“I hate you,” I told Dustin as I straightened and jogged to the end zone and then ran my suicides, Slater’s cackling laughter in my ear.
When the whistle finally called, I no longer cared and lay down on the turf. Let me die here, it was fine. I was ready.
A shadow fell over me, my roommate’s smiling face, as he stooped down and offered me his arm. “C’mon, pussy, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Dustin said with a wide grin.
“I’m done,” I told him, but then Noah was there, and they both hauled me to my feet. “Why are you still standing?” I asked Noah.
“Stamina. Women fucking love me.”
I laughed. It hurt. I laughed harder.
“If you can laugh, you can do it twice as hard tomorrow,” Hembry said, still glued to his tablet.
“If I cry, do I get to go easy?” I wasn’t sure if I was serious.
“Shower. Be grateful I’m not Sutherland or Holt, that would have got you an extra suicide.”
My friends pulled my ass away before I said anything else.
In the shower, I leaned against the wall and let the water soothe my aches and pains. I was running low on painkillers, and the thought of having to ask for more made me sure I didn’t need them. Right up to points like now, when I knew I needed something to ease the pain. With my head against the wall, I reflected on the day.
The whole practice had been a shitshow — timing off, routes sloppy, and every damn throw felt like it was tugging the ache in my shoulder just a little deeper. Nobody said it, but I knew they were judging my every move.
I finally turned off the water and went back to get dressed. I yanked my hoodie over my head, jaw clenched, and saw Noah stretched out on a bench, scrolling through his phone, as casual as if he hadn’t just been running drills until he nearly collapsed.
“Shoulder still niggling?” he asked, trying to make it sound casual, and failing.
“Yeah, it’ll get there,” I muttered, pulling my bag from my locker. I looked around. “Where’s ourcharmingroommate?”
Noah stood, stretched, and then leaned against the locker beside me. “Said something about a girl, didn’t catch her name.”
“I doubt he will either,” I muttered dryly.
He gave me one of those looks. “He’s popular.”
“Yeah. Smooth talker.” I picked up my bag. “I’m starving.”
We walked to the dining hall in relative silence. Noah wasn’t much of a talker, and I appreciated that. Sometimes you didn’t need chatter to fill the space. The quiet was just as welcome.
“I don’t know if I should say anything...” He took a deep breath. “I saw Savvy this afternoon and she looked upset.”
And there went my peace and quiet.
His saying her name like that hit me harder than he did as a linebacker. I froze, and the air between us suddenly grew heavy.
Noah didn’t back off, didn’t even blink. “Thought so,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Your mind’s not on practice; I get it, sometimes mine isn’t either. But then I remember that football is the ticket, man. And you can lie to yourself all you want, but you getting yourself in knots like this?” He glanced at me. “I don’t care what you tell yourself, but she’s more than a distraction.”
“What did you call her?” My fists were clenched at my sides, every instinct screaming not to react.
He looked confused for a moment. “Savvy? She said her friends call her Savvy.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “I thought that was cool of her... to, you know, offer that.” He grimaced. “But judging by the death glare you’re giving me, I’m guessing that’s a no?”
The silence stretched, and the weight in my chest said more than words ever could.
“Careful, man,” Noah added, his tone softer now. “If she’s under your skin this bad, she’s already got leverage, and you’re in deep.”
I started walking again, muttering, “Mind your own business.” But the echo of her name stuck, circling me like a damn play I couldn’t shake, no matter how many times I ran it in my head.
I stopped again. He didn’t seem surprised.
