Page 26 of Draft Pick

Lincoln and Zay spotted me and waved me over to the clump of girls they were chatting up—time to play the part of the superstar stud. The first day of the new fall semester, and already the hype over the Wolverine’s upcoming season was all over campus.

Banners fluttered in the wind from the arched walkway, and a giant picture of me in a throwing stance greeted incoming freshmen as they walked wide-eyed into San Jose State for the first time.

The giant picture was a bit much, but somehow my dad managed to make it happen. My dad worked with too many celebrities — he’d embraced the PR belief that all publicity was good publicity, and the more hype that centered around my name, the better chances I’d have of earning a spot on an NFL roster. It was all bullshit, though. I had to deliver the goods. If my skills weren’t up to snuff, I could kiss a professional career in sports goodbye.

That part had me guzzling Pepto Bismal in the middle of the night. What if I wasn’t worth the hype? I had so much riding on my shoulders; the pressure was killing me.

“There he is, the most popular man on campus,” cooed one of the girls — a brunette wearing tight booty shorts and a cropped top that barely covered enough to pass as a shirt — as she held her hand out. “I’m Rachel. You should take me out sometime.”

Bold as fuck. I didn’t have anything against the confidence, but my engine was dead for some reason. It wasn’t that I was missing Starlie; I was too keyed up about everything else in my life that I didn’t have room for much else.

But the game continued.

“Yeah?” I said, pretending interest, playing along. “Maybe so.”

“Baby, do I look like I entertain ‘maybe’ energy? Think again, Boo. Snooze you lose and someone else will have the privilege of my company. So what’s it going to be? Pick me up at 8 this Friday?”

Instant turn-off.

Zayden came to my rescue before I said something shitty. “Aww, man, my boy’s already got plans, don’t you dog?” He looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded with silent relief. There’s no fucking way I could stomach an entire evening with that woman. Zayden’s gaze made an appreciative sweep from head to toe before adding, “But, baby, I’m totally free and I’ll happily pick you up and show you a good time.”

Rachel reluctantly swiveled her attention to Zayden, preening beneath his obvious interest. “I love a man who knows how to take control of a situation. Sure, you can pick me up at 8.” She grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote her number on his hand before looking at me dismissively, “Better luck next time, babe.”

Rachel and her posse left, and I dropped the act, saying to Zayden, “Thanks man.”

“Yeah, you’re really taking one for the team,” Lincoln quipped with a roll of his eyes. “Going out with that one will be a real hardship.”

Zayden had no shame in his game. “Look, there is no such thing as low hanging fruit. All fruit is sweet, juicy, and delicious,” he grinned. “And that one…mmmm, I can already taste those melons and that ripe peach of an ass.”

“Zay, someday you’re going to have daughters and all your sins will come back to haunt you,” Lincoln predicted. “You run through women like water through a colander.”

“What the hell’s a colander?” Zayden asked.

“You know, that thing that you strain spaghetti noodles with and shit.”

“Naw, never heard of it. Stop with all the fancy words, man,” Zayden grumbled before returning to me. “So, you really weren’t into that chick at all? Not even a flicker? Are you feeling all right? I’m worried about you. Go get a massage or something. Loosen up. You’re wound up tighter than a nun’s asshole.”

“Why a nun? Shouldn’t all assholes be tight?” I asked, curious. “Also, I think that might be considered blasphemous or something.”

Zayden stopped a minute to consider, then amended his statement with a quick sign of the cross, “Just in case,” saying, “Fine, you’re a fucking stress-box and you’re starting to be a giant wet blanket to be around, no offense. I mean, I got you, bro, but you’re going to have to meet me half-way. We’re about to start the best year of our lives. The three of us are fucking top prospects in the state — that’s saying something — and there are plenty of guys who’d kill to be in our position. We’re golden, man. Enjoy the sunshine.”

Maybe Zayden had a point. I hadn’t been myself lately. I knew I’d been a bear to be around for a few weeks, but as I said, I was over the hype, and the season hadn’t even started yet.

I acknowledged Zayden, we fist-bumped, and Zay jogged off to catch someone he knew before his next class, leaving Lincoln and me behind.

Lincoln, far more sensitive than Zayden would ever be, knew I was struggling, but he took a different approach. “Have you called her?”

I pretended ignorance. “Called who?”

“C’mon, you don’t have to play that game with me. I know how it feels to have someone under your skin and not being able to get them out.”

A ready denial was on my lips, but I didn’t want to lie to Lincoln when he was being sincere. “No, it’s better this way,” I finally answered, shaking my head. “C’mon man, you know there’s no point in delaying the inevitable. Starlie and I…our worlds don’t mesh. She’s better off finding someone she can actually build a future with.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense,” Lincoln said, but added, “but you really like her,” as if that should negate the rest.

“And I really like mangoes but if I eat them I puff up like a balloon and my throat closes,” I returned dryly. “Somethings you have to learn to live without.”

“And you think Starlie is something you’re allergic to?”

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