Page 41 of Wild Card

“About to what?”

I looked over, caught that verdant gaze, and let out a sigh.Maybe I should just come clean…“I was about to make fun of her for not liking lime-flavored chips, that’s all.”

“Hmmm, right.” Mallory turned to look out the window, and the fact that she didn’t seem to believe me just rubbed me wrong.

“You don’t believe I would have said anything to her?”

A heavy sigh and she was back looking my way. “I saw the way you two looked when I went into my room. Say whatever you want, but I know guys like you. You may say you want her to eat like a dude and be chill, but you’ll never complain as long she’s rocking that tiny waist.”

Wow. Just…fucking wow.

I didn’t respond to her comment because I wasn’t even sure what to say. She’d judged me so easily, thinking she knew me, but she didn’t. I hated the strange feeling it stirred in me…and maybe if I spoke and eased the tension in the truck, it wouldn’t feel so personal.

“I don’t know what you saw the other night, but Taylor stayed on her phone through the movie. I even tried to talk to her a few times, but she didn’t seem interested at all. I have no idea what I did wrong or if she just doesn’t like guys like me, but nothing happened.”

I looked over toward her side of the truck, but she wasn’t watching me. I wished I could have seen her face, seen if her eyes went wide when she heard that, or if she even cared. I hated that I wanted her to.

“As far as your comment regarding her waist size…well, no offense, but fuck that. Not all guys are the same, and not all guys have the same taste in women.”

It was silent for a few miles, until her small breath filled the cab and I heard a soft apology. It was sweet, sincere, but I knew it was hard for her just the same. There was more we both wanted to say; I knew that much. I knew if we didn’t have to talk shop, we’d fill the silence with why each of us cared about that night and how it ended, but we didn’t.

“How does Elias fit into all this?” she suddenly asked.

I waited, unsure I wanted to venture into this territory yet. I fucking hated him, but I didn’t want to explain his role in the game, or how I knew so much about him.

“Elias is the captain of the Devils. He is aware of the games, picks the dates for them and helps configure who gets what base based on the bid the player puts in…but it’s rare for him to participate. He was scouted early in college, and because of that he’s actually pretty careful about hooking up with girls. He’s too worried about attracting a jersey chaser, someone looking to poke a hole in the condom.”

It was quiet for a few moments while she jotted a few notes down in her notebook. Every now and then she’d pause and scratch her eyebrow with the cap of the pen.

“Have you participated?” she asked, and I caught sight of her reddening face before she added, “I mean besides with me, have you at least gone and partied, maybe not picked a girl but partied with them?”

I lightly pressed my foot to the brake, getting ready to verge off the freeway, considering for a second all the rejection I felt layered on my shoulders from the past year or so.

“I hang at the house when I need to, but I don’t go to the parties anymore. I used to though.”

“Why don’t you go anymore? I thought it was an honor or something for the team.” Her curiosity was genuine and showed that she hadn’t heard my story or even dug around enough to know what position I had previously played on the Devils. That both intrigued and pained me.

“When I was a freshman and a sophomore, I enjoyed the parties because I helped deliver the cards. I also helped with the names…most of the players don’t know who was picked, just as much as the girl doesn’t know who’s waiting in that room. There’s a roster of girls they pick from, then the lowerclassmen decide the rest.”

“That’s horrible. There are just so many layers to this that would eventually blow up.” Mal brought her hands to her face and shook her head.

“Keep in mind, these are girls who have filled out a form saying they’d one day like to be selected. They’re asked to select what base number they’re comfortable with and if they have any previous negative experiences with anyone on the team.”

“Well I guess that’s something.” She returned to her notebook, bending over it to scribble more notes.

Trees passed by as we made our way toward my home. The closer we got, the more nervous I became. She would meet Kyle…my mom if she was home. She’d see my childhood home.

“So, can I ask what’s in it for the team members?”

I turned to catch the expression on her face, feeling my walls go up.

“Why do you follow the rules, live in the house…play the card game? Surely this isn’t how normal teams function.”

She wasn’t wrong, considering the team acted more like a secret society than anything else, but this was something outsiders didn’t know about.

I gripped the wheel, locking my jaw.

“Sorry, that was probably a question that is too personal.” Mal crossed something out on her notepad.

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