She rested her chin on her knees. “Do you have to be on scholarship to be a starter?”
“No. But usually the guys who earn scholarships are starter caliber when they show up to play. Some guys, like my roommate Danny Chambers, are walk-ons who earn their scholarships by their work in practice that elevates them on game day.”
“He’s on scholarship too?”
“Not yet, but if he keeps catching everything Patty throws at him the way he has been, I have no doubt Coach will find some money for him.”
“What about your other roommates?”
For once I thought first and talked second, toning down my pride in my buddies and me by softening my voice and showing some humility. “Yeah, we all worked hard in high school and keep challenging each other every day in practice.”
“Must be tough to do well in school when you put in all that time for football,” she mused.
That comment forced me to show off. “We have a standing academic competition in this house.”
“Yeah?” She grinned.
“Anyone who finishes a semester with less than a 3.5 GPA has to do everyone else’s laundry for the next semester. So far we’re all still doing our own.”
“Now that’s impressive. Yet you have the energy to throw ragers after you win games. Who cleans up afterward?” She dropped her feet back to the deck and hugged her arms around herself.
“We take turns. This week is ’Han’s turn. Which is probably why he’s hanging out in the kitchen making sure Fitz doesn’t overserve anyone.” Nodding toward where she rubbed her hands over her upper arms, I said, “You look like you need to warm up.” Smiling, I added, “My offer to share the chair is still on the table.”
With an answering smile that gave me a shot of adrenaline, she opened her mouth to say something, but a commotion erupted in the foyer and spilled out onto the porch.
In football, especially on defense, timing is everything. If someone even so much as twitches before the center hikes the ball, the refs will call something. If the guy who moved early is on the offense, the refs will call a false start. If the guy moving is on defense, the refs will call offsides. Unfortunately, the refs call me for offsides at least once a game.
Take the night we met. Things with Chessly were moving in the right direction...but then Tory Miller showed up. One look at who was behind all that caterwauling assaulting our conversation told me my plans for the rest of the evening were in serious jeopardy.
“Finn said we could come. You can’t kick us out just because that bitch Jamaica Winslow is here!” Tory screeched as Johnny Henderson, our buddy from the wrestling team, bounced her and her friends from the party.
Spying me across the porch, Tory switched up her tactics. “Finn! Tell this Neanderthal you invited us.” She took two steps in my direction and caught sight of Chessly seated on the lawn chair. “You! What are you doing here? You have no business here!” Planting her hands on her hips, she added, “These aren’t your people.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Throwing a tantrum as usual, huh, Tory? You’re kind of a slow learner.” Chessly’s modulated voice contrasted Tory’s strident tones, inviting me to move closer to Chess.
“Finn! You can’t be serious. This person”—she wrinkled her nose as she nodded at Chessly—“is so far beneath you.” Glancing around at where we were, she added, “And no fun at all. I mean, she’s dragged you away from your own party.”
“Tory, you need to go before the neighbors complain.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I clocked the subtle shake of Chessly’s pretty blonde head, and I figured out my mistake at about the same time as Tory lit into me at the top of her voice.
“What is wrong with you, Finn McCabe? Have you completely lost your mind?” she shouted.
Johnny stepped out the front door. “Everything all right here, Finn? Need some help?”
Before I could open my mouth, Chessly said, “I think I’ll head inside, warm up, maybe grab another beer.” She aimed that last part directly at Tory.
When it came to women, I might be a little slow on the uptake, but even I could figure out Chessly taunted Tory with her parting comment.
Gracefully, she stood and walked purposefully toward Johnny who was standing in the open front door to the house. Tory stood between Chessly and her destination, and a flash of disaster lit up my brain. Before the two women had the chance to face off, I stepped between them.
“I’ll join you.”
Chessly glanced over her shoulder, her expression hard to read with the porch light behind her, shadowing her face. “You don’t have to.”
“That’s right, Finn. You don’t have to spend time with white trash from the middle-of-nowhere Montana.” Twirling a long curl falling over her shoulder, Tory’s whole demeanor changed. “You can stay out here with us. I’m sure we can keep you entertained.”
The faces of the little troupe of girls standing behind her ranged from worried to speculative. All of them made me nervous.
