by Tia Lewis
What was he trying to do? Butter me up so I wouldn’t give his coach a negative report? I would have bet anything. Telling me his sob story about how he wasn’t allowed to read when he was a kid. I wondered if it was even true. Probably just another way to get on my good side.
I was so furious; I could hardly see straight. I stood, shoving my books into my bag. “I’m finished for the night. You’re doing your work. That’s great. See you tomorrow.” Then I stopped. “Unless you have some other plans, prepping for the big game on Saturday. You know what? I’ll just see you Monday.”
“Whoa! Wait! What just happened?” I was already walking away and didn’t stop to explain myself. Tears blurred my vision, as I tore out of the building.
I darted, with my head down, hands in fists at my sides. To think I’d even worn my favorite white blouse and a long, flowing floral skirt I thought was pretty. Was I dressing up for him? Was I insane? He didn’t even see me. I was a fool.
Fuck him and fuck the entire football team. I hoped their bus crashed on the way to the game. I let out a quiet little sob as I continued to my dorm. What was happening to me? Was the stress of it all getting too much to bear?
It might have been the tears blurring my vision, or it might have been the hem of my long skirt, but I tripped while lifting my foot to step onto a curb. The next thing I knew, I was on my hands and knees. Both stung, but not as much as my pride.
“Are you okay?” a familiar voice. A strong hand gripped my upper arm, pulling me to my feet.
“What are you doing? Get the fuck off of me!” I wrenched my arm away, mortified. “Are you following me home?”
Jake shrugged. “I follow you to make sure you’re okay. Sorry.”
All the fight left me. “You follow me? Every night?”
“Every night so far, yeah. I mean, it’s only the third night. I thought you could use some protection, you know? Better be safe than sorry.”
Now this wasn’t just to butter me up. I would have never known if Jake hadn’t helped me.
“I’m sorry I said something in there that I shouldn’t have. I mean, I’m kind of a dick. I spend most of my time around the players. We don’t censor ourselves, but I should watch what I say around you.”
I could have let it go at that. I could have let him think it was all his fault. But that wouldn’t have been right.
Instead, I wiped the dirt from my hands. “Do you want to know the reason I got so upset? I guess I should tell you if we’re going to work together this semester so you don’t think I’m this mentally unstable person.”
“Yeah, that'd be great,” he chuckled. “I mean if you want to. If it’ll make this whole process easier.”
I turned to walk towards my dorm, more slowly this time. Jake fell into step beside me.
“When I was in high school, I was pretty much the person I am now. A nerd. I got straight A’s, never missed a day of school. I didn’t have much of life. The head of the football program asked me to tutor the quarterback of the football team. He was failing out of school, practically.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Right? When my advisor first told me I’d be tutoring you, I almost died.”
“I guess it didn’t go so well.”
I sighed and looked away. “No. I did my best for him, but he only wanted one thing. He wanted me to help him cheat. He thought if he got me to fall for him, I would go along with it.”
“You didn’t, did you?”
I looked up at him, walking beside me. “What do you think?”
“You have more integrity than that.”
I chuckled. “Thanks. You’re right, too. I told him to fuck himself.” I went silent.
He cleared his throat. “So, that’s the reason you hate me? I remind you of him?”
“I don’t hate you,” I said sharply. “I hate myself. Because it wasn’t that simple. But I don’t want to talk about that. It hurt a lot. That’s all you need to know.”
“Hey.” He took my hand, stopping me. “I’m not that guy. You know? That’s not me. It never even crossed my mind to use you or whatever he did.”
“Yeah, okay,” I smirked.
“I swear.”
“You realize that’s not a compliment. Right?”
His face fell when he realized what I was saying. “Oh my God, I can’t win with you, huh?”
I laughed softly. “I’m kidding, Jake.” I wasn’t.
He sighed. “Can’t we just relax and be two people, instead of always bitching at each other? All we do is butt heads.”
“It’s not easy to leave stuff like that in the past. You know what I mean?”
He nodded. “I do.”
“You’ve never been like me. I bet you were always a star.”
“We all have our own shit.” It was all he said, but it was all he needed to say. Then, he looked down. He was still holding my hand.
I pulled it away. “Well, thank you for following me,” I murmured. “You didn’t have to.”
“I don’t let girls walk home alone. I know I can be an asshole, but I wouldn’t feel right knowing you were walking alone at night on campus.”
“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later, Jake.”
I was starting to think he wasn’t that much of a dick, after all, and I smiled to myself as I went inside. I was still smiling as I unlocked the door to the dorm room.
Jess had waited all of three seconds before she pounced on me. “What was that?”
“What?” I looked around then realized she could see us through the windows. Her desk was right up against them.
“Shit.” I sat on the bed, giggled to myself. I couldn’t help it.
“He was holding your hand!” she reminded me, punching me gently on the shoulder.
“It was nothing. Trust me. Jake felt sorry for me.” I bit my lip. “He does walk behind me to make sure I’m safe going home, though.”
She gasped before shrieking, “Shut up!” She bounced up and down on my bed. “That’s so sweet. Like something out of a book. Oh, I’m dying!”
“It’s nothing. It’s nothing. Come on. We can’t trick ourselves into thinking it’s more than it is. Because it’s nothing. Okay? Nothing.”
“Could you say ‘nothing’ just one more time?”
“Nothing.”
She laughed. “What's the problem?”
“He’s in one world, I’m in another world. That's the problem.” I stood up, going to the full-length mirror on the back of our door. “Look at me, Jess.”
“I’m looking.”
“And? Come on.”
She sat up, arms folded. “Okay. You want the truth?”
“Spill it.”
She looked me up and down. “You could be seriously hot if you tried.”
“Damn it, Jess. I thought you were going, to be honest.” I slammed myself into my desk chair, glaring at her.
“I'm not lying! Geez, you act like you should be standing in the middle of the town square in a sackcloth, ringing a bell. With a sign that says ‘Unclean’ around your neck.”
I had to giggle. “Okay, I’m not that bad.”
“Here’s the thing, though. And you know I’m the expert on this. I mean, all the costumes they fit me for? And the costumes I’ve fitted, when I work in the shop? I know my shit. And you should be dressing to accentuate your body. You hide it too much, and it makes you look sloppy. You’re not fat, for God’s sake. You’re curvy and beautiful, Claire.”
Then, she stood and came to me. “Your hair, you never do anything with it—you hardly ever even dry it. You need a cut and a style. Maybe a few highlights.”
“Oh my God,” I screeched.
“I know what would work for you.”
“I don’t know, Jess.”
“I do. And who cares about Jake? Why not look good for yourself?” She picked up a handful of my loose brown hair and let it float down to my face. “You’re beautiful. Come on. Have a little fun while you’re young. Get out with me t
his weekend and we’ll get you some sexy outfits and a haircut.”
That made me hesitate. “You know I don’t have the money for that.”
“You will once you get your first paycheck for the work-study. You’re making twice as much now. I’ll spot you until then. How does that sound?”
I took a look at myself in the mirror and sighed. “Okay.” It was worth a shot, anyway.
9
Jake
“Come on, boys! We’re only down three! Get your head in the game!” Zack made it his duty to rev the team up like we needed any help. The first game of the season had been a nail-biter all the way through. We might have been exhausted, we might have been damned near wasted and filthy and half-dead, but we knew what was at stake.
The offensive line hit the field. We needed to move the ball all the way down from our own twenty-yard-line in less than a minute. It would take a miracle—but we had one of the best quarterbacks in the conference.
“Okay,” Max said, huddling. “They’ve been all over the passing game all day, so we run. Brad, it’s all you, brother.”
“I’ve got this.”
I crashed helmets with him, praying he had it. Losing the first game after winning the championship the year earlier would have crushed the school.
The roar of the Indiana Hoosiers’ crowd was almost too much to take. My ears rang with it, but I couldn’t wear earplugs on the field, or else I’d miss the calls.
Max called, “Hike!”
I snapped the ball, and threw all my weight behind, blocking not one but two defensive linemen from getting to him before he handed off to Brad. From the corner of my eye, I saw Brad take off.
“Yes!” I screamed shaking off the Indiana Hoosiers players and running behind my teammates as Brad ran out of bounds at the Indiana thirty. A fifty-yard run. I could’ve kissed him.
We huddled up, trying to run out the clock as much as possible while leaving time to score. Managing the clock was always something we tried to work on, but it was tough when we wanted to keep the momentum going. “Okay, boys. Thirty yards to go. I want to run a screen, here. They won’t expect a pass this close to the end zone.” He was probably right, I realized. Max almost never passed the ball when we were that close. The Indiana Hoosiers had nearly read our minds all day, so I knew they’d been paying attention. I hoped it worked in our favor.
We broke the huddle, getting in formation. I heard the frustrated grunts from the other players, knowing how desperate they were to hold us in place. The clock sat at forty seconds.
Max made the call—I snapped, and then threw myself forward. They were desperate to get through to him before he released the ball. I put all my effort into holding them just long enough. That time, he threw a long spiral downfield. Straight into the arms of Nate, Zack’s backup wide receiver.
Anybody who didn’t know better would’ve thought we won the championship all over again, the way we jumped on each other and screamed. It was only a matter of holding the Indiana offense after that, and our defensive line poured on the field after the extra point went through. They were raring to go and made short work of it.
Our first win of the season. It was a high like nothing I could imagine.
I wished I had somebody there to cheer me on.
“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you tonight?” Brad handed me a beer. “You decide you don’t like to drink anymore?”
“No.” I tried to shake off the arm he slung over my shoulders. “I’m just not in the mood to get wasted, is all.”
“Why not? Come on, man. There are tons of girls here, and they want some football cock! We won, bro!”
“I thought you were hooking up with Jenny now,” I reminded him.
“Whatever. She’s probably off fucking one of the basketball players or something. The girl is a freak,” he said, then laughed like it was the funniest thing he ever heard.
“Yeah, you’re telling me,” I said. Like I didn’t know.
“So what’s the problem, bro? Come on. Let’s do some shots.” He tried to steer me in the direction of the kitchen, where a few of my teammates poured rows of shots without stopping. There was always somebody there to drink them.
I realized something as Brad tried to drag me to the kitchen. Parties weren’t as much fun when I didn’t get wasted.
That was depressing. I didn’t want to get plastered because I wanted to be up early enough to get in a quick workout, get some studying out of the way. I had to be serious about my grades. I told myself I could balance partying with studying.
But it wasn’t as much fun when I only had a beer or two. The people I used to think were so much fun were actually kind of stupid when they were drunk, and I was pretty much sober. Even the girls were a little sloppy. They never seemed that way before. Did I actually screw some of them? What the hell?
Right then, I hated my life. I wanted to go back to partying without worrying about studying. Back when I didn’t have to prove myself to anybody. Especially not Claire.
Funny how her opinion mattered more to me than Coach’s did. He could suck my dick, as far as I cared. But Claire was different.
I turned to Brad. “I think I’m going to go upstairs, bro.”
“Oh, you see somebody you like?” Brad looked around the kitchen, trying to pick out the girl he thought I wanted. “The little Asian chick in the corner, maybe?”
“No, man. I mean by myself. I have a lot of shit to do tomorrow, and I have a headache. I’m fucking wiped from the game, too.”
I was alone a minute later. In my room during a party, all alone. Hardly even buzzed.
I sat on the bed, and the vibrations from the music went through the floor, to my feet. The bed even shook a little. It wasn’t usually quiet in my room when I was there during a party, either. I never noticed things like that.
It made me remember being a kid, sitting in my room. Waiting for Mom’s “friend” to leave. She had a lot of friends. They were all men. I wasn’t allowed out of my room when one of them was over. So I’d sit alone. Sometimes I didn’t care. It was a way to read without her yelling at me to go outside and play. How many hours did I spend in that cramped room? I would wait for the laughing and squeaking bedsprings to stop. She thought the music she blasted on her stereo drowned it out, but she was wrong. Then, after maybe twenty minutes, she would knock on my door to let me know it was okay to come out.
I wouldn’t get that knock on the door this time, but I didn’t need it. I wasn’t that kid anymore.
I pulled out my books. Might as well study. Lady Chatterley's Lover. If I wasn’t getting any, I could at least read about somebody who did.
Monday night, I walked into the library and went straight to the table in the back, where I usually sat with Claire. Only somebody was already there. I took a step away, looking around for somewhere else to sit.
“Jake?” I turned back to the girl at my table. I knew her voice, but not anything else. Then it hit me.
“Claire?” No way. It was like looking at another person.
“Yeah. It’s me.” She grinned.
I took a slow walk to her, staring at her the whole time. Instead of wearing the oversized T-shirts and baggy blue jeans, she was dressed in a tight white tank top that hugged her body and an open button-down plaid shirt over it. Her tits filled in the top perfectly, and I could see her deep cleavage. The tan skirt she wore showed off smooth calves.
Her hair looked totally different, too. It used to be long, flat. Now it sat on her shoulders, shiny, with a little curl to it. She was even wearing makeup.
“I’m sorry I missed you. You look so different,” I stuttered.
“It’s okay. Come sit down.”
I put my book bag down. “How was your weekend?” I asked. “Busy?”
She laughed. “Yeah. Busy. I did a little shopping, a little haircutting. You know.”
I pulled my laptop and books out. My head was spinning. I couldn’t think straight. What the fuck was happening? It was
as if she turned into a girl all of a sudden. When did she decide she had a body she wanted to show off?
“How was your weekend?” She was taking notes on whatever she was reading so I couldn’t see her face. But she sounded a little pissed.
“Um, okay. Busy.”
“Did you have fun at the party?”
Why did I feel guilty? Like she caught me doing something wrong. I’m an adult. I can do what the fuck I want. “Yeah. It was a great time—since we won the game and all. We thought we could use a little fun. You should have been there.” No way could I tell her the truth that I had read until one in the morning then woke up with a massive boner after dreaming about one of the scenes in the book.
“I talked to your coach this morning. I told him you’re doing a good job.” She looked at me. “Don’t make a liar out of me, okay?”
“You didn’t tell him I partied over the weekend?”
“No, because I’m not your mother. But I think it would be good if you got serious.”
I nodded. “Okay. How did you know about the party?”
“I have my ways.”
“Such as?”
“Such as my roommate was there, and she saw you. She mentioned it because she knows I’m tutoring you.”
“Your roommate was there? How come you weren’t?”
She rolled her green eyes. “Yeah, right. I would be awesome at a frat party.”
“What? Have you ever even been to one?”
“Hell no!” She shook her head in disgust.
“Then how would you know what it’s like?”
“I just know I wouldn’t have fun. It’s not my thing.”
I didn’t argue with her because it wasn’t like I wanted her there. I didn’t want it getting around that I had a tutor. Even after a week, it still bothered me. The guys would never let me live it down. I could almost hear them. Plus, she didn’t seem like she knew how to let loose.
“Anyway, it’s a new week. And I have more work to do.” She pointed to my laptop. “So do you.”
