18 Knox

Post Game: Warriors 1-0

My phone is dead. Given how crappy the day has been going, I’m unsurprised. Game one is in the books with eleven to go. If we play like we did today in any of those upcoming games, we can kiss our national title hopes goodbye.

“You got a charge?” I nudge Matty. I don’t think I’ve gotten a text from Ellie, but that doesn’t stop me from obsessively checking my phone.

“No. Sorry, man. Mine’s on life support too.” He shows me his phone face. The battery indicator is red. “I’m working on a local meet up, and if my phone dies before I can get all the details locked down, I’ll be pissed.” He flips to Instagram where some busty brunette has posted a thousand selfies. “Like her?”

I shrug. She’s pretty, but she also looks like everyone else Matty has screwed in the last twelve months.

“How about her?” With a flick of his fingers, he brings up another profile.

“They look the same to me.” Lots of long hair, big boobs and tiny waists. They look kind of breakable. One thing I like about Ellie is that she’s solid. I don’t have to worry about holding back with her.

That is, when I get her. I haven’t heard from her since she gave me the book back. My guess is that she’s offended I’m keeping track of Jack. It’s not like I’m reading his answers or pre-grading his papers. Who’s got time for that shit? I’ve got my own classes and don’t need to add that burden.

But maybe she thought I insulted Jack, called him dumb. He’s obviously not. Our playbook is complicated and he’s had zero problems catching on. She’s mad about something. When my parents argue, my dad says that you have to give mom time to cool off.

So that’s what I’m doing. I figure it’s worked for my dad for nearly twenty-five years. Why not me?

The bus stops in front of the hotel, but before we get off, Coach stands at the front.

“No curfew tonight, but you guys screw this up and you’ll be required to be in your beds every night at seven for four months,” Coach threatens. “The team bus leaves for the airport at four in the morning. Anyone not on the bus will be suspended for the next game.”

Everyone promises to be angels as we file out and then mill around in the lobby while Stella gets everyone’s room keys.

“We’re meeting some locals at the bar next door.” Hammer jerks his head toward the lobby door.

I look at my dead phone.

“I’ll hang out for a bit,” I concede. It’s good for the team, I figure.

When Hammer raises his fist and yells, “Masters is in,” I know it’s the right call. Stella hands out the room keys but before I can head up, Coach grabs me. “Watch out for your guys.”

“I got it.” I nod.

Upstairs, I plug in my phone and exchange the suit for a gray workout T-shirt, jeans, and a pair of flips. Matty and Hammer have their Warriors T-shirt on. I make them change. No sense in advertising our team allegiance given that we spanked the hometown team.

While they switch out their shirts, I call Ty on Hammer’s phone since he’s the only one who had the good sense to charge it before the game.

“Good game, man,” he says upon answering.

“Thanks.” I throw myself on the bed. Ty had a game on Thursday night that they won. “We’re stuck here because there’s some bad weather in Chicago.”

He groans. “Fuck, that sucks.” No one wants to spend more nights away from home than you have to. It messes with your schedule. But teams are cautious about flying in bad weather given that if the whole charter goes down, you’ve lost the entire program. “You going out?”

“Yeah, with Matty and Hammer.” I rub a hand over my hair—the short cut ensures that it doesn’t totally look like ass since I don’t like to even brush it. Matty, on the other hand, uses more product than some girls. In fact, some of the girls he’s slept with give him tips on how to take care of his long hair.

“What’s going on? You sound uneasy. Was it the first quarter? You guys just shook out the dust of the off season.”

Ty’s attempt at encouragement hits off the mark. I’m not uneasy. I’m tense. The post-game high has worn off, but I’m still edgy because I can’t stop thinking about Ellie.

Tonight the guys will come back with out of town strangers, and given the location of our hotel, it won’t be college coeds either. Matty’s told me more than once he likes his women older. They know what they want and aren’t afraid to vocalize it.

“It’s the girl.” He sounds concerned.

“Yeah, the girl.”

“What happened?”

“I think I offended her.” I explain the Jack situation. “So I thought I’d give her some time to cool off, like Dad does.”

“You sure she’s the one?” he asks cautiously.

“Fuck, man, I’m not sure about anything right now. We played like shit in the first quarter. Against a better team, we might have been sunk. We can barely score and if our defense isn’t playing lights out then our chances of a title are gone.” I take a couple calming breaths. “And I’m definitely not sure about her.”

Then I think of the sharp set of her chin every time she says something that she thinks I’ll disagree with. The sparkle in her eyes when she talks about football—the sport she says is just okay. Right, and I’m a ballerina. The way her brother and her get along. They’re a unit like Ty and I are a unit. I’m not uncertain anymore.

I’ve always known what I want. From the minute I could walk, I wanted to play ball. From the moment I realized I could have dreams and make those dreams a reality, I vowed I’d play on Sundays.

Now? Now I want one prickly Eliot Campbell and not even her barricades will keep me out.

“Actually, I am sure about her.” I hear a pounding on the door. Clearly my teammates are tired of waiting for me. “Hammer and Matty are back. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, bro.”

Downstairs, Jack Campbell shows up along with Ace and a couple of the other offensive players.

“Good game.” We exchange chin nods. The offense and the defense have different mindsets. They want to score. We want to destroy them. It makes for uneasy times even when we’re on the same team.

“Thanks. Felt good to play again.”

That’s a sentiment I can get behind. About twenty of us head out. The rest of the guys are underage or calling their girlfriends.

The bar down the street has plenty of action. Half dance club, half sports bar, we settle in to watch the night games. I find myself a table in front of the Wisconsin/Alabama game. Right off the bat someone’s BCS hopes will get bruised. Hammer and Matty join me. We order a round of beers and a couple of appetizers and settle in.

The Crimson Tide’s defense is a ball-busting, soul-crushing machine. I simultaneously admire the hell out of them while wanting to beat them into the turf. They’re one of the teams I wouldn’t be surprised to play in the playoffs.

During halftime, the score is tied at ten all, and Matty and Hammer leave to meet up with the local talent.

“Hey,” a soft voice greets me.

My head swivels to find a sweet thing standing at my side, one hip jutting out and long red fingernails tapping away at that round shape. If she meant to draw my attention there, it’s a success. I flick my eyes upward. She’s pretty. Real pretty. Dark tight curls, skin that reminds me of the fall leaves, and a top so low that I wonder if I’m seeing nips or that’s a shadow from the big screen. “You Knox Masters?”

I nod.

“You play for the Warriors, right?”

“Right.” I scratch the side of my neck as I search for a nice way to tell her to get lost.

“I saw you on the field today. You looked amazing.” Her lips look red and very shiny, and she deserves some kind of response. I’m not sure what it is.

She leans forward and presses a kiss against my cheek. “That guy gave me $100 to deliver this to you.”