“It’s true.” Lindsey presses her lips into a line. “He was a real shit. And a pig. A pig shit.”
“He’s not a pig shit.” My throat is tight, and I look down at my phone lighting up with a text.
K-Brad
I should take the checkdown.
I can’t swallow the knot away. Fuck him for texting me this. Why does he have to be so humble and sweet?
“I’m the shit.” My voice is quiet, and I think back to our texting, to him asking about my dreams as a child, telling me about his big ass family. “He’s nice.”
Lindsey walks over and puts her head on my shoulder. “You were such a baller tonight. You said everything everyone was thinking and it was funny and smart.”
“I started a dogpile.” My shoulders drop, and I scrub my fingers over my eyes with a growl. “I hate dogpiles.”
“Yeah.”
“No, I mean, I reallyreallyhate dogpiles. I hate dogpiles so much, I start searching for a way to support the victim.” I lift the margarita and take a big, huge gulp.
Lindsey’s lips purse, and she nods slowly. “He’s really hot.”
I inhale so fast, I almost choke. Then I almost send tequila through my nose.
“Lindsey!” I squeal, holding the back of my hand to my upper lip.
“What?” She turns, giving me doe eyes as she takes a sip of her drink. “You said you wanted to support him. He’s hot.”
“That doesn’t make any of this okay!”
“Doesn’t it, though?” She tilts her head to the side, squinting. “Hot guys can get away with all sorts of shit from what I’ve seen.”
I hold my phone in my hand, studying his text. He’s not like that, and it makes me itchy and tight. It makes me feel like I’m in trouble when I’m not.
I didn’t do anything wrong. I reported the game exactly as he played it, warts and all.
My fingers fly over the screen as I compose a reply.
Melody
It’s a strategy for a reason.
I imagine he’s busy with post-game interviews, showers, transportation… Instead, he texts right back.
K-Brad
You’re right. I want the quick score. I worked hard to have Kyler and Baker recruited, and I depend on them too much.
Melody
You have to look at what’s right in front of you.
The line goes silent. My shoulders are tense. I hate this.
Lindsey sips her drink as she watches me. “What did he say?”
My eyes flicker up to hers, and she’s giving me a knowing smile.
“He agrees that I’m right. He leans too hard on Goff and Hartfield.”
