Rush and I couldn’t look any more different if we tried. He looks like a tall, dark, viking warrior complete with intricate tattoo sleeves and I look like a less glamorous, leggy version of the actress Zendaya but with a bigger butt. The only thing similar about us is that we’re both taller than this clucker.
“I guess not,” the woman scoffs. “Just thought I’d ask. You never know.”
“You want a selfie or something?” Rush hurries her. “Because I’m trying to have a drink with my friend here.”
“I’d love a picture!” She gushes excitedly.
She snuggles close into Rush’s enormous body and holds her phone high up in the air to catch the selfie. She taps and holds the button so she can capture a series of shots.
“Thank you so much and have a good evening with your… friend here.”
I plaster on the fakest of smiles.
“Nighty-night,” I sing-song.
Rush punts my good leg under the table.
“Really!” I bark back. “You know I have a bum knee.”
“I kicked the good leg, and I didn’t even do it that hard. I toe tapped you.”
“You’re a professional football player. Everything you do is hard.”
I’m exaggerating, of course. Rush would never hurt me, even by accident.
“I wasn’t close enough to pinch your ass so a boot in the shin is the next best thing.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t pinch me. The last time you did that, you left a mark on my butt that my ex swore was something sexual.”
“Your dudes are always so insecure.” Rush lets out a low laugh. “That last one was a real dummy.”
“You don’t like anyone I date.”
“Uh, I think that’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Ha, ha.” I fake laugh. “None of the women you date can be taken seriously, so of course I don’t like them.”
I mimic them.
“Oh, Rush, your arms are so big. Oh, Rush, you’re so amazing on the field. Oh, Rush, let’s fuck each other right in the middle of this bar.”
I stick a finger in my mouth to mimic the act of me vomiting. It just makes him laugh even more, which is basically the point of why I do it. Rush doesn’t laugh much in public, so when he gives himself permission to let his guard down and I’m the one responsible for it, I relish those moments even more.
“Nobody talks like that, Mia. You sound like a ten-year-old child.”
“Exactly my point. That’s how they all sound. Their voices get all pitchy and breathy and ridiculous sounding, and I’m sure it gets a lot more pornographic when I’m not around.”
“Bird, you’ve got to stop treating the fans like this. It’s so out of character for you to be so… distrustful.”
“That’s what we’re calling them now? Fans?”
Someone in management notices that the most popular tight end in the game is here and sends a server over to offer us a complimentary bottle for the table. It’s just one perk of rolling with my bestie. I select a bottle of vodka and Rush orders a carafe of cranberry juice.
“You were supposed to order a bottle of wine. You’re never going to finish an entire bottle of vodka and it’s not like we can take it with us.” He shakes his head. “Just mix the cranberry juice with it.”
“I don’t have to go to work tomorrow or ever again.” I throw my hands up. “So why shouldn’t I drink the damn whole thing?”
“Just don’t.”
