1
Randy
The line of scrimmage is down and lined up in front of me. “White 80, white 80,” I yell as my eyes flick left then right. “Set, hut!” I follow, as the ball is snapped into my hands. I take a controlled breath my feet taking backward steps, time slows down as I scan the field looking for the best option. I keep an eye on the defensive player to the left in my peripheral vision. I watch our new wide receiver, Devon Ellis, as he twists away from his opponent and sprints down field.Damn, he is fast. I spiral the ball to him, his body turning at the last second, catching the ball and running it across for a touchdown.
Perfection!
I double fist the air as the whole team runs together to celebrate our game-winning touchdown.
I am still riding that high as I walk into Jason’s house. I am used to the welcome I receive. The student body flocks toward me, once again congratulating me on our victory and my lethal arm. Slaps on the back, kisses on the cheek, the more-than-obvious come-fuck-me looks. Which I am fully going to accept…but not now.
Right now, I want to hang out with my boys. This is what I live for, this rush, these highs, these moments where I am God.
I make my way through the crowd of cheers and high fives to find my teammates. I find one of my best friends andhousemate Tony Walsh in the kitchen chatting to a guy I’ve never seen before. I approach and slap him on the back. “Hey, man,” I say in greeting.
He seems caught off guard but recovers quickly, giving me an easy look and thumbing toward the fridge.
“Hey, brother, beers are in the fridge. Some guys were poking around in there trying to take them, but they were quickly sent on their way.”
“Awesome,” I reply, making a beeline for the fridge before it all disappears. I’d much rather have a cold bottle of beer from the fridge than the keg outside.
I head back over to Walsh, twisting the top off my beer.
“Randy, this is Sebastian. Seb, this is Randy.”
They both lean against the kitchen island, which is standing-room only as partygoers move around us.
“Nice to meet you, man. How do you know each other?” I ask, standing in front of them.
Their eyes flick to each other.
“We have a few classes together,” Walsh replies.
I nod, taking in this guy and wondering how I’ve never seen him around before. He’s definitely not a sophomore, or even a junior, and he clearly doesn’t shy away from the gym.
“Geez, man, you’re built. You should be playing football,” I say, my left hand slipping into my front pocket while my beer-holding right hand points toward him.
“Not my thing,” he says, shaking his head, his bottle hovering near his mouth.
“Just like the gym,” his deep voice adds before he swigs his beer and swallows.
“I like watching the games and I support the team, but I don’t think I have the coordination to do what you guys do.” “Really? You watch Walsh stroll onto the field—maybe break into a brisk jog, kick the ball, then mosey back to the bench,and you call that coordinated?” I tease, shooting him a smirk knowing full well how talented Walsh is.
Walsh laughs, his head shaking as his eyes find the floor. “Fuck you, man!” His green eyes then find my face, his famous dimples on full display.
“I still couldn’t do it,” Sebastian says through a pearly white smile. “I’m more of a gym junky. Hitting the bags is more my speed.”
The guy looks country in a tight black shirt, though it’s mostly covered by a red-and-black-checked shirt and jeans. Either way, with his build and rugged good looks, he’s not going to have any problems getting the ladies.
“Hey, Randy,” a sweet purr cuts through the air, making all three of us look. I turn to the black-haired beauty in front of me; she is super cute.
“Well, hello, gorgeous.” I leer as a I lean back against the countertop and take her in.
“I just wanted to say you played really well today.”
“Thank you…” I pause, waiting for her to fill in the rest of the details.
“Abigail.”
