Draw Play: A Sports Romance

by Tia Lewis

  Something about that realization made me a little sad. I couldn’t put my finger on why. What difference did it make, either way? If anything, I should have been happy that I didn’t have to dream about him anymore.

  Now that we had done it, though, there was less chance we would do it again. At least, there was in my crazy mind. It was the way I thought. I always expected something dreadful to happen. He would realize he’d made a huge mistake, cut, and run. He would tell his coach he didn’t care if he failed. He would drop football and decide to become a monk because I had scarred him sexually.

  Be calm. Be calm and remember it’s just a job.

  It wasn’t anymore, and I wasn’t sure having sex with Jake was a very bright idea. Now I would have to face him almost every day for the rest of the semester. It might get easier over time … but what if it didn’t? What if every day was like this one, trying on clothes, tossing them aside, never being satisfied? God, it would kill me. And I would never get anything else done.

  I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror. Calm the fuck down. You’re brilliant. You’re strong. Your worth isn’t measured by whether or not some guy wants to sleep with you again. None of that matters. You’re amazing, just the way you are.

  Jess came in from the shower, took one look at the pile of clothes on the bed and laughed.

  “Come on, Claire. You can’t do this to yourself,” she said.

  “I don’t know what to wear. I’m at a loss.” I sat in the middle of the pile, miserable.

  “What’s wrong with all the tops and skirts you bought when we went shopping?”

  “He’s seen me in all of those,” I muttered.

  She laughed. “Claire, men don’t remember things like that! You could wear the same thing a week straight, and he wouldn’t notice. Not because he doesn’t look at you, but because he doesn’t see. He’s thinking about the body underneath the clothes. Trust me. With that in mind…” She went through the pile, pulling a few things out. “Here. Tank, cardi, skirt. Brown sandals. Done. Now get dressed and get the hell out of here already so I can prepare myself for the show.” She rubbed a towel over her beautiful blonde hair. How many times had I longed for that hair? But Jake seemed to like my plain, mousy hair. A little touch-up from the stylist hadn’t hurt.

  I dressed in a hurry and then gave her a hug. “Thanks. Break a leg tonight. I can’t wait to see you.”

  “If you miss it, I’ll understand why.” She winked.

  I blushed furiously as I left, but couldn’t help hoping…

  15

  Jake

  Coach stuck his head through the locker room doorway. “It smells like a goddamned moldy sock in here. Damn it, would you open the windows, please? I can smell it down the hall, in my office!”

  “Maybe it’s your office that stinks, then,” Brad pointed out.

  We all laughed, including Coach.

  He looked at me, where I jogged on the treadmill to cool down. “How’s it going, Jennings?”

  “How’s what going?” Max looked up from his pushups.

  “Nothing,” I said, giving Coach a look. “I’ll catch you later.” It seemed like he understood. Either way, it got him to disappear before things got any more uncomfortable.

  “I had some issues last week with tightness in my legs. I told Coach about it.” It was a pathetic excuse, but it was enough for Max.

  “I’ll tell Sam about it. Maybe she could help you.” Ever since Zack started physical therapy for his injury and started sleeping with his physical therapist, he was the expert. He recommended his girl to everybody.

  “Thanks.” I went back to running. Preston caught my eye. I gave him the same look I gave to Coach.

  “So, what’s the plan for tonight, boys? Party, of course.” Brad pumped his fist in the air.

  Max laughed. “Of course. It’s not even a Friday!”

  “‘Cuz everybody will be gone tomorrow night, bro! Fall break!” His comment resulted in another round of fist-pumping.

  Fall break. What would it be like to look forward to it? I wished I could afford to go away, like my friends. Preston and a bunch of the other players planned to go to Miami. Zack was going home, as was Max. Brad was going skiing.

  I was going home, too. Only I didn’t have the sort of home Zack, and Max did. Zack’s dad was, like, filthy rich. I didn’t even have a dad. I had to go back to a ghetto that looked worse and worse to me every time I revisited. I stayed silent while the rest of them talked about their plans, focused on my workout.

  After my shower, I went to Coach’s office. “I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I didn’t want any of them to know.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I don’t know. My teammates will think I’m stupid. They all do okay in school except me. If they found out, I wouldn’t hear the end of it, and frankly, I could do without the added stress.”

  “I understand. So, how are you doing now?” Coach asked.

  “Honestly? Pretty well. All A’s so far, Coach!”

  He raised his eyebrows. “In everything?”

  “Everything.” It felt good to say.

  “So that tutor of yours is worth all the money I’m paying her,” he said.

  “Wait—you’re paying her yourself? Out of your own pocket?” I was so surprised. I sat down in front of his desk without thinking about it.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Because like I told you before, I’ve seen who’s worth it and who’s not. You’re worth it. And the team needs you.” He cleared his throat.

  I knew what that meant. Enough mushy stuff.

  “Thanks,” I said. It sounded lame. I should have said more. It seemed to be enough for Coach, though.

  He waved me out of the office and went back to work.

  “Hamlet is a great play,” Claire said. “I know you’ll love it. I can’t wait to talk about it with you.”

  “Is there anything you haven’t read? I thought you were a pre-law student.” We sat at our table in the library. I had been nervous walking in, wondering how she would act. She was totally cool. I should have known better than to worry about her.

  “I did a lot of reading in high school. Most of my classes were AP.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  She frowned. “What’s so bad about AP?”

  “Nothing. You misunderstood me.”

  “No, no. I think you were saying that there’s something wrong with AP. The way you said that your voice was all … sarcastic.”

  “Because you’re an overachiever, not because AP courses are stupid.”

  “Oh, I’m an overachiever. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “Aren’t you? And what’s so bad about that? It’s not an insult.”

  “No, unless somebody says it like it is.”

  “I didn’t mean to say it like it was.”

  We whispered fiercely back and forth, leaning toward each other from opposite sides of the table. Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling. I wanted to fuck her brains out.

  Whoa! Stop it. I sat back, moving far away from her. That was weird. And there I was, worried about her being the one who acted differently because we did it.

  She leaned away, too, going back to her books. She scribbled furiously on her notepad.

  “I really didn’t mean it that way.”

  Scribble, scribble. “I know you didn’t.”

  “Sorry, I pissed you off.”

  “Sorry, I got upset.” Scribble, scribble.

  “So … Hamlet is a great play, huh?”

  She stopped scribbling, putting down the pen and covering her face with her hands. “Yes, it is.” She laughed.

  I smiled to myself then went back to typing my notes from the classes I had that day. I never would have thought it possible, but exams and papers were easier than ever. I had never felt like I was on top of things before I met Claire. I was always scrambling to keep up with deadlines and studying. I thought that
was how everybody did it—I wasn’t kidding when I told her I never learned how to study. Using the things she taught me, I did better than ever.

  Except when I was with her. I could type notes, but even then I couldn’t concentrate. I kept losing my place or typing the same things twice. When I did homework in my room, I never screwed up—even when a dozen guys watched a football game in the living room.

  It was her. It had to be. I couldn’t stop looking at her after having her. I imagined her curvaceous body under her clothes. I loved it when she wore those tank tops that pushed her tits up, and the skirts that gave me a look at her legs. I remembered when they were wrapped around me, and felt so smooth against my body.

  I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She was deep in thought over what she read. She tapped the pen against her mouth, and all I could think about was the way her mouth felt on mine when I fucked her.

  Stop this. Stop now. Too late. I felt my cock start to harden under the table as I got lost in my daydream. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about her.

  My eyes drifted down to her chest. She must have been shaking her foot or her leg because her tits jiggled. It was just enough for me to notice them. My mouth watered for more of them. They tasted so sweet. I licked my lips, thinking about sucking those perfect, pink nipples.

  “What’s wrong?” She looked at me, and it was evident my eyes were on her chest.

  “Nothing.” I went back to looking at my screen.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

  “I don’t know. You seemed distracted. I thought you needed help with something.”

  Yeah, I need help for this ache in my pants. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on my work. She didn’t need to know I couldn’t get her out of my head. And it was all because I’d fucked her in the first place. It shouldn’t have happened. I shook my head and started to type anything I could think of, just to make her think I was working.

  “How did that Sociology exam go, by the way?”

  “Hmm? Oh, great. I got an A.”

  She clapped softly. “Congrats! And you thought you wouldn’t.”

  “Typing the notes really helps. It does. Thanks for that tip.”

  “Anytime.” She grinned.

  I was still hard as a rock, and I imagined taking her on the table right then and there. She had no idea what was going on in my head. I felt dirty, like some degenerate who couldn’t stop thinking nasty thoughts. I couldn’t help myself. She did it to me.

  I looked at the calendar she helped me set up, and my eyes went wide. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “The Heidi Chronicles. I totally forgot it was this week. I have to see it tonight—I’m driving home after class tomorrow, for fall break.”

  “Oh. And you need to write a paper on it, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t see it otherwise.”

  “My roommate is in it. She’s the lead, and I actually planned on seeing it tonight.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, after we finished up. I’m going home tomorrow, too.”

  “Oh.” It was obvious. It was right out there. All I had to do was ask her. What was stopping me? It made total sense, sitting together. And that was all we’d be doing. Sitting next to each other. If I didn’t say anything and went separately, I would look like a total douchebag.

  “So, um, we should go together, then. Right?” I looked at my laptop but glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Her skin went red.

  “Yeah, sure. I guess we should. It only makes sense. If you have any questions, you can always ask me.”

  “You don’t think I can handle a simple play?”

  “Sorry. That was condescending. I meant afterward. I’ll see it, you’ll see it, and if you have any questions about what to write on your paper, I can help you. Does that sound better?”

  “Only a little.”

  I hadn’t expected so many people to be there. That was the first thing that bothered me.

  Why did it bother me? I wasn’t sure. I saw notebooks on the laps of a handful of people as we walked up the stairs to a pair of empty seats. I wasn’t the only one there because I had to write a paper. So it wasn’t that.

  What, then? Her? I wasn’t embarrassed to be with her, was I? Shit, if I was, it was a little too late for that. I had already fucked her. Too late to be embarrassed.

  She wasn’t the type of girl I would normally be with. I told myself it didn’t matter. So what if she wasn’t a cheerleader, or in a sorority? Why did I care so much how it looked to other people?

  I was so deep in thought; I didn’t hear what Claire asked me. “What did you say?”

  “I asked if this was the first time you had ever been here. In the studio stage.”

  “Oh, yeah. This is my first-ever play here.”

  There were seats on three sides of the room, and the stage sort of sat on the floor in the middle of them. It was a simple stage, just a few platforms and a couple of pieces of furniture. Claire explained that was because a lot of time passed during the play, so the set needed to be simple. She said it in a way that told me I should write it down, so I did.

  I could tell she was smiling as I wrote. I could hear it in her voice. “You’ll like it, I think. I’ve read it a few times. It’s a great play. It won the Pulitzer.”

  If you’ve read it, why am I here? The question almost came out, but I stopped myself. Even I knew that would have been a dickhead thing to say. Knowing her, she might have punched me in the eye. I would have deserved it.

  The lights went down, and I told myself not to slouch in my chair. I couldn’t believe I had to sit through a play the night before fall break. There was a party at my frat house and everything.

  I glanced at Claire. She had a smile on her face, and I knew it was because her roommate was onstage. I watched her for a few seconds. She was proud of her friend. She looked beautiful. I had to smile, too.

  During the intermission, we stood in the ridiculously small lobby, sharing a soft pretzel from the makeshift concession stand by the door. I watched as she lifted a piece to her mouth and popped it in then she licked the mustard from her fingers. I wanted to ask if she needed any help. I had to get myself under control.

  The buzz around us sounded pretty positive. It seemed like everybody liked the show. I liked it, too, but I thought more about Claire throughout the first act. Sitting with her, smelling her rose scented perfume.

  “What do you think so far?” Claire asked.

  I shook myself to stop acting like a fucking adolescent. “So far? I got to tell you, I like it.”

  “You do?” She cocked her head to the side. “You’re lying.”

  “No bullshit. I really do like it. I can see why it won awards.”

  “You think you’ll remember enough about it to write a paper?” she asked.

  “I thought that maybe you could remind me of the characters if I forget. And I have my program.” I pulled it out of the pocket of my laptop bag. “I’m set.”

  All I had to do during the second act was stop thinking about Claire, and I would be all right.

  I noticed the way a few of the girls in the lobby looked at me. I thought I recognized one of them as a girl I had screwed at a party. Maybe. It was dark then, and I was drunk. I didn’t want Claire to see her looking at me, so I stood between them.

  I didn’t ask myself why until I sat back down in the theater.

  16

  Claire

  “What did you think about your first play?” I asked him as we walked out into the lobby after the show.

  “It was good.”

  “Just good?”

  He grinned. “It was excellent. Okay? I really liked it.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, Claire!” I chuckled. “Jess was awesome, too. She’s an awesome actress. I didn’t think college actors could be so good.”

  “I believe she has a chance—a good chance. Wit
h her looks and her talent, she could go just about anywhere. I mean, it’ll take time, of course. But she’s got what it takes.” I looked around the lobby, where friends and family gathered to wait for their performers. “Do you mind waiting just a minute? I would love to let her know we were here.”

  He seemed to hesitate, and I was about to tell him to go on without me. After all, we weren’t dating or anything. It might have been an awkward request. Instead of turning me down, though, he said, “Yeah, that’s fine. I would like to meet her.”

  After that, there was no ignoring the pride I felt standing with him. He was with me! Yes, other girls, bow down to my awesomeness. He’s here with me, I wanted to say when I felt their eyes looking me up and down. I made it a point to ask what he thought about certain scenes, so when we talked, there was no way to miss that we were together. It was petty and a little childish, but I didn’t care. I never got the chance to go out with a man like Jake. He practically oozed sexuality, from his sharp jawline to the way he stood—I could go on. He was so cocky and sure of himself and made my knees a little weak.

  And we’ve had sex! I would have added, had I told the other girls off. Twice!

  Jess came out, cutting my vengeful thoughts short. “Sweetie, you were incredible!” I gave her a big hug. “Seriously, you made me cry.”

  “Really?” She beamed then looked up at Jake. “Oh. Hello.”

  “Jess, this is Jake. Jake, Jess.”

  “You were great,” he said, shaking her hand.

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “I’m glad you came. Hey! There’s a cast party tonight. You want to come?” She looked at us.

  I glanced at Jake, who looked less-than-enthused. I was about to speak, but he beat me to it. “I have to type up my notes from the show. For the paper I need to write, you know. I want to do it while it’s all fresh.” He looked down at me. “Maybe you could help me with it?”

  I felt myself tingle all over, starting from my chest, moving through my body in waves. “Uh, yes. Yes, I could do that. Sure.”