Diesel

Home > Romance > Diesel > Page 7
Diesel Page 7

by Lisa Lang Blakeney


  “Okay.”

  “You trust me, JG?”

  “With my life.”

  After a brief but passionate kiss, we decide to grab lunch at the campus grill called The End Zone. We’ve been eating here over the last week or so, because we like it better than the cafeteria food. We both order the grilled chicken sandwich combo, and then start to go over homework while sitting at a booth in the corner.

  I pull out my calendar to show Mason what my assignments are for the week. Sometimes I wonder if I made it into Georgia Union on my own merit or simply because my mother works for the university. School can sometimes feel overwhelming at times.

  “Okay, you should start working on this English paper tonight. If you just do an hour a night, you’ll get it done three days ahead of time. That way I’ll be able to edit it before you need to turn it in.”

  “I don’t need you checking my homework, Mom,” I say facetiously. “I just need a little help getting organized.”

  “Okay but—”

  Two girls stop at our table and interrupt us specifically to speak to Mason. Scratch that. I mean flirt with him.

  “Good luck on the Tech U game, Diesel. You’re looking good out there.”

  “Yeah, we’ll be cheering for you, D.”

  I glare at them for a moment like they’ve both lost their ever-lovin’ minds.

  “Do you not see me sitting here?” I ask them both.

  “What?”

  One of them responds with a totally fake California Valley girl accent, and the other doesn’t respond at all as they both turn to walk away with satisfied grins across their faces.

  “I said—” I grow louder and angrier in response, but Mason quiets me with a hand on my thigh.

  “Chill, babe.”

  “Did you not just see that?”

  “They were just football fans.”

  “They were Diesel fans.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Not when they disrespect your girlfriend.”

  “You’re being emotional. How are they supposed to know that you’re my girlfriend?”

  “They called you by the nickname that I gave you!”

  “Babe, in fairness, you know that everyone calls me that now. You should be proud. You gave me a name that followed me all the way from middle school to college. There will never be a time that somebody calls me by the name Diesel and I don’t think of you.”

  “Wonderful,” I deadpan.

  “I love it when my Jersey girl gets jealous. It’s such a turn on. Now come over here on this side of the booth and sit next to me.”

  “You’re too damn big. We’ll be all squished together in the seat.”

  A devilish grin appears on his face.

  “That’s exactly the point.”

  16

  Olivia

  Sophomore Year

  “Have a seat, Olivia.”

  I take a seat in my advisor’s office after receiving an email from him requesting a meeting.

  “So, I asked you to meet with me today because I see that you are only partially registered for spring semester. All I see in the system is that you’re enrolled in your two remaining prerequisites. I’m assuming the reason why is because you haven’t declared a major yet.”

  “That about sums things up, Mr. Killum.”

  “Just out of curiosity have you talked to your mother about your options?”

  “I don’t think that my mom can help me figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Only I can do that.”

  “True but she knows this university well. She could help point you in the right direction, consider all the possibilities, and perhaps pick the right professors.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not involve her.”

  “All right, so let’s talk. What did you see yourself doing when you chose to enroll in Georgia Union?”

  “I have no idea. I was undeclared when I made the decision to go here.”

  “Why did you choose this university?”

  “I agreed to go to Union because the tuition is free since my mom works here.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s a perfectly valid reason. College is expensive. Tell me, what did you dream about doing or becoming when you were a little girl?”

  “Playing football.”

  “Really?” he responds as if he’s stunned. As if it’s the wildest thing he’s ever heard.

  “Yes, really. I played it all the time as a kid, and I stupidly thought that one day I’d play it as an adult.”

  “You mean professionally play?”

  “Yes, I told you it was stupid.”

  “I don’t think it’s stupid at all. In fact, I think it was a reasonable assumption to make. No one dreamed when I was a kid that women would have their own professional basketball league and now look. It’s a reasonable assumption to think that it would happen with football too.”

  “Basketball and football are very different though. I didn’t at first, but now I realize and have accepted that people just aren’t ready to watch women play football yet, but it doesn’t change the fact that I still love the sport.”

  “As millions of other people do in this country, but actually, Olivia, you’ve given me a great deal of information to help you. I’ve taken a look at your original application to the university, your involvement in student council, and the classes you’ve taken here so far. Couple all of that with the fact that you love football, and I think I have a good idea of what direction to point you in.

  “I think you could have a future in a variety of areas: publicity, event planning, marketing, or promotions. You could combine your love of football and any of these majors. Ball clubs have or hire publicists, event planners, and marketing teams all the time.”

  Something inside of me smiles. Mr. Killum just gave me something that I so desperately needed … direction.

  “And so you’re saying there are jobs like that in the NFL?”

  “Of course. It’s a billion-dollar company that is always trying to promote itself. This will keep you involved in the sport you love and making a good living while doing so. In fact, both collegiate and pro leagues have a need for all types of marketing and promotions support, and Union has a good track record of helping our graduates find full-time employment in those fields.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Mr. Killum. I appreciate it.”

  “I’m happy to help, but, Olivia, you should probably think quickly about next semester. Classes fill up fast. Maybe consider discussing what we talked about with your mom so she can help.”

  Maybe I’ll stop by her office.

  “I’ll be back first thing Monday morning to register, Mr. Killum.”

  “Excellent. See you then.”

  My mother is what you would call a modern superwoman. She is fiercely determined, extremely talented, and pretty much successful at everything she tries—except for her marriage to the man who should have been my father.

  She works in the music department of the university where she teaches jazz voice. While I love my mother and deeply admire her for her talent, as well as for her strength in raising me alone, we couldn’t be more different.

  My mom is quite feminine, loves pastel colors, flowy dresses, and floral perfumes. She’s also very beautiful, somewhat traditional, totally creative, as well as talented, organized, and polite.

  I, on the other hand, am very different. I’m a tomboy, nontraditional, uncreative, disorganized, love the color brown, prefer sweats, rather wear a clean scent, am not considered a beauty by any stretch, and I can’t sing a single note.

  It’s difficult being so different from the woman that gave you life. I struggle to see myself in her all the time, and it may explain why I’ve struggled with figuring out my place in the world. Who I am, what I’m good at, and what the right path for me is.

  Maybe that’s why I’m so attracted, yet so totally e
nvious of Mason. He knows his place in the world. He knows that he’s a ballplayer and that he’ll be a ballplayer for a long time, and when that’s over he knows that he has the intelligence to be anything else that he wants. A doctor, a lawyer, or whatever.

  There has to be peace in that sort of knowledge.

  Peace that I envy.

  I peek into my mom’s office which is open because this is her time for office hours. She is sitting at her desk typing something on her computer. I tap gingerly on the doorframe.

  “Mom?”

  Her eyes pop up, and when she sees that it’s me she smiles warmly.

  “Hey, sweetie, this is a pleasant surprise.”

  “Yeah, I just came from my counselor’s office, and since I was nearby I thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

  “How are classes? Are you having a good semester so far?”

  “Yes, classes are fine. I was meeting with Mr. Killum to discuss next semester because I haven’t registered yet.”

  “You really need to register or they’ll give away your dorm room, Olivia. You don’t want to commute do you?”

  I sigh to myself.

  I love my mother dearly, but she always finds a fault or a way to fix anything I’m doing.

  “Don’t worry about it, Mom, I’m handling it.”

  “Good. So how’s Mason doing? Are you two still hanging out.”

  “He’s doing well. Having a great season so far.”

  “Yeah, the Chargers have never looked better since he joined the team. We were lucky to get him.”

  “Yep.”

  “Tell him to call his mother a little more often. You two are only thirty minutes away, but it seems like three hundred miles to us because you don’t live at home anymore. A call once in a while would be nice.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  I stand up to leave.

  “This was a very nice and unexpected visit, Olivia. It’s weird that I don’t see you much and I work here. Thanks for dropping by. It was good to lay eyes on you.”

  “It was good seeing you too, Mom.”

  I give my mother a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek and then head back to my dorm. I decided not to talk to her about selecting a major, because it’s always been difficult for me to talk to my mom about anything serious. We’re not friends. I’m her daughter. Plus, it just didn’t seem the right time to bring it up.

  I’ll talk to Mason instead.

  17

  Olivia

  I’m surprised when I see the infamous Scott Dobson sitting on a bench in front of Hamilton Towers (my dorm building) and talking on his phone. There are several reasons for my surprise. One is that I’ve never seen him at this dorm before. Ever. The other is that I know the team has practice right now. So why is he here?

  Then I see the reason why.

  Shit.

  His entire leg is wrapped in a soft brace from ankle to crotch.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “What on earth happened to you?”

  “Motorcycle accident.”

  “Ooh, and you have a black eye too. Are you sure you didn’t get on the wrong side of someone’s fist?”

  He chuckles.

  “No, just the wrong side of a large buck in the road. I swerved to get out of the damn thing’s way and ended up like this.”

  “A deer and a motorcycle, huh? You were lucky that a broken leg and a bruised face are all you have.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  “So why are you in front of my dorm? You should be sitting somewhere with that leg propped up watching Netflix.”

  “I would if there was someone available to take care of me.”

  Scott is a charmer and a flatterer. I experienced a little of it firsthand when he took me to The Harvest Dance back in high school, and I see it once in a while when I come to the games. He always makes it a point to say hello and flirt a little. I think he does it primarily just to get on Mason’s nerves.

  “You're so full of it, Dobson.”

  “Are you still with Diesel?”

  I turn my lips up in a half smirk. Scott knows full well that the two of us are together, because how could you not? Mason likes to make a show of it.

  “Yes, Scott.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

  I change the subject.

  “Coach doesn’t make you go to practice even with a broken leg?”

  “It’s not broken. I tore a few ligaments and yes he does require me to come to practice, but I ain’t going. I’ve been playing football every single day for most of my life. Today I just want to lie like broccoli and talk to the prettiest girl in Hamilton Towers.”

  I can see the pain in Scott’s eyes when he talks about football. I think this injury is much more of a big deal than he’s letting on. Maybe he feels like it’s career ending.

  “Your leg will get better, Scott,” I say as I finally sit down next to him.

  He pauses for a moment then smiles at me.

  “You didn’t ask me why I was on the motorcycle.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m the quarterback of the team. I wasn’t supposed to be on a motorcycle. It’s dangerous. We even sign a code of conduct contract that specifies that we’re not supposed to participate in any activities that could cause us bodily harm. Motorcycle riding is on that list of banned activities.”

  As it should be.

  “So ask me,” he says.

  “Ok, why were you riding? You’ve got Virginia U coming up and now you won’t be able to play in one of the biggest games of the season.”

  “Graham will do a good job. I taught him everything I know.”

  Graham is the backup quarterback.

  “That’s not really the point, Scott. I don’t get it. Why would you risk everything you’ve worked so hard for?”

  “I’ve always been careful about everything for the sake of football. All my decisions have been for the sake of football. What I eat. The games I could play. The summer camps I could go to as a kid. The friends I could have. It’s all been about the game and I was tired. For once I wanted to make a decision that was all about what I wanted.”

  Scott hangs his head and I pat the knee of his uninjured leg gently as a small gesture of comfort. I’ve never been in his shoes, but I think I can empathize with Scott’s pain. I’ve always dwelled on how not being able to play football was so unfair to me, but I never put much thought into how much these guys sacrifice to play the game.

  “I never thought of it that way before and you’re right. You should be able to have a little fun without having to always consider how it will affect football. I hope you figure things out. You’re a good player, but you’re also a great person who deserves great things.”

  “Can I marry you?”

  We both start laughing.

  “I’m promised to another.”

  “Yeah, and he never lets me forget it. All jokes aside, I appreciate you not calling me an idiot for this.” He points to his leg.

  “Of course not. You’re Scott motherfucking Dobson. You’ll never be an idiot.”

  “Aw, that was sweet. Say, Olivia, have you been to one of our frat parties yet?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “You’re a freakin’ sophomore and you haven’t been to a Theta party yet? You need to come tonight as my guest. Bring some of your girls.”

  “I don’t know.” I hesitate.

  “You can bring your boyfriend if you want to, although I don’t know anyone who brings their boyfriend to a frat party.”

  “I’ll ask him.”

  “He’ll probably be there anyway. He goes to plenty of parties without you and he’ll probably be at this one.”

  That sort of irks me, but I realize that it’s my own fault. I often tell Mason to go on without me a lot, because parties aren’t my thing unless I’m helping to plan them. I don’t like making small talk with airheaded sorority girls all night while he socializes with his teammates and their groupies.

&nbs
p; But maybe I need to second guess that way of thinking.

  Maybe I’m making choices that aren’t in my best interest either.

  “I’ll think about it. There are a couple of girls on my floor that might want to go.”

  Kira will definitely want to hang.

  “Awesome. I’ll tell the door to look out for you. Come find me when you get in. I’ll be the dude standing on crutches or sitting in the middle of the room in a recliner.”

  “I’ll see you later then.”

  18

  Mason

  The guys on the team are in low spirits after hearing the news about Dobson. He’s a senior, our star player, and the big Virginia game is coming up. I, on the other hand, might be the only one who’s not depressed about it.

  I’m pissed.

  It was totally selfish of that egomaniac to get on a motorcycle when he is so important to the team. His decision to do that speaks to his character or lack thereof.

  I had plans on spending the evening with Olivia tonight, maybe take her to a movie or something, but I think I need to hang with the guys and help our backup quarterback, Graham, feel more connected to the team. Once we get our off-the-field chemistry right, it will be much easier to get the game day chemistry right.

  Many of the players on the team are in the same fraternity. Theta is popular with athletes and tends to attract a lot of ballers, although I didn’t pledge it. I went with one of the more academic fraternities on campus and they were glad to have me.

  The Theta frat house is wild during party season. When we arrive there are kids everywhere. Inside, outside, in the yard out back and on the roof deck. The music is on full blast, and the bass from the hip-hop playing is practically making the walls shiver with every beat. The women are dressed in their party best, short dresses or tight jeans, and they all have a drink in their hands.

  I’m the designated party ambassador for the guys tonight which means that it is my job to get them drunk, get them laid, and drive them home if necessary since I’ll be sober. I’m at the makeshift bar grabbing a few drinks for Graham when I notice Olivia walk through the door with three other girls from her dorm. She didn’t tell me she was coming tonight which is strange, but I don’t care about that as soon as I take a look at her. I mean really look at her.

 

‹ Prev