Page 32 of No More Jocks

“Excuse me; what the hell is he doing here?” I corrected myself, my eyes narrowing as I glared at Bradley.

“I know you said you didn’t want to see him again, but he’s come to apologize,” my father explained, his expression softening slightly.

“Bradley. Outside. Now,” I ordered, my voice cold and commanding. Bradley stood up and followed me outside, his eyes downcast. I gave my father a menacing glare as I closed the door behind us.

He shrugged his shoulder and made that confused expression like he was a kid that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar after repeatedly being told no sweets. My father was being so selfish. The only reason he let Bradley in was because he wanted the season tickets to his games.

“Before you go off on me, let me speak,” Bradley said, his voice laced with remorse. His eye looked worse than I thought it would. Marcus had punched him hard. “I was wrong for ghosting you and getting with Sarah without any explanation. I had a contract to play ball, and I was scared that if they found out about me, I wouldn’t be able to play. But now that I have the contract, I can do whatever I want. If they drop me, they must pay me millions.”

He reached out and handed me an envelope. “If it weren’t for you, no one would have reviewed my contract. You’re the one that told me to hire my own lawyer. I’d never have passed my college courses and been drafted into the NFL. So it’s only fair that I share this with you.” I opened the envelope, and inside was a check for $100,000 and tickets to his next game. “I hope it shows you how much you mean to me.”

“Bradley, this is generous, but I’m with Marcus and can’t accept this,” I said, my voice firm.

“Caleb, I wouldn’t have this money if it weren’t for you. If you don’t take it, I will give it to your sister, and she will spend it on name-brand clothing.”

“You’re right,” I replied, taking the envelope and stuffing it in my pocket. “Can I ask you a question?” I said.

“Yeah, sure?”

“Why me? Out of all the muscular men and athletes you hang around.”

“I loved being around someone who was authentically and honestly themselves. Jocks often aren’t allowed to show who they are. We have an image to uphold, so it’s hard for us to be ourselves.”

“Now, can I ask you a question?” Bradley countered.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Do you love him?”

“I think I do,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t let him get away. Don’t be stupid like me,” he replied.

“Did you threaten him by telling him you had pictures of us you would spread to the entire school?”

“No, I technically didn’t do that, but I paid someone else to threaten him via text and say those things.”

“You know you caused a lot of trouble. You almost broke us up. Do you really have pictures?”

“That was the plan, but when your mom told me you were crying and almost missed school, I knew I had taken this too far. I had hurt you once and didn’t want to hurt you again. No, there are no pictures.”

“Thank you for being honest. Now I need you to go to the police station and drop any charges you filed, and when he’s ready to go to the draft in the next four years, you put in some good words for him. You almost fucked up his whole life.”

“Consider it done. Do you need me to apologize?”

“No, I think you have done enough. I will handle it from here.”

“Are you sure we don’t have a chance?”

“No chance in hell; Cheating is unforgivable in my book.”

“Fuck!”

“Besides, you have a new boy toy?”

“The guy at the theater? That’s just sex.”

“And that’s why we’re not together. Bye, Bradley.”

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