Page 25 of The Tip-Off
“Hello.” I wave at my best friend’s boyfriend. They’re too cute together.
“Heard you left Stephens in quite the predicament last night.”
My cheeks burn with a mixture of pride and embarrassment for poor Stephens. Blair shoots Wes a confused glance and he fills her in.
“Noooo!” Her eyes go wide as he gets to the end of the story, which he recites with surprising accuracy considering he heard it secondhand. “How did they know it was you?”
“You know I have a terrible poker face.”
She nods. “You really do.”
“Anyway, Zeke and I had to make an emergency run to the store for toilet paper and beer. I probably have to steer clear of the baseball house for a few days. Good thing Stephens graduates this year. I’m permanently on his shit list.”
Wes chuckles. “Shit list.”
* * *
I head to the Valley student workout facility, which is conveniently located in Ray Fieldhouse – the same facility all the student-athletes use. They have their own fancier, from what I’m told, workout room, but there’s always jocks roaming around the building, so it’s extra motivation to hit the gym a few times a week.
After the accident, I had to do a lot of therapy – physical and mental – and keeping up with it has become an important part of my progress.
Today I’m here for another reason and it has to do with progressing my social health. I need to get out more – meet new people and not rely on Blair and her social circle. Don’t get me wrong, I love hanging with her crowd, but aside from Nathan, they don’t feel like my friends yet.
With Nathan on my mind, I decide to check in with him as I warm up on the stair stepper.
Me: Hey, party animal, you alive?
Nathan: Barely. Sorry about last night. Heard you had fun though.
Me: You’re forgiven, but you owe me.
Nathan: Done. What are you doing today?
Me: Working tonight.
Nathan: Cool. Wanna hang after?
Me: Maybe. I’ll text you when I get off and see if you’re awake.
Nathan: I’ll be awake.
I do cardio and then wander around the free weights section, eavesdropping on the conversations around me. Two girls are doing sit-ups side by side.
“Wallace totally likes you. I think he’s just shy,” the girl on the right, a busty redhead with her hair in two long braids says as she pauses at the top of her exercise.
Her friend looks around before asking, “Do you think Madison is more his type? I overheard her talking about how he liked her last selfie.”
“Please. Madison is an Insta ho. If you posted pictures where the only thing covering your body was a strategically placed Anatomy textbook, he’d be liking your posts, too.”
Note to self, find this Madison’s profile. Even I’m intrigued, I can hardly blame poor Wallace.
I have my nicest ‘please friend me’ smile on as I continue to mosey through the gym. Look, I know other people have already coupled off and friended up, but can’t they see the “Friends Wanted” sign flashing above my head? Why is making friends so hard?
A group of girls in purple Tri Sigma shirts walk through the gym, making everyone turn and watch. They’ve got that, ‘we know we’re hot walk’ down pat. I wonder if they can teach me that walk or if it’s like a secret handshake only for members.
The girl in the front of the pack is bouncing with every step, her ponytail swinging from side to side. “Join us outside in fifteen minutes for our monthly fitness class. Don’t let spring break throw you off your fitness goals!” she shouts as they exit the room.
I check my reflection in the mirror above the weights and adjust my ponytail. Turning my face to the side, I pull a few wisps forward to help cover the scars. Head held high and with a confidence that is completely fake, I walk out of the weight room and head toward the student-athlete only section. I need to go to that fitness class. I’m certain I can find a new friend out there, but there’s only one way I’m going and that’s with backup.
