“—we’re going to have to throw our own draft party so we can watch you get picked up. It’ll be set up in the gym. We have a huge projector to use, and we ordered a hundred of these to cheer with,” Lane says.
“What if I don’t get picked up?” I ask, frowning. This is a lot of pressure. “Then you’ve wasted your money.”
Wulfe shoves me. “Supporting our friends is never a waste of money. As far as we’re concerned, you’ve already succeeded. You’re the only one who’s actually been invited to attend the draft in person this year. You’re already a winner, Skeet.”
Yeah, I don’t know…
“It’s a big deal. You should be proud of yourself. You’ve worked so hard.”
I nod. “I have. But even being invited isn’t a guarantee.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re not going to be here chanting and cheering for you. Sending good vibes, positive energy, prayers if they’re into that, and massive football juju. You’re going to be on TV, and we’re going to sit here screaming that you’re our bestie,” Wulfe says.
I’m not excited about being on television. There are networks that cover college football, but I’ve been fortunate not to haveever had to talk to a reporter. I don’t imagine it’s happenstance. If I were to guess, Coach doesn’t call me forward purposely.
I tend to sound like a blundering idiot when I’m nervous. Being in front of a camera talking to a stranger? That’s the recipe for nerves.
There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since being invited that Kendrick and I haven’t talked about his coming with me. It’s only been a handful of days, but we talk about it often. I want him to be with me so damn badly. He wants to be there too. But we’re kind of at an impasse because there’s no way it won’t at least be hinted at that there’s something going on.
My phone ringing jars me from my thoughts, and I reach for it. The caller ID says Rainbow Dorset Univ… “Huh,” I say and meet Lane’s eyes as I answer. “Hello?”
“Mr. Skeeter?”
“Yes? This is Brevan?” I try to swallow my nerves so that everything I say doesn’t come out as a question.
“Hello, Mr. Skeeter. This is Marny from Human Resources. How are you today?”
My breath catches, and I turn to stare at Lane. Why is Human Resources calling me? “I’m good, I think. How are you?”
“Very good. Thank you. How does your schedule look this afternoon, Mr. Skeeter? Are you booked with classes or football? Clubs?”
“No, Ma’am. I’m just studying?”
“Are you available for a meeting this afternoon?”
Okay, now I can’t breathe. “Am I in trouble?”
Lane and Wulfe lean forward at my question, concern on their faces.
“Not at all, Mr. Skeeter.”
“Then… why do I need to have a meeting with Human Resources?”
“Please understand that our top priority is your safety and confidentiality, so some conversations cannot be had over the phone. You’re not in trouble. This concerns your recent interactions with some members of the faculty, so we’d like to have a conversation with you.”
“Oh.” That’s not bad, right? I chew the inside of my lip. “Okay. Sure.”
“Are you available for one? In ten minutes?”
“Yeah. I can be there for one.”
“Okay, Mr. Skeeter. We’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks.” I end the call and look between my friends.
“What happened? What was that about?” Lane asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Recent interactions with members of the faculty? They said I’m not in trouble, though.” I’m still nervous. My hands are practically shaking.
