“Well, that was pretty much a miracle pass,” Cash says,which is generous coming from him. He usually prefers to divert all Saturday-night football talk toward his own glowing performance.
Cam nods. “That pass might have been your ticket to the Heisman.”
“Yeah?” Not that I haven’t been thinking the same thing all afternoon, but Cam’s not usually one for sweeping predictions.
“That was the play of the season. You know how many highlight reels you’re going to star in from now until next fall?”
I wait for the quick high this kind of compliment usually delivers, but it never comes.
“This boy’s head is way past Heisman season,” Cash says with a knowing grin. “He’s already moved on to the pros, baby. And all the cash and free pussy that comes with it.”
I laugh. Not because he’s right but because this is our stupid tradition and I’m just realizing how meaningless it feels.
A little arrogance—or, in my case, a lot—is pretty much a prerequisite on our team. But our pro football futures are one thing we don’t brag about openly. Maybe it’s just athlete superstition, but it felt like tempting fate. Only when we were super drunk or super pissed at a coach or super exhausted by yet another grueling hour of running or lifting did we let a little of that talk come out, and only among the few of us who were pretty sure we had a future beyond college ball.
We used to talk about the cars we’d buy. The new houses we’d pick out for our moms. How many rooms our mansions would have. Which models and actresses we’d fuck. These fantasies kept us going because we knew they weren’t just fantasies. This shit happens to real people, and we were among the lucky few. Unbelievable shit that we could actually believe in.
Now I’m closer than ever and the fantasies aren’t doing it for me anymore. What do I need a twelve-bedroom house for ifI’m sleeping alone? What can a supermodel do for me that my own girlfriend—I still get high off that word—can’t? Nobody compares to Jade. Without her next to me, the future I always wanted looks empty.
This thing with her has thrown me completely. Being with Jade is like being on a roller coaster: I’m terrified, I have no control, and it all feels amazing.
“Where’s your girl tonight?” Lorenzo asks like he’s reading my mind.
“Working.”
“You two are for real now, I hear. Never thought I’d see the day you’d tie yourself to one chick.”
I smirk. Neither did I. I haven’t had a girlfriend in so many years, and I was dead certain I wouldn’t anytime soon.
“He doesn’t have to tie up for long,” Cash says. “She’s moving away to Europe, isn’t she?”
“She might not go,” I say without thinking.
Cam stares at me but stays quiet.
“She’s thinking of staying?” Cash asks. “For your ass?”
“I don’t know. Just something she’s toying with.”
Ever since she mentioned not going to Spain the other day, this idea’s been floating around in the back of my head, and I’ve tried to keep it there. Maybe she was just being cute and it meant nothing, but now that I’ve said it out loud, it feels real. Jade’s thinking of staying for me.
That scares me, and it also feels like the one thing that could save me.
“Sorry I’m late,”I tell Jade Thursday night when I walk into the pizza place we agreed to meet at fifteen minutes late. “I had to spend a little time with the trainer after practice. My shoulder’sacting up again.” I don’t mention the time I wasted listening to my friends give me shit for missing our usual Thursday-night dinner at Viaggio’s so I can eat with Jade before I head out of town for Saturday’s game.
“That’s okay.” She lays a careful hand on my arm and kisses me. All the tension in my muscles melts. “Are you all right?” Her voice is a soft, gentle tone I rarely hear out of Jade.
“I am now.”
She smiles. I’ll never get tired of seeing the sweetness under all her hard edges. “Are you still starting Saturday?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. Still planning on killing it on the field.” I wink. “Too bad I won’t have my good-luck charm in the stands.”
“They should really make room for girlfriends on those fancy chartered flights.” She reaches for my hand. “Now let’s find a table. I already ordered at the counter.”
She looks so pretty tonight. Her hair is up in a ponytail that’s come loose, so her face is framed by wisps and tendrils of pink and strawberry-blond strands. Her jeans are skintight as always, but her pale-pink sweater hangs loose on one shoulder, showing off her delicate collarbones and a tangle of fine gold necklaces. As she leads me to a table, every guy in the place turns to look at her, but I don’t care because I’m staring, too, and Jade is all mine.
Tension creeps back into my shoulders as I remember what I need to say to her. I told myself that if she brings up Spanish or Spain or even says the wordtacowith the slightest hint of accent, I’m going to tell her she’s right to reconsider her plans. Whether I’ll find the balls to actually do it and risk her rejection? That’s another story. But I don’t want to carry this question in my head any longer. Tomorrow the team flies to Ohio for Saturday’s game, so I won’t see Jade until Saturday night at the earliest.
