As we stood in the showers afterward, Callahan said, “Coach naming you a starter fired you up, huh?” With a grin he stuck his fist out for me to bump. “If you block like that on Saturday, Tarvi’s going to buy you steak for dinner.”
“I’m going to do what?” the man in question asked as he stepped under the spray on the other side of ’Han.
“Thank Danny for opening holes in the D-line as big as the ones I give you to run through.” Callahan’s laughter echoed in the tiled showers.
“Damn, son. I don’t know what got into you out there this morning, but I’m fucking jacked to have you on my side of the line,” Tarvi said, grinning.
With a nod, I said, “Thanks. It’s fun to play with men who have each other’s backs.”
“As opposed to...?” Callahan let the question hang.
“As opposed to assholes who bully their teammates into letting them have their way on the field—and off.” I stepped under the spray and let the hot water sluice soap off my body. Bracing my hands on the wall, I soaked up the pounding heat over my neck and shoulders, willing the shower to drain away some of the tension I couldn’t seem to shake.
“What’s the story there, Danny?” Callahan asked.
Years of moving from town to town, school to school, had taught me to guard my thoughts, but Callahan was my roommate—someone who didn’t need to offer me a place to live and had offered anyway. After living with him for months and seeing him in action on and off the field, I’d figured out he was good people—someone I could trust. Tarvi had mine and Taryn’s number right out of the gate, even before we finally escalated our friendship into the more we’d both been wanting for forever. I could trust these guys.
“The QB of the last high-school team I played on set all the rules, especially off the field. I wanted to catch passes on Friday nights, so I played by his sucky rules.” I shut the water off and grabbed my towel. “Taryn could have been—shouldhave been—mine in high school. Instead I friend-zoned her because Watson had a hard-on for her even though she’d shot him down for years.” After drying off, I wrapped the towel around my waist. “Yesterday when she went home to see her parents, he showed up to give her a hard time. Somehow he always knows when she’s in town, and he never stops coming at her.” I tossed my towel on the bench, pulled on my boxers and jeans, and sat to put on my socks.
“Sounds like the guy’s a little obsessed,” Callahan said as he sat on the bench beside me.
“Sounds like you need to watch out for your girl,” Tarvi added from where he stood in front of his locker.
“The thing is”—I pulled my T-shirt over my head—“he never really liked her. I think she’s just the one notch from high school he has left on his bedpost, you know? He slept with every popular girl in school except for her.” I shoved my feet into my boots and bent to lace them up. “I heard rumors that some of those girls said no and he ignored them, took what he wanted anyway, but none of them ever said anything publicly.” A picture of him sneering at my girl on her front lawn last summer slipped into my head.
“Hey, buddy, relax. We aren’t going back out on the field until tomorrow,” Callahan said.
When I shot him a quizzical look, he glanced down at my hands and back to my face. Only then did I clue in that my hands hurt from flexing my fists.
“T said something about Watson getting kicked off the team at Wyoming because of rumors about his behavior with women. Guess I’ve been thinking about that since she texted last night.”
“Wait. Are you talking about Derek Watson? The heavily recruited quarterback who washed out?” Callahan asked as he stood and pulled his MSC hoodie over his head. “My friend Jamal Smith-Greene who plays D-end for the Pokes said no one on the team could stand the guy. Said he was a total prick at parties and couldn’t lead on the field to save his ass.”
“That’s the guy,” I said as I picked up our three towels and walked them over to the used towels bin. I may have been starting this weekend, and I may have been the same age as my teammates, but I was still a freshman who understood my place in the team’s hierarchy.
“No wonder you were taking it out on the second team today.” Tarvi gave me a love tap across the back of my jeans with his towel. “Don’t worry, dude. We’ll make sure none of them spits in your mashed potatoes at dinner today.”
I shot him a sneer, and he laughed his infectious Tarvarius laugh as the three of us headed out of the locker room to meet our teammates in the gym. Alums and team moms had set up Thanksgiving lunch for us, and in spite of my bad mood, my stomach rumbled at the thought of turkey, dressing, and all the rest.
As we walked the short distance across campus, Callahan asked, “Is your girl coming back for the game, or are you going to be worrying about her all weekend?”
I couldn’t miss the concern in his tone. After the way he’d fucked up in a game earlier this season when things weren’t going well with his girlfriend, I understood what he was truly asking.
“She’s going to be with her family all day today. Tomorrow she’s going shopping and to the Christmas parade with her sisters, then she’s headed up here. She promised to let me know when she’s back.”
“You know you gotta be at the field by ten ready to go, yeah?” he asked.
“Don’t worry.” I grinned. “I’m not fucking up my first start.” Sobering, I said, “Thanks for letting me get all that off my chest. She’s going to be fine from now until I see her again. It just pissed me off that asshole thinks he can harass her whenever she’s home.”
“If he ever shows his face here, we’ll get Bax and Finn to mess him up,” Tarvi said, his eyes dancing.
“Why wouldn’t I do that myself?”
His eyes rolled in his head, then he held up his hands. “Because skill guys have to keep these babies safe. You can’t waste them on messing someone up—even someone who clearly needs it as much as your old teammate.”
The second Callahan opened the door to the gym, the heavenly aromas of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin spice assailed our senses. Tarvi stopped and cracked us up as he closed his eyes and went up on his toes to breathe in the richly scented air. Any second he’d lift off like some old-timey cartoon character and float away on the smells wafting into the foyer from the gym floor.
As a group of linemen stepped through the doors behind us, we didn’t waste any time hustling to where we’d find the food. When we walked into the gym proper, we saw rows of tables starting to fill with teammates who’d showered and dressed a hell of a lot faster than we had. Along one outside wall, serving tables stretched for half the length of the floor. People behind them were joking and laughing with the players who lined the serving side as they loaded plates with all manner of mouthwatering Thanksgiving treats.
