Page 6 of Trick Play

So when allllll of the powers that be declined to do anything to those assholes, I decided to serve justice myself.

Except apparently the whole house has video surveillance “for security purposes”—if security means making sure you get as much footage of naked chicks getting fucked by frat brothers as possible—and they caught me sneaking in and stealing all the cables and controllers for their TVs and video game consoles, plus every game I could get my hands on, and their modem as the cherry on top.

It was petty as fuck and not nearly enough justice for what they’d done, but it was the best I could do on my own. They love their TV and video games, so having them disabled and stolen would’ve made them upset for at least a little while. Yeah, sure, they could replace all that shit without too much trouble, but it would take time and effort.

Except I got caught. Campus police came to my dorm room, recovered everything that I stole, and thenIgot in trouble.

I guess in this case the fact that the school doesn’t often involve the real police worked out in my favor, because I apparently stole more than a thousand dollars worth of equipment, so I would’ve been charged with a felony. Though if they’d held the frat responsible for their behavior in the first place, I wouldn’t have felt the need to sneak in and steal stuff …

But I guess that’s neither here nor there at this point.

My parents made a deal with the dean that I would withdraw instead of being expelled, and now I’m here. At Marycliff. With no time for boys, especially the ones that are too pretty for my own good. Because boys only lead to trouble.

So I avoid practice the next week. When Gray texts to ask if I want to meet him after practice for dinner on Wednesday, I tell him I’m too busy. He sends me back a sad face emoji. But I wonder if it’s not for the best for him too. Shouldn’t he be hanging around with his friends and having a good time instead of constantly making room for his little sister to tag along? Maybe I should just stop going to his practices all together. And his games. Gray needs his own space to live his own life without me dragging him down or cramping his style.

At least that’s the excuse I tell myself, because I’m refusing to admit that I’m really avoiding the pull of Cal McAdam’s piercing blue eyes and sexy, model-perfect smirk.

Instead I keep to my well-worn paths between classes and my dorm room, watching out for Cal so I can avoid him like I did after Anthropology last week when he was lurking outside the door to Kent Hall with two cups in his hands, obviously the hot chocolate he’d offered to buy me. I felt a tiny stab of guilt when I reversed course and went out the door on the other side of the building, taking the long way to my next class and arriving two minutes late and out of breath, but it was worth it to save my sanity. And possibly my education.

And that’s the only reason I’m here at Marycliff—to finish my degree in political science, apply to a law school far, far away, and get out. So I fill all my free time with studying, only watching movies with Dani when I need a break.

“Ugghhh,” Dani complains when I suggest another movie on Wednesday evening, flopping down on the couch next to me and giving me herI mean businessface. “No. Not after the movie marathon all weekend and every other night this week. That’s too many movies. I’m tired of being cooped up in this room, and you need to get out and breathe some fresh air. Let’s go do something.”

“I get plenty of fresh air,” I protest, ignoring her suggestion of “doing something.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Oh? When?”

“Between classes. I’m outside walking every day. And since I’m taking so many classes, it’s like an hour of power walking a day when you add it all together.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “That doesn’t count.”

“Why not? Of course it counts. I’m moving, I’m outside”—I count my points off on my fingers—“that’s both exercise and fresh air.”

“But it’s not relaxing”—she shoves at my shoulder, almost knocking me over—“or taking care of yourself or having fun.”

“And what would qualify, in your exalted opinion?” I ask with narrowed eyes, though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. Her usual idea of “doing something” and “having fun” is hanging out with her friend Eli and his roommates and friends. Which is fine, except that Eli’s a football player. And I’m trying toavoidanywhere the football team congregates, because there’s a chance that McAdam will show up. And while I need a break from studying, and Dani’s right that getting out of the room would be good, I’m not sure it’s worth the risk.

“Well …” She glances at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Eli—”

“I knew it!” I slap my hands on my thighs then point a finger at her. “I knew you were going to suggest going to his place.”

“So?” She shrugs. “He’s my friend. I like hanging out with him.”

“Uh-huh. And how is hanging out and watching Eli and Jackson play video games better than watching a movie here?”

“For one thing, I’ll be playing video games too. You could try it. You might have fun.”

I give her a skeptical look, and she just shrugs, standing and grabbing her favorite black hoodie from the back of the wooden dining chair we picked up at a thrift store for cheap. It’s supposed to be extra seating, but it’s been turned into a spot to dump jackets and bags.

“You’re going dressed like that?” I ask as she pulls the sweatshirt over her head, fixing her ponytail and redoing her thin elastic headband to hold back the wispy hairs pulled free by putting on her sweatshirt.

A frown mars her un-made up face as she looks down at her jeans and shapeless sweatshirt bearing the white silhouette of a man holding a barbell above his head and the words KR Strength & Fitness. “Yeah. What’s wrong with this? It’s what I always wear.”

I sit forward on the couch. “It’s fine for rolling out of bed and going to class at eight in the morning. But it doesn’t do your body any favors. You’re about to go hang out with a bunch of guys. I’m just saying you should wear something that shows you off more.”

Rolling her eyes, she scoffs. “First off, it’s Eli and Jackson. Eli and I have been friends for years, and Jackson is too shy to approach a girl, even if he did possibly find me attractive. Number two, they see me as one of the guys. Showing up in some girly outfit would make them think I dropped the barbell on my head doing overhead presses and suffered a brain injury. So yes, I’m absolutely wearing this, and you can’t say a thing to change my mind.”

I close my mouth before I can point out that maybe Eli or Jackson would see her as more than just one of the guys if she tried to get them to see her as a girl, but I think she likes things the way they are. And even if I think she might have more than just friendly feelings for Eli, if she’s not ready to acknowledge them, who am I to push the issue? “Fine,” I grumble, “Point made.”

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