Page 5 of The Casanova Complex

It’s going to be a long season.

I get why Zach’s worried ’cause I’m not usually the mopey, introspective kind of guy.

The opposite, really, but I’m just in my head tonight.

Friday’s game is looming, and I hate that the most important season of my life started the way it has. Hate that Gauthreaux is the problem I never expected to have.

Zach’s right though.

This is our senior year.

It’s the last time we’ll all be together in the place we call home. The last time we’ll have these memories to make. Shit, we’ve already lost Saint, and it sucks losing one of your boys.

Saint Devereaux is one of my best friends, and now he’s across the country playing for the New York Wolves, leaving me here all alone with these dicks to finish out our senior year.

“Nah, that shit’s not happening. You hear me? You’re going to be signed to the best fucking team in the league. I know this isn’t the Bennett Legros saying this bullshit. No, that guy is the most relentless, stubborn motherfucker I’ve ever met.”

I laugh. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Zach nods. “I know I am. Plus, you’re also the most superstitious fucker I know, and this mindset?” He taps my temple. “Ain’t working, so let it go, and loosen the fuck up. C’mon, let’s party, brother. Do you see the amount of tits here?”

He swipes the stress-reliever ones from where he dropped them in my lap and squeezes them with a shit-eating smirk.

“Yeah, remind me again why there are tits everywhere? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but…”

Internally, I am absolutely fucking complaining because I can look, but I can’t touch.

“It’s October, breast cancer awareness month. Phi Mu is raising money for the Cancer Society, hence the wet T-shirt contest about to happen over there.” He points to the right, and there’s a group of girls and guys wearing pink, setting up a mini stage in the middle of the sorority house.

I hum. “You know, now that you mention it, I think that October might just be the best month of the year. Hockey and boobs.”

“Fuck yeah, it is. Here’s to our senior year.”

When Zach lifts his cup between us, I tap mine against his. And to that, we fucking drink.

CHAPTER TWO

MERRITT

How much caffeine is too much caffeine?

Honestly, I’m barely able to keep track of which day it is, let alone how much coffee I’ve actually had in the last twenty-four hours.

Oh shit.

600mg of caffeine is generally considered too much for an adult, which can result in heart palpitations, insomnia…

My search result now has me wondering if I’m actually going to die from caffeine overconsumption.

Kind of fitting if that’s the way that I go.

Here lies Merritt Amelia St. Pierre, the overworked, exhausted pre-law student who somehow survived on an average of three hours of sleep per night for the majority of her college career. Bless her heart, literally, since it’s the reason she’s dead. It couldn’t handle the obscene amount of espresso in combination with her tragically high dose of ADHD meds.

A laugh slips past my lips, drawing the attention of the people around me, and I promptly snap them shut when I feel their stares and hurriedly click out of my search.

“Sorry,” I whisper with a wince.

Glancing back at my laptop, I pull open the notes app and try to focus on Professor Hart.