Page 48 of Scoring the Player
“What happened to ‘it’s new and not that serious’?” Teddy asks from my other side. Damn these guys are chatty this morning.
“It’s not,” I say, as we get close to the weight room. “It was late, so I crashed there.”
* * *
Coach has a special kind of torture waiting for us this morning. Occasionally he likes to mix things up and it always sucks a giant, hairy cock. Today, instead of lifting heavy in our usual routine, he throws a high intensity interval workout in for funsies. No one has fun. Except maybe him. Jump rope and burpees in between every set of bench press and squats. Fuuuuck. The only positive is the guys are too winded to keep questioning me about Dahlia.
The rest of my day doesn’t really improve. I fall asleep in my European Modernism class and then run into Bethany in University Hall on my way to get a coffee to stay awake for my next class. I was able to avoid her before she tried to talk to me, but seeing her still just strikes a nerve.
One more class, practice, a mandatory team study hour, a shower, and a glorious nap later, I’m ready to go out. A thrum of something I can’t quite pinpoint hums just below the surface. Annoyance or frustration. I can’t put my finger on it, but I need a night to really cut loose.
The baseball team is having a party tonight. The party is at Lambda Chi since their off-campus house was condemned last year. A lot of the baseball guys are a part of that fraternity.
“Twenty bucks for a cup or ten if you agree to participate in the other festivities.” A young guy, a freshman by the looks of him, recites like he’s done it a hundred times already tonight.
“Festivities?” I ask as I pull out my wallet.
“Kissing booth,” he says.
I feel both brows rise. “Seriously?”
Lucas snorts. “I’m totally in.”
The kid looks back to me.
“No way.”
He continues on, unphased, “Tickets for the booth are one dollar or six for five. There’s another table inside if you change your mind.”
“I’m good,” I say.
We pay and head inside. Both of us with a pink cup for the keg and Lucas with a wristband and a time slot to work the kissing booth.
“Six kisses for five dollars?” I smirk at Lucas. “You’re the cheapest date ever.”
“But think of how much action I’m going to get tonight.” He straightens. “I need to find someone with a breath mint or some gum.”
“You’re crazy, man,” I tell him as we fill up our cups.
The kissing booth is hard to miss. It’s dead center of the party. There are two people sitting on stools—a guy on one side and a girl on the other. A line of people snakes around the yard with people already waiting. And everyone else is gathered around to watch. It’s like these people don’t know they can just kiss for free. Or go home and watch porn.
“Hey, not everyone has a Dahlia. You’re lucky. Uncomplicated but still all the benefits. Plus, she’s cool as hell.”
That thrumming under my skin intensifies.
“Oh, speaking of, there she is.” He nods his head, and I follow his line of sight to see her walking in with Jane. Her eyes are glued on the kissing booth. I quickly glance to the people currently kissing and chuckle. Most people have done a closed mouth sort of lingering peck. Lips smashed together for three to five seconds. But one couple is really going at it. They’re full on making out, and when I look back at Dahlia, her eyes are wide, and her cheeks are flushed.
“You think she took a time slot?” Lucas asks with a taunting smile.
“Fuck off,” I toss over my shoulder as I head toward her.
“Hey, you guys made it,” I say when I get to them. I’m relieved to see that Dahlia isn’t wearing a wristband and I don’t see any tickets in her hand. Jane, on the other hand, has one ticket pinched between her thumb and pointer finger.
“Just one?” I ask Jane as I take Dahlia’s free hand and interlace our fingers.
“One is all I need tonight. I have my eye on this guy that lives here and rumor has it all the Lambda Chi guys had to take a slot.” Jane makes a noise that’s something between a squeal and giggle. “I’m going to see if I can find him.”
With a wave, she’s gone and I’m alone with Dahlia.
