Page 39 of Player
PLAYER
The advantageof being on a college football team is getting invited to all the parties, even the most exclusive ones. Though you can't really say the Delta Tau party is exclusive. Quite the opposite actually, anyone can come and have a good time.
As soon as I walk into the kitchen, which seems to be the nerve center, or drink center most likely, of the party, someone calls out to me, "Hey, Player! The man of the week is joining us, guys!"
The guy who just spoke to me is a stranger, but he seems to know who I am. Then again, after last night’s game, the entire campus probably knows me.
A crowd forms around me and the exclamations fly. "You're a fucking genius with the ball, man!"
"I've never seen a motherfucker dive like that before, it was incredible..."
They're all soaked in alcohol, probably the same stuff they're pouring in generous amounts into red cups before passing them around.
For a moment, I think that getting wasted might help me forget the troubles I'm in, particularly chasing away my father'sshadow that constantly hovers over me like a bird of ill omen. But I've tried that method before, and it only brought me more problems. No, I can't let myself hope for easy ways to escape my life.
Without warning, Alabama's image flashes through my mind. I see the expression on her face from when I practically insulted her. Why won’t her ghost leave me alone, even here?
"Want something to drink?" offers the guy who greeted me. "We've got everything you want, tequila, rum, vodka, whiskey. What would you like?"
"Surprise me," I say after a moment's hesitation.
My response clearly delights him, as an enormous smile stretches across his face. His eyes twinkle, then he turns to one of his buddies. "Marley! Serve your specialty for our Player! And don't skimp, fill that fucker up! We owe him!"
As usual, I feel like a stranger in my own life. The electric atmosphere filling the big house doesn't reach me. Sometimes I feel like I'm dead inside. Besides the familiar anger, I'm not capable of feeling much—no guilt, no regret, not much joy either, except on the field.
An emotional cripple...
A cup materializes before my eyes and I don't hesitate to down it in one go. Fuck! It's intense, and I’m going to be fucked in about twenty minutes I suspect.
"What's in this?" I ask after coughing once. That had to be a full ass cup of eighty proof at a minimum.
The guy named Marley gives me a conspiratorial wink. "Trade secret, my man. It's my house cocktail."
"You'll see, the second one tastes better," explains the guy who welcomed me when I arrived, whose name I still don't know. I'm not here to make friends, so I don't bother asking him. Anyway, I only dream of one thing, leaving this fucking collegeto regain my freedom. Making connections with other students certainly won't help me achieve that.
"Want another?" Marley offers.
I answer with a nod, probably a stupid decision, and a few seconds later, I'm handed another full cup. I gulp it down in a few swigs before leaving the kitchen to look around. Not that I'm particularly interested in touring the place, but since I'm here, I might as well see who's at the party tonight.
I quickly realize that almost all the Jaguars are here. I spot Emery with a girl sitting on each knee. He flashes me a goofy smile, in horndog heaven. "Player! How's it going?"
"Yeah..."
My friend doesn't pay attention to my response because one of his "friends" leans over to whisper something in his ear. Judging by his reaction, Emery is more than willing.
I catch a few female glances directed at me, and it wouldn't take much effort to leave with company tonight, but I have no desire for that. All these girls know nothing about life, they don't even know the positions that would make them come if we had sex. No, I have zero interest in that kind of innocent little thing.
A familiar face catches my attention briefly before the crowd swallows it. I frown. Dixie is here.
Without understanding why this idea bothers me, I walk in the direction where I spotted her. I pass a window just as lightning illuminates the landscape outside. Once again, rain isn't far off. Good, it matches my mood.
I wander around the ground floor with no specific purpose. Well, I am wondering where Alabama disappeared to. I reach the imposing staircase that leads to the upper floors, and the thought crosses my mind that she may have followed some fratboy to his room.
This possibility doesn't improve my mood, which shiftsfrom dark to murderous. I shake my head, refusing to believe my own thoughts. I don't give a fuck what Alabama does with her ass!
Yeah, except if she's sleeping with another guy, it's like I've lost the game. I want her thinking only of me, wanting to fuck me, not some Delta Tau asshole. I'm about to climb the stairs when I spot her not far away. I don't know if she senses my presence, but she turns her head in my direction and our eyes meet.
Outside, the storm breaks, rain starts falling, hurling torrents of water against the window. The panes tremble when thunder rumbles and lightning strikes nearby. The lights flicker.
