Bragan Boys (Bragan University Boxset)

by Gianna Gabriela

  Best,

  Hayes.

  The moment I hit send, I think about whether I should’ve sent it in the first place. It definitely sounds like I’m flirting, which is impossible considering I don’t know who I’m talking to.

  To prevent my thoughts from spiraling any further, I call my mom.

  “Hi, Zack, how are you doing today?”

  “I’m a little tired.”

  “Oh, honey, did you have football practice?”

  “Yep. I had to do a few laps today.” Because I pissed off Coach by being late and failing, I add in my mind.

  “Remember to take it easy. Football isn’t everything.”

  But it is. “I know, Mom, I know.” We both know that football is everything. I’m putting all my eggs in one basket. The future of my family depends on it.

  “Do you need anything? Want me to send you some tea?” she asks. She used to do the same when I came home a little beat up from my high school football games.

  I smile. “I’m good. Do you guys need anything?” I know she won’t admit to needing money, which is why I’m taking care of some of the bills without them even knowing.

  “We’re good.”

  “Did Dad find a job, yet?”

  “I called National Grid yesterday to pay electric and gas, and they told me it’d already been handled. It must be a problem on their system, but we don’t have to pay it for now.” I love how she thinks she can change the topic and I won’t notice.

  “Wow, Mom! That’s awesome. Let’s hope they don’t figure out their mistake.”

  “One can only hope,” she says and I can imagine her throwing up a silent prayer. “Are you coming for Christmas?” she adds.

  I completely forgot Christmas was around the corner.

  “Yeah, Ma. I’ll be there,” I tell her. I won’t be able to stay for long since I have tutoring and work.

  “That would be lovely!” she says, her voice rising.

  Knowing I can bring some semblance of happiness to my mother makes it all worth it. “I’ll try and stay for a day or two. Don’t get your hopes up though. Coach has us practicing all the time because of the upcoming game.” I don’t want to tell her I failed biology either because that would be adding to her plate.

  “Dad and I are going to try to see you play.”

  “It’s just another game.” I downplay its importance because my parents have better things to focus on. Still, it would mean the world to me if they could be there and I’ll definitely try and make it happen.

  EMMA

  I find it a little weird that the moment I wake up from my nap, I reach for my phone instead of a book. I glance over to find Zoe still sleeping. She said something about roommates that nap together, stay together, and we both fell asleep. It’s the first time I’ve gotten to take a nap in forever.

  This is what vacations should be about—napping and rejuvenating.

  I unlock my phone and head straight to the email app. Skipping a few unimportant messages in my inbox, I find the one I’d been waiting for: the reply to the one I sent last night after feeling bad for lashing out at the Football Fool. Reading it over, I can’t help but laugh out loud. Of course he’s scared of my dad. He’s the All Mighty Football Coach after all. He literally holds these players’ futures in his hands.

  Rolling over onto my back, I start typing a response. I don’t know who this guy is, but I’m starting to find talking to him isn’t so bad.

  To: ZH2332@braganuniversity.edu

  From: ELW7564@braganuniversity.edu

  Subject: I Like to Surprise People

  You’re right. I usually don’t take things back, but even I can acknowledge when I’ve crossed a line.

  Saturday at 10 AM works for me. I am being forced to tutor you, so I’d like to get it over with as early as possible and have the rest of Saturday to myself (I’m kidding!). If 10 doesn’t work, we can find another time.

  I know Coach’s wrath is hard to hide from. I won’t be the one to trigger it.

  Answers:

  1. I’m a girl, yes. Though I can’t for the life of me figure out why you’d think I was. Are my emails that telling?

  2. You cannot have my phone number. I don’t hand it out—especially to football players. We have a tutoring agreement. You can email me for that.

  Best,

  Lynn (this should answer your third question)

  I don’t bother to tell him my first or last name. I don’t want him to look me up and find out I’m Coach Wilson’s daughter. That’d sure change the tone of our conversations.

  “Are you up already?” Zoe asks.

  I sit up. “That was like a two-hour nap,” I tell her.

  “That’s because we needed it. It was our bodies’ way of telling us rest is important.”

  “How are we going to get any sleep tonight?”

  “Maybe we don’t. We should see what Mia and Kaitlyn are up to.”

  I groan. “Do we have to?” I just want to stay in and finish reading the book that hit me in the face when I fell asleep.

  “We do. We’re on vacation and I’m pretty sure both of them are still here.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Kaitlyn’s dad lives really close to the school, so I’m sure she visits enough to not need to spend the entire break with him.”

  “What about Mia?”

  “I don’t really know. She could either be with her dad and little sister or with Colton. He’s here for practice after all.”

  I get up and grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “Do you think so? Christmas is just around the corner.”

  “We still have a week,” Zoe says, stretching her arms above her head.

  “Are you going home for Christmas?”

  “Of course! My parents wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t.”

  Perching on the edge of my mattress, I say, “Is Jesse coming with you?”

  “Yeah, we’re doing dinner at my family’s house Christmas Eve and then heading to his parents for Christmas morning.”

  “How do you feel about that?” I ask, assuming there’s pressure that comes with the holidays and meeting parents.

  “To be honest,” she starts, sitting up, “I’m a little nervous. Jesse’s met my parents. My mom loves him, and well, my dad loves me enough to like him.”

  I laugh. “So, you’re not nervous?”

  “Oh I am! We’ve been officially dating for two months now and, while he’s met my family, I haven’t met his yet.”

  “Do you feel like it’s too soon?”

  “Partly yes, but also no. Even though we became official only a couple of months ago, we’ve been dancing around the attraction since the summer started. It feels like we’ve been together for longer, and meeting his family is a part of that.”

  “I get that.”

  She looks at me, vulnerability shining in her eyes. “What if they don’t like me?” She’s not one to doubt herself, so her question throws me.

  “I don’t think there’s anyone in this world who could dislike you, Zoe. It’ll be fine,” I assure her.

  She bites her lip, considering my words. “You know what? You’re right.”

  “When am I ever wrong?”

  Zoe shakes her. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

  “I’m going to spend it with Mom.” I don’t know if my statement is true. I know I’m not going home since Mom doesn’t live there anymore and I don’t know if Dad ever leaves his office. Honestly, I don’t really want to go anywhere this Christmas. My family is falling apart and even though that saddens me, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.

  “That’s awesome! I guess this room’s going to be empty for a couple of days.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Before I forget, let me text Mia and ask her what she’s up to,” Zoe says, returning to the original conversation.

  “I was counting on you forgetting about that.”

  “You should know me better than that; I’
m persistent.” She is. That’s why I don’t mention my desire to stay here for Christmas. I know if Zoe thought I was going to spend it alone, she’d drag me home with her.

  I’m not her responsibility.

  Plus, the books will keep me company.

  They always do.

  12

  EMMA

  “I can’t believe the things you get away with,” I tell Zoe. She’s sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of my car, a satisfied smile on her face.

  She turns up the volume on the radio. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Of course you don’t.” I turn right and park right outside Mia’s house. It only took Zoe two seconds to call her and ask what she was doing. It took Mia one second to invite us over for something she called a ‘tradition.’

  Getting out, we knock on Mia’s door.

  “Why am I nervous?” I ask, suddenly feeling anxious.

  “Because I’m making you socialize?”

  That could definitely be it. “You’re probably right.”

  “You know, they don’t bite.”

  “Nope, but Kaitlyn might drag me to another party, and I do not want to go to one of those ever again.” I find myself thinking about it every so often. I did like some parts of it: the music, the dancing, the freedom. There were other things I could’ve done without.

  Zoe laughs. “I still can’t believe she got you to say yes in the first place.”

  “That’s what I get for adopting your philosophy of trying new things.” I grab my e-reader from my bag and show it to Zoe.

  Her eyes widen. “You brought that thing?”

  “Thing? Please do not offend my—” Right before I can finish my sentence, the door opens.

  “Hey girls!” Mia exclaims. She hugs Zoe then me.

  “Hi,” I tell her.

  She signals for us to come inside.

  “Thank you for inviting us over,” Zoe says.

  “I can’t believe y’all haven’t been here yet.”

  “We’re here now,” Zoe says and I follow them, happy to let them talk.

  “That’s true. I’m going to induct the two of you into the Girl’s Club tonight.”

  “I thought we were already part of the Girl’s Club?” Zoe says.

  “Um, how does this induction thing work? I’m not one for rituals, hazing, or anything of that sort,” I say, putting all my reservations out in the open.

  “No more hazing!” Kaitlyn says as she meets us in the living room.

  “No more?” I ask. Did they haze people before?

  Mia laughs. “Please don’t scare Emma. We’ve never had hazing here. She’s talking about her sorority sisters.”

  “Sisters, my ass,” Kaitlyn sneers. “Those girls were mean.” She plops down on the couch and Mia signals for Zoe and me to do the same.

  “You were mean too,” Mia tells her.

  “That was the first time I met you.”

  “And yet you’ve never apologized for it.”

  “I thought I had, but if it bothers you so much, I’m sorry for being rude to you that night. Thanks for saving me from myself.”

  “You were like a damsel in distress,” Mia tells her and I smile. Their banter reminds me of Zoe and me.

  “I need to stop that. There’s a shortage of knights in shining armor,” Kaitlyn says and her tone changes to contemplative. I don’t know about a shortage. The last time I checked, someone literally carried her to the car after a party. Maybe he wasn’t the knight she wanted, but she’s surrounded by decent people who care about her.

  “So, what’s the tradition then?” I ask, the e-reader burning a hole in my bag. There’s a story I’m desperate to finish.

  Mia smiles. “Magic Mike and Spiked Oreo Shakes.”

  “It’s her tradition with Kiya, but since Kiya isn’t here, we get to do it,” Kaitlyn adds sweetly. I don’t miss her sarcasm.

  “I’m not about to complain about Channing Tatum,” Zoe says from next to me.

  “I love Oreo Shakes,” I add, excited it’s going to be more low-key. No parties. No rituals or initiations. Just girls hanging out, having sweets and watching hot guys.

  Mia brings her hand to her chest and looks up dramatically. “I knew I liked you all for a reason.”

  “Who’s making the shakes?” Kaitlyn asks.

  “All of us can then we can hit play on the movie and have a lazy rest of the day,” Mia answers.

  “Sounds perfect.” The words leave my lips and everyone looks at me at once. “What?”

  Mia speaks up first. “We’re just surprised. We thought we’d have to pry a book from your hands for sure.”

  “She’s got her e-reader in her bag, so we might still have to,” Zoe jokes.

  “I can take a day off and hang out with the girls,” I say defensively.

  “That’s true. She took a night off with me and even danced at the party,” Kaitlyn chimes in.

  My cheeks redden. Again, I didn’t think anyone was paying attention to what I was doing, but this is the second person who’s brought up my dancing.

  Mia looks at me with wide eyes. “You danced?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Of course I danced. What else do you do at parties?”

  “Stand around and watch people,” Mia answers.

  “Get drinks spilled on you,” Zoe adds, reminding me of the party she made me go to—the party where she found out about Jesse’s ex-girlfriend.

  “Get drunk,” Kaitlyn says and we all laugh.

  “I don’t do drunk,” I tell them.

  “Me neither,” Zoe adds.

  “Same here,” Mia echoes.

  Kaitlyn looks at us with mock disappointment. “Prudes.”

  Mia laughs. “We’re having some spiked shakes tonight though. I’m okay with having a buzz.”

  “If we add enough liquor maybe we’ll all start spilling our secrets,” Kaitlyn says with a glint in her eyes.

  I don’t know about spilling all my secrets. Some need to stay locked up.

  “We’re in for a crazy night, I see,” Zoe says.

  “It’s always a crazy night when Magic Mike’s playing,” Mia says proudly.

  I wasn’t really in the mood to leave my house and hang out with people, but as I sit here on the couch with Zoe, Kaitlyn and Mia, I think this was a good choice. It’ll help me stop thinking about what’s happening at home.

  It’ll also keep my fingers away from my phone. The itch to see if I have another email is already starting.

  “Ready to make the drinks?” Mia asks, standing up.

  I jump at the opportunity to get away from my bag where those temptations lie. “Absolutely.”

  ZACK

  Two hours. That’s how much time is left on this double I’m pulling. I hate it when you want time to fly and it decides to pass at a snail’s pace.

  If I were sleeping, four hours would feel like five minutes, but no such luck here. We got a shipment a few hours ago that wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow, but my supervisor asked if I could stay and get it all done. Because I need the money, I agreed and that’s how you turn a twelve-hour shift into a sixteen-hour one.

  Since I’m the only one here, I decide to grab my phone. I know it’s against company policy or code of conduct—whatever it’s called—but I’m here alone and some music will help me stop focusing on the time and just get the work done.

  I head over to my employee locker and unlock my phone. I ignore the missed calls and text messages from the guys and head straight to the Spotify app. I find my workout playlist and hit play—it’ll pump me up for the next few hours for sure. I walk back to the storage room and I’m about to put my phone on top of some of the boxes when I get the urge to do one more thing.

  I need to see if I have another email from my tutor.

  Not because I find myself interested in what she says next, but because we need to set up a time for our session.

  I read through the email, glad I was right on a number of things.
First, she confirmed she’s a girl. Lynn’s a pretty name. I wonder if she’s pretty. I was also right about pegging her as the type of person who doesn’t often take back what they say. That’s a good quality to have.

  10 AM. That’s when she wants to meet on Saturday. I thought because we were meeting up on a Saturday that she’d pick a later time, a more reasonable hour. I don’t want to give her a tougher time, though, so I guess my ass will be up and at it at 10 AM for a tutoring session.

  She’s got jokes too. I smile to myself at that realization. We’ve moved from straight up hostility to some banter via email. Who would’ve thought? I laugh again when I read the line about Coach. I wonder if she’s witnessed his wrath directed at other football players. I also wonder if she’s tutored other players—of any sport.

  The desire to find out what Lynn looks like before Saturday gets the best of me. I find myself going on social media and typing in her name. Lynn. Lynn. Lynn. There are lots of results but none of them scream tutor to me. I guess I’ll just have to wait until Saturday to see her in person.

  I’d tell her to send me a selfie via text, but she rejected my request to exchange numbers. Apparently, this is strictly business and her phone is only for what, personal matters? How old is this girl?

  I push away all my questions and type out a response.

  To: ELW7564@braganuniversity.edu

  From: ZH2332@braganuniversity.edu

  Subject: Lynn, I like that.

  You got jokes, huh? You keep surprising me.

  Ten is really early, but because you’re being forced to deal with me, I’ll do it. Where would you like to meet?

  I figured you were a girl because of the way you write your emails. A dude would not write like that (see exhibit ME).

  Also, OUCH, can’t share your number with me? Why especially football players? I feel like this is an ad hominem attack. What do you have against us? Have you tutored enough of us to give up on the whole football race?