Page 2 of Totally Played
“So what does it rate, then?” I ask.
He steps out of the bathroom wearing tight black jeans, a pink netted singlet, and the black leather jacket we bought in senior year. The leather is soft from wear and fits perfectly, even after seven years.
“If you’re on time, clean, can hold a conversation, friendly, all that shit.”
“So it’s basically checking to make sure you’re not an asshole?”
“Exactly, but you start at a two and have to work your way up, proving yourself with other twos until you move up in score. You can only see the profiles of others at your score or one up, or below. The guy tonight is a four, so if he rates me well, I should get enough points to move up to a four, too.”
“This seems like a lot of work.”
“Not really. Takes more time to order a ride home.”
“You call me to pick you up.”
“Exactly, and you sleep like the dead. Why are you in sweats?”
“I’m just going to hang here tonight. We’ve got warm-up early tomorrow.”
“So do we.”
“So maybe you should stay in, too?”
He scoffs and fiddles with his hair some more in the hall mirror, then grabs the keys to our shared green Honda Civic.
“I’ll drive myself tonight. Let you get your beauty sleep.”
“Be good.”
“Be evil,” he replies, closing the door behind him.
***
I kick the side of Tony’s bed; the naked ass of Mr. Number Four starts to roll, and I grab the sheet quickly and toss it over before I get an eyeful.
“Tony, I’m leaving in five minutes. Get your ass up,” I say, kicking the bed again.
He finally stirs, yawning and scrubbing his eyes with his hands.
“What time is it?”
“Seven. Come on, we’re due at the field in twenty.”
“Then I have fifteen more minutes,” Tony replies, hugging his pillow on his side with a grin.
Mr. Number Four rolls over to spoon him and then he spots me. He does a double take and leaps from the bed. I cover my eyes with one hand before I see too much.
“You’re…but you’re… what?”
“Kyle, meet my younger—”
“Older,” I immediately interject.
“Annoying,” Tony continues, “brother, Calvin. Calvin, this is Kyle.”
“Lyle,” he corrects, grabbing a pair of blue jeans on the floor and pulling them on. “Nice to meet you, umm, I should be going. Thanks for last night, it was…fun,” Lyle says, and then he’s out the door.
I kick the bed again.
