“Garbage.” I snort. “My roommate invited some girls over, and one of them posted some shit that made it look like we were fucking around.”
“You weren’t?” He leans back, clearly surprised. “There were a bunch of people talking about it.”
“Who?” I ask, hauling the door to the south quad open.
Higgins shrugs. “Just people. I got the impression it was on the DL for you, so I just stayed out of it.”
“Nah, man, nothing happened except her making shit up to look like it did.”
“Oh shit. Well, what I heard was all good, so at least she’s not talking crap about you.” He shrugs like it’s okay she’s making it seem like we hooked up because she’s not telling everyone I have a little dick or something.
“Well, I don’t think my girl will see it that way, you feel me?” I grab a plate and a to-go box off the stand so I can grab Waylynn something just in case she didn’t have dinner yet.
“Oh, it’s like that now? You already wifed up?” he questions, heading deeper into the dining hall as I follow behind him.
“Yup.” I’m familiar with the term. It’s used for serious girlfriends only—the ones you know will always have your back and understand how much work goes into this kind of career, even at college level.
I used to worry that I loved football too much to be worthy of that kind of attention, which is why I thought Memphis’ plan was perfect. I can’t always be around as much as most girls want or need, and knowing he would be there when I can’t made sense to me, but now I know I can do both—love football and Waylynn the way she deserves. Plus, she’ll still have Memphis to take care of her, maybe Bates too. What could be better than getting to spend my life with the three people who matter the most to me?
“Dude, I’m happy for you, but there’s too much snatch here for me to settle down so quickly.” He’s smiling in a way that makes me think he’s not happy for me. It’s more like he feels sorry for me, but I don’t care. “When can I meet her?”
“She’ll be at the game this weekend,” I tell him noncommittally, then change the subject. “What are you eating?”
“I’m starting with salmon, that way I don’t fill up on pizza and fries,” he mumbles dejectedly. The trainers have gotten to him, noob.
“You do that.” I back away from him. I know my body, and I need some carbs to refuel.
A few of our teammates are already in the lines, but everything moves pretty quickly, and they stay stocked up. I swear the food staff knows what time practice will end better than we do.
I load two chicken sandwiches on my plate and a heaping pile of fried rice with vegetables I can’t even name, but they taste good, then save the to-go box until I’m ready to leave to pack for Waylynn and Memphis.
Higgins finds me at a table near the corner, along with a few other linemen, and we shove our faces as if we haven’t eaten all day, barely speaking to each other until our plates are nearly empty, while some have gone up for seconds.
“KJ said your girl made you move out of the dorm?” Hughes, a junior I’ve only spoken to a few times, says conversationally.
“No.” I snort. “I never stayed there anyway, but I’m moving my stuff out becauseKJwas letting people go through my shit. There are pictures of some girl in my room, wearing my clothes, and I sure as shit didn’t give her permission.”
“Oh hell.” He makes a strange expression, but I can’t tell if his round face is confused or sympathetic.
“He needs to quit running his mouth about me and my girl.” I ball up my napkin. I have no idea what his problem is. We don’t play the same position, and we’re not in competition for anything. His beef makes no sense.
Hughes lifts a heavy shoulder. “I figured him for a shit talker. I just didn’t know he was an idiot too. He won’t make it much longer if he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass.”
“I don’t get him, but I really don’t care enough to try to either,” I admit.
Hughes leans over and presents me with his fist to bump. “Real talk. Tell your girl she can sit with mine at the game if she wants so the wannabe WAGs don’t fuck with her. Becky will tear a bitch up,” he says proudly.
“My brother takes care of her, but thanks.”
“Good, but the offer always stands if he’s busy though.” I nod at the gesture, and we talk football for another thirty minutes until I start to get antsy. I want to go home and relax. See Waylynn.
I pick up my plates and pile them on my tray. “I’m heading out after I grab some more grub, see you guys tomorrow.”
After putting my dishes into the wash table, I send a quick text to Memphis.
Me:Can U pick me up from SQ?
Memphis:If you can give me thirty. I’m finishing up.
