Could you tell me how many?"
    Billy was white with fury, his lips twitching.
    "Only Billy," I said. "But I'm sure you don't believe me."
    Jacques had turned away and had his hands over his face, sobbing. Betsy tried to comfort him.
    "What do you feel is the future of your relationship?" McGill said.
    I was ready to kill somebody. "Are you asking me if I think such a relationship has a future?"
    "Well .. ." said McGill.
    "If I didn't think it did, do you think I'd be in it? Would I stand here and answer idiotic questions like yours for a matinee with somebody?" I could hardly breathe. "Of course it has a future. As far as we're both concerned, it's forever."
    Still holding the silver bowl, Billy reached to me with his free hand and closed it comfortingly around my arm. Anguished, we looked at each other. The sadistic photographer flashed a picture of us at that moment.
    "Have you got everything you want?" Billy asked McGill savagely.
    "Yes, I think so. Thanks," McGill said, closing his notepad.
    "In that case," said Billy, "if you don't mind, I'm going to have some tea."
    I had been ready to run out of that damned bar the minute McGill was done. But suddenly it occurred to me that Billy was instinctively doing the right thing. If we all left in a big hurry, it would look like shame and fear.
    Billy gave the bowl to Vince and started toward the tea urn, dignified, controlled. Silently the group shifted aside to let him pass. "You guys want anything?" he said over his