Page 10 of Scoring the Player
Nodding, I can’t help but smile. She really has no idea how much I dig her.
“And you tracked me down, just to make sureI’mokay? The girl who said she wanted to climb you like a tree.” Her face scrunches up adorably. “Not my classiest moment.”
“You could have said I was ugly, and you’d rather ride a cactus than me, and I’d still have been hanging on your every word. It’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk. Until now. You have a nice voice.”
She holds my stare, a slight smile on her lips. She has really nice lips. Her top lip is as full as her bottom one and makes a perfect heart shape.
I’m still just staring at her, trying to figure out how to proceed in a way that doesn’t scare her off, when the emergency responders announce their presence.
Dahlia and I both scramble to our feet. It’s only a minute or two until they have the doors open and are helping us out. It all feels very anticlimactic as we exit the building. The break between classes is long over and very few people are walking around campus.
“Do you have a class you need to get to?” I ask, squinting in the sunlight.
“Not until ten,” she says. “I was going to go home and hide until then.”
“I’m really sorry. Let me walk you.” I should head straight to my econ class, but I’m already late, so there’s no use in hurrying now. Besides, this way if anyone so much as smiles in her direction, I can kick their ass. I need to find Bethany later. The damage is done, but at the very least, I want her to know this is the worst possible way to get my attention and win me back.
Even if I wanted to get back with Bethany, which I absolutely don’t, I’m not into this petty shit.
“You don’t need to keep apologizing.” Dahlia lifts her shoulder in a small shrug, but then comes to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Her voice lowers as she continues, “I wanted this year to be different and I guess it is. I should have been more specific in my wish.”
“Wish?”
She blushes and looks away. “Last night before we went out, my roommates and I did this thing where you write down a wish on a piece of paper and then light it on fire. Burning it is supposed to represent giving it to the universe, or something like that. Obviously, the universe has a sense of humor.”
“And you wished for this year to be different? Different how?”
She’s quiet for a few beats. A breeze blows her long hair into her face. “I wanted to go to parties and not feel awkward, talk to guys without freezing up, be wild and spontaneous and all the other things everyone else seems to do without any problem. I don’t expect you to understand.”
I do understand, or at least I’m trying to. She’s pretty and sweet. She’s a talented designer. I know because she won some design competition last year. And I’ve met her friends. They all seem fun and nice, so all signs point to her being a cool chick.
She seems so different from the girls I usually date. Or mess around with, since I have zero interest in anything beyond hooking up. Not since Bethany and not until after graduation. Football is my focus this year. It’s my final chance to prove my worth to NFL teams, and I’m not screwing it up. I’ve worked too damn hard. Still, I find myself wanting to know more about Dahlia and to spend more time with her.
“Are you going to The White House tonight?” I ask, looking for a safe topic and, okay, yeah, an excuse to see her again.
“I was planning on it, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea anymore.”
“You should go. Don’t let a few jerks stop you from doing what you want. And I’ll be there. We can hang. No one will say anything. I promise.” I might need to enforce some sort of gag clause on my teammates. They wouldn’t mean to be assholes (or most of them wouldn’t anyway), but tearing each other down is ninety-percent of our daily conversations.
“Thanks, but I don’t think so.” She lifts one hand in a small wave and then leaves me staring at her back as she walks away. Well, shit. Fuck me very much, I think she just blew me off.
* * *
When I get home from practice, I go straight to the fridge for a beer. The day did not improve after I saw Dahlia. Classes were boring and practice was brutal. This week, Coach has us divided up into groups, working with the assistant coaches on role-specific drills. Which means I had to spend two hours with Armstrong. I can’t see him without thinking of Bethany, and well…two hours later, I’m ready to drink.
“Grab me one of those,” Lucas calls as he steps into the living room, pulling on a clean T-shirt. He has to duck under the archway that leads from his bedroom to the main living and dining area.
It’s a small, older house with low ceilings, small closets, and a smell in the kitchen that none of us have been able to identify. It wasn’t designed for three big dudes, but it’s close to campus and only a block away from the practice field. We’ve been living here together since sophomore year.
I toss him a cold one at the same time Teddy comes from the opposite side of the house, my sister trailing behind him.
“You look like crap,” Holly says as we all move into the living room.
“Aww, thanks, little sis.” My tone is dry as I ruffle her hair and plop down onto the couch with my beer.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s such a Holly response. I have two sisters, Holly and Stella. They’re twins, two years younger than me, and their favorite pastime is ganging up on me. Holly is shy, quiet, and considerate. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Stella is her opposite. Instead of apologizing, she’d be piling on if she were here.
