“Super interesting name. Can’t say I’ve met a Radcliffe before. Are you one of those people who has two last names?” I asked.
“Like, Jones Fred or an Eric Steven or something?” He laughed and I joined in.
“Exactly. I feel like I need to know your last name before this goes further. I mean, you seem nice, but I have high standards with friends.” The professor swaggered in and the class fell silent. I caught Radcliffe’s gaze and we shared a small smile. I guessed I needed to wait to find out his surname. The professor wore an all-matching Adidas sweat suit and I couldn’t decide if I liked it, wanted one for myself or judged him. He rambled on about course expectations and our first assignment. It intrigued me. I’d lucked out having zero homework yet. However, Nicole’s program already had my mind spinning.
“You are going to pair up and create a diet based on the team I assign you. You must cite all sources and provide details as to the hows and whys. If you’ve heard about me, you know that I’m tough. I’m adding more to your assignment than the other courses. You need to prepare an exercise plan, diet, weight loss snacks and muscle gaining meals within a week. Pair up—I don’t care with who—and make plans. If you want to be a trainer then you’re going to have to work with coaches who are assholes and demanding with no people skills. I am the least of your problems, unless you suck. Then I can’t help you. Now, go.” He plopped onto the desk and put headphones in, watching something on his phone. My mouth dropped open. I sat there, shocked at the behavior of our teacher.
“Don’t be worried. That’s Patz for you.” Radcliffe shrugged and pulled out his laptop. His shaggy hair covered most of his face, the curls blocking his dull brown eyes. “He’s one of the best, actually. He played professional hockey for ten years, injured his shoulder and ended up here. He’ll tell it like it is. My sister had him years ago and he still uses the same syllabus and all.”
“I had no idea. Who did he play for?” I frowned. I should know this.
“Boston, I think. It was a long time ago. Want to partner up?” He gave me a cheesy grin and added, “My last name is Rutger.”
“Radcliffe Rutger.” I closed my eyes and bit back a laugh. “You sound like a…prince or duke or something.”
“I know. It scares away the ladies.” He said it without a hint of sadness. “But when I become famous, I’ll sound awesome as hell.”
“Yes, you will, Rad Rutger.” I laughed and scooted my desk closer to him. “I’m down to work together, but I should warn you, I’m a workaholic and really need to do well here.”
“Don’t judge me, lady. I’m also a book-loving dork. I’ll put the effort in. Now, I’ll go get the assignment. Start a document and share it with me. Email’s the same as my name.”
“You got it.” I began the process and we got a good hour of work in before Patz told us to get out for his next class. We’d barely touched the assignment, for which we’d been given a young hockey team. Despite being a former hockey player, Radcliffe showed no worry or anxiety over it, unlike me. I swallowed down the pressure to succeed. His easy-going attitude helped my anxiety. “There’s no way we can finish this at the discussion Thursday. Are you able to meet sometime over the weekend?”
“Oh yeah. What works best for you? Friday, Saturday, Sunday?” He closed his laptop and held out his phone. “Give me your number and we can figure it out, if you’re not sure.”
“Probably best. My roommate and I might have plans. She’s needy like that. So, I’ll let you know tomorrow?” He put my number into his phone and my phone went off.
“Sounds good. Nice to meet you, Callie.” He smiled and took off in the other direction. I waved and headed to my next class.Somethingabout this university fit me, the hard journey to get here worth it. I grinned a little too wide, drawing some stares as I headed across the quad to psychology in the sporting context. None of my classes were boring and I had no qualms about studying. My future career meant everything to me. I got to class early and chose a seat at the back of the room. I wasn’t a fan of lectures with hundreds of people because the teachers were too impersonal. My pulse raced as small beads of sweat dripped down my lower back. My nerves were shot to hell.
I stood out as a newbie, with the school experience being the secret online classes I’d taken that summer. They never required face-to-face interaction, but classes here weresodifferent. Putting in the work had allowed me to be in a second-year class for psychology, but then I stood out as the awkward new girl.You can do this, Callie. Man up.My neck tightened in tension, the sound from the front distracting me. A door slammed open, all eyes darting to the entrance to the lecture and I saw none other than Zade stroll in with nothing but a laptop and a gaggle of girls trailing him.
He smiled, putting his arms around two of the girls, and chose a seat in the front. The professor walked up to him and shook his hand. He oozed charm and grace, which made me gag. He showboated and seeing him with his fans reaffirmed my decision to remain only friends with him. Sure, the attraction went both ways and the past two weeks had been more fun than I’d imagined, but Zade Williams was a heartbreaking distraction I refused to gamble with. I put one headphone in and pulled out a pad of paper. I tried to focus on taking dubious notes, but my gaze pulled to Zade’s head. He sat in the middle of a row of girls, beautifully tall and built girls, and seemed to be the king of the world. I pulled out my phone and sent a picture to Greta. It didn’t help that the professor droned on about the syllabus when I’d already found it word for word online.
Callie: He’s like a king around here. What the hell.
Greta: Yeah, he kind of is. Zwillows Pillows is a real club. They follow him around.
Callie: He’s great and all, but…damn. That’s a real name?
Greta: Yup. They have a Twitter and track his movements around campus. Jealous?
Callie: I wouldn’t say that. Disappointed that it seems he is who I thought he might be. He seemed different.
Greta: Aw, my girl Cal had a crush.
Callie: Nah, not crush. Hope. This lecture sucks. I want chocolate.
I didn’t hesitate before pulling up Zade’s number and giving him shit. My personality was too bold to let something likeZwillows Pillowsgo. I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. I got the fact that people were fans of athletes, I really did, but following their movements? Stalking them for real? Maybe my dad coaching had numbed me to the celebrity treatment some athletes got, or maybe I was normal. They were regular people with cool talents.
Callie: Zwillows Pillows. Are you effing kidding me?
He pulled out his phone and leaned away from the girl hanging on to him. The motion was small and insignificant. I shouldn’t have enjoyed it. But I did.
Zade: I know the president. I can get you VIP membership.
Callie: Nah, I’m good.
Zade: Say the word and I’ll get you a sticker. There are perks of the club…pictures of me, signed shit, you name it.
