Roman only chuckles.
Yep—I’m done with this conversation. “Are we celebrating or what?”
Wade Turner, half a bench away, isn’t even old enough to enter a bar yet, but his ears perk up as if we’ll be inviting him. Not this time. I don’t mind my younger teammates. But I’m not up for it today. We may be in season, but I need something stronger than a fruit punch.
“I’ve got to get back to Stell,” Roman says. “She missed the game because she’s home sick.” Roman pats a hand on my shoulder. “Next time.”
“Fran and Rosalie are waiting,” Callum says, his mouth turned down as if he’s sorry for me.
Gah. I hate pity.
I shrug. “I like Fran and Rose. They can come.”
But Zev doesn’t look ready to party. “Rosalie’s grandfather passed away?—”
“Kermit?” I ask. I never met the man, but Rosalie spoke fondly of him.
“Yeah. We’re going to her grandma’s tonight.”
I nod, understanding. I won’t stop him. Sounds like Rose’s grandma needs them. That doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I need a distraction. “Superman?” I say to Callum, lifting my brows and doing my best to forget all about Margaret McCrae.
“Sorry, man. Fran’s got plans for me.”
“Plans she’d mind me crashing?” I ask. Fran loves me. If she met me before Callum, his day would be ending very differently.
“Yes. Very much so.”
“I’m free,” Wade says, seven lockers down.
“You guys are really going to leave me on my own?” I ask, ignoring my twenty-year-old teammate.
“Wade’s free.” Roman’s brows lift.
“I hear he’s a great wingman,” Zev says.
“I don’t need a wingman.” I was just hoping for a little distraction with my friends. Clearly, that’s not going to happen.
“There’s this frat party tonight—” Wade says. “The entire Delta Kappa Nu house is coming.”
“Let me stop you right there.” Roman holds out a palm to our younger teammate. “Lucca isn’t going to some college party.”
I rub the bristles of my beard on my chin. “The entire Delta?—”
“Nope.” Roman swipes an arm around Wade’s shoulders and begins to walk him in the opposite direction of where Istand. “Have you talked to Anthony? I bet he’s free and he won’t get you in nearly as much trouble.”
“So, you’re really leaving me on my own?” I look from Zev to Callum, then back where Roman is planting Wade right next to Anthony. They’re both college-age, in school, and capable of finding their own trouble.
“This one time,” Zev says.
“We’ll go out next week.” Callum plants a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. More pity.
I shrug it off. “Next week it is,” I say, as if I couldn’t care less.
Except that I do.
Who’s going to get my mind off of McCrae tonight?
Two
