Page 2 of Calm Before the Score

His intense friend is still silent. Do I smell? Did I say something wrong? He looks like he’s angry about something. How could he be? It’s only 11:30 a.m., for crying out loud. We grab the daily offerings from the brunch buffet line and find a spot to sit at an open table.

I take the seat across from Hartley, and his friend grabs the one next to him. He catches me staring at his mysterious friend, clears his throat, and says, “Ryan, this is Violet. Violet, this is Ryan. Keep your hands off my little sis, and we’ll be good as gold.” He throws a french fry in his mouth. He’s so nonchalant, as if he didn’t just treat me like a child and embarrass me again.

“Hartley…” I scowl as I give him my meanest death glare, hopefully shutting him up.

“Don’t worry, you’re not my type,” Ryan snarks.

Ummmm, excuse me? Not his type? Who said he is my type? Why is he so incredibly rude when he doesn’t even know me?

“Ok, totally unnecessary, but what makes you think I would want to date you?” I ask with fiery eyes.

“Just a gut feeling, sweetheart. I don’t date, and you’ve got stage-five clinger written all over your face.” He smirks and takes a long gulp of his water. I try my best not to stare as his throat works the water down.Get it together, Violet.

I hate it, but he’s right. He’s not my type, and I’m not his. I don’t know if I even have a type. I’ve never had a real boyfriend. I’ve kissed a few boys at high school dances, but that’s about it. My friends are usually Hartley’s friends, and he always forbids his teammates to come within ten feet of me. His protective side started when he caught me kissing one of his teammates in high school. I would always wait around at Hartley’s practices until he could drive us home, and it would give me time to get ahead on homework and studying. I had a mega-crush on one of the running backs. We eye-flirted shamelessly in the halls and across the field. One day, hefinallytalked to me. That practice ended with his tongue down my throat and Hartley smashing him against the brick wall. Needless to say, he never spoke to me again. It’s annoying and not his place, but I’ve allowed him to do this for so long that it’s too late to fight him on it.

“Well, you have nothing to worry about,Royce. That was your name wasn’t it? I don’t date football players. Living with Hartley is enough to handle.”Take that.

“My name isRyan, and yeah, it’s kinda weird that you live with your brother.” He shoots back at me with glaring eyes and an “I’m better than you” energy. I choose to ignore him and continue the conversation solely with Hartley.

“Anyways,Hartley, what other classes do you have today?” If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. He really should have learned that long ago.

“I’m headed to Biology, and it's going to suck because I didn’t buy the digital textbook yet,” Hartley groans.

“Hart, you’ve known about the class requirement for months. What the heck? You’re not nervous going to class unprepared?” I couldneverattend a class feeling that unprepared. My pulse races for him. I notice Ryan’s gaze out of the corner of my eye. He’s staring daggers at me. Heat creeps up my neck at the intensity of his eyes on my body.

“He’ll be just fine. You’re wearing Springs U football gear, right?” Ryan asks.Sure, wear Springs U football gear and get preferential treatment.My eyes flash to him with annoyance, my jaw tightening as my teeth clench.

“Are you saying that he should get a pass because he’s a football player?” I ask with passive-aggressive curiosity.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. The minute the professor sees his Springs U football shirt, he won’t question him.” He leans back in his chair with a smug grin. His arms crossing over his chest making his sleeves tighten over his biceps, and I can’t help but stare. His eyes rake down my upper half and halt at my chest for a moment before locking eyes again.

“Some of us don’t have a choice but to be prepared for class. We can’t all be all mighty college football stars.” My voice grows agitated from his blase take on college.

“Chill, sweetheart, you’re wound too tight. If you keep that scowl you’ll develop early wrinkles.” He leans his muscular arms on the table. He’s too close for comfort, and I’m not in the mood to continue arguing with him.

“Well, since it seems you already knowso muchabout me, I think my time at lunch is over.” I give Ryan my best “sorry, not sorry” face.

“I’ve got to go to my next class. See you, Hart.” I hurriedly grab my stuff to get out of the table as quickly as I can. Hartley calls my name as I high-tail out the cafeteria. I went over my class schedule with him before leaving this morning, so he knows I don’t have another class until 2 p.m.

Why was that guy so rude? Does he really treat every girl he encounters like that? Well, Mr. Football can leave me alone from now on. I sure hope Hartley has other friends for us to hang around with because if he doesn’t, this is going to be a long year.

2

Ryan

“Dude, what was that?” Hartley says obnoxiously at me in the dining hall. I sit there stone-faced with my arms crossed over my chest as he flails his hands around in the air.Why is this guy so dramatic?

“What was what? I was being myself. Would you rather me not?” I answer sarcastically because this is who I am. I don’t really care about anything besides football, myself, and making sure my mom is taken care of. Everything else is a distraction.

“Well, tone it down a little with Violet. She’s fragile, very sensitive, and hard on herself. She will probably analyze this ten times before she gets to her next class and stress about it all night.”

I shrug casually. “She seems like she can hold her own,” I say to get a rise out of Hartley. He’s so easy to work up. He grunts and throws his hands in the air again as he leans so far back that he almost falls out of his chair.Ha.

I like when girls are feisty. The way she didn’t back down did something funny to my chest. Not to mention she’s beautiful. I’m talking drop dead gorgeous. She looks different than mostgirls on their first day of college. Her hair was thrown up, but there were these two little pieces that framed her face. That pink shirt paired with tight running shorts hugged her curves in the best way, but the part that stopped me dead in my tracks were those icy blue eyes. Her eyes looked surreal. Most girls at Springs U try too hard with heavy makeup, dresses, the whole nine, and they throw themselves at me like I care.

Violet seemed flustered when we locked eyes in class. She couldn’t look away fast enough to get back to that boring lecture. She would have rathered chat it up with Mr. ‘Try Hard’ Professor than skirt out of class the minute we could. When Hartley started waving like a complete idiot in class, I had no idea that the girl he was waving to would stop me cold in the middle of the lecture hall. People don’t have that effect on me, never did. I can take them or leave them, honestly. I don’t like anyone enough to remember their name or what they look like. Girls are girls. They come around, we hook up, they leave, and I never see them again. If I do, I ignore them because they know what they are getting into with me. I don’t stick around anyone long enough to care, and I don’t do strings, but there I was, staring in class like a fool. Hartley told me his roommate was a freshman, his little sister, someone he would die for because, according to him, they have “been through too much together.” I have my own demons and don’t plan to dig up anyone else’s.

Hartley and I met at summer training camp last year. We were both fresh out of high school on full rides. I knew I couldn’t mess this up. I told myself before coming to college that I wasn’t here to make friends, but that fool has a way of creeping into your life and staying. He would not leave me alone. He asked questions about football and asked me to hang out with him constantly. He always forgot his practice gear, so I started packing extra for him. I was overly prepared. He was underprepared. Clearly, he didn’t take college football as seriously as me. One night, after along and grueling practice, I finally caved and went downtown with him. We both found out that night that none of the downtown bars ID. It didn’t matter to me. I don’t drink in public, but he drank too much and did not stop dancing the entire night. At 2 a.m., I had to bribe him to leave the bar alone with leftover pizza at my apartment. After carrying his dead weight up two flights of stairs, we ate cold pizza, and the rest is history. He hasn’t left my side since. He’s an idiot, but I’m stuck with him. None of it matters. He doesn’t have to worry about me and his roommate. I made it a point to push Violet away when I met her at lunch, and I’ll do it again if I have to. Making a play on my teammate’s little sister isn’t in the cards because a face like hers spells out too much trouble.

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