by M. J. Fields
Oh shit.
“We could do ‘Islands In The Stream,’” he suggests, and I immediately die a little inside. He notices. “You don’t know that song?”
“Yeah, and so does every middle-aged couple who has ever done Karaoke.”
“Not like we could, Flower.”
Thank God he’s good-looking. Thank. God.
“Hey, it’s Squad night. That means you’re with us,” Lisa yells.
“Let’s roll,” Christy calls.
He rolls his eyes. “Think about it, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile, and he looks at me oddly.
Too fake, I scold myself. Besides, his voice isn’t that bad, is it?
“Okay, see you around,” I yell over my shoulder as I turn around and run to the girls.
He laughs behind me.
“Get me the hell out of here,” I whisper when I get close to them.
We all pile in the Uber, and once Elle is buckled, we tell the driver that we’re ready.
“He wants to sing with me,” I groan out, and Christy smirks.
“That’s nice.” Elle smiles, looking out the window.
“If he could sing, it would be.” Christy busts up laughing, and so do the rest of us.
Elle looks at me. “So, are you two a couple?”
I shake my head. “I mean, we aren’t seeing other people, I guess, but we’re just doing the friends with benefits thing … Maybe? Hell, I don’t know, but I enjoy my time with him.”
“Even the time not between the sheets?” Lisa asks.
I giggle. “We’ve never actually been between the sheets.”
My phone vibrates, and I pull it out of my bag.
It’s a message, now two, now three …
“Girl, he must think you’re one hell of a friend,” Christy jokes.
I read his suggestions out loud, and we all laugh at each one louder than the last, even Elle.
Mitch: How about I Got You, Babe?
Mitch: Summer Nights from Grease?
Mitch: Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now?
Lisa busts out laughing. “He’s so white.”
“So, forty years old,” Christy adds.
Mitch: Opposites Attract?
“Ooo, he threw out something you might be able to go with.”
Mitch: Baby, It’s Cold Outside?
Me: Yes. I love that song.
“Oh my God, you agreed to that?” Christy throws herself back against the seat, laughing even harder now.
“I guess I did.”
It’s Friday night, and with tomorrow being a home game, the team is all staying at a hotel so they can’t get “in any trouble.”
The girls and I decide to stay in, which is good because I spend way too much money on Thursdays and, three months in, I’d rather not call my folks and ask for more money when they didn’t want me to come here to begin with.
A knock at the door startles all of us. When I open it, I step back. “Come on in.”
“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m just dropping off a package that was delivered.” When Fletcher hands me the package, I’m a bit taken aback.
“For me?”
“The address label confirms so.”
He waves at the girls. “Have a good evening.”
They all say goodbye, and I shut the door behind him.
“The cool aunt send another package?” Christy asks.
Lisa grins. “God, I hope so. She sends good stuff.”
“Last month, it was junk food and gift cards … Shit.” I laugh when I realize I’m not really that broke after all. “I haven’t even used any of them. I forgot.”
Lisa sits down next to me. “Hair products, polishes, potions, and—”
“And we’ve yet to use them either.” I set the box down on the floor. “We better have a spa day tomorrow, or we won’t have room for all this in our bathroom.”
“I want to do the keratin treatment.” Lisa smiles. “And yes, I know my hair’s already straight and shiny, but still, I have never used at-home beauty treatments before. It sounds so exciting.”
Seeing I am struggling to open the box, Christy jumps up and runs to her room. “I have a box cutter.”
Elle laughs. “Why on earth do you have a box cutter in your room?”
“Poor girl weapon,” she calls over her shoulder, and we all laugh.
With all of them around me, I hold out my hand. “Scalpel, please.”
“Yes, doctor of beauty.”
I slice the tape carefully, and open the box.
Odd, I think, as I pull the first bag out.
“What’s Adam and Eve?” Christy asks.
“Clearly, from my mom and dad. Aunt Max wouldn’t send Biblical propaganda.” I laugh as I tear open the plastic bag.
Elle gasps. “Um … I don’t think that’s from—”
“What the hell is this?” I ask, holding up a package that says: Satisfier.
Lisa, Christy, and Elle all cover their mouths and try to contain their laughter when it hits me.
“Oh. My. God.” I throw the package containing the little pink device across the room. “The cool aunt just lost her title. She’s now the crazy aunt!”
We all laugh so hard my stomach hurts.
“Okay, now the rest.” Christy pushes the box toward me.
“I’m kind of afraid.”
“Screw that. I wanna see what Max the Magnificent sent.”
Another bag contains massage oils. Another a slutty Santa costume.
“What in the fuck is wrong with her?” Although horrified and concerned for my aunt’s overall mental health, I laugh because this … this is hysterical.
Christy bends down and pulls out the last package. This one has a card attached to it.
“I really wanna see what’s inside,”— she giggles—“but it would be rude not to read the card first.”
“I don’t think I wanna open either.”
“Don’t be a fun suck.” Elle laughs. “This has made my month.”
“Hey.” I smile at her. “I thought you were a virgin, too.”
“Oh, I am, but my parents …” She cringes in disgust. “Total freaks.”
“Does she know about Mitch?” Lisa asks.
“What?” I gasp. “Hell no! I haven’t talked to her; haven’t even messaged. We send an email once a week.”
Christy cocks her head to the side. “I thought you were close?”
“We are, but …” I pause, not really wanting to divulge all my secrets. “My parents don’t approve of her lifestyle.”
They all look at me, waiting for an explanation.
“She’s gay.”
Lisa laughs. “So?”
I shrug. “And they think she oversteps with me.”
“What would make them think that?” Lisa asks, holding up the Santa hat.
We all laugh, and Christy thrusts the package at me.
“Open first, read later. I have to see what she sent.”
I rip open the package and out falls K-Y jelly, a pair of edible undies, and a pack of cigarettes.
“Oh hell, I need to meet this woman.” Christy falls back, laughing her ass off.
“I may have to call her.” I shake my head and wipe away the tears now falling from laughing so hard.
Christy pops up. “But first, the card.”
“Fine,” I cave, opening the card.
The front has a bouquet of flowers. No words.
When I open it, a gift card falls out.
“Read it!” Lisa insists.
“No pressure, but the suit will look great at Sound when we do our duet.”
“Plot twist!” Christy cries out, and they all laugh.
“I’m going to kill him,” I say and continue reading… to myself.
Thinking we should wait until after Thanksgiving so I can practice a bit. What do you say?
The rest of the stuff will come in handy whenever we can get away for a night. I haven’t kissed you in days, tasted
you in over a week, and I still want to wake up with you at least once before the semester ends, without worrying about roommates.
The smokes and lube are a joke. Well, unless you’re down.
Giddy-up, Flower.
MM
Mitch
I can’t help laughing when I look at the message and picture Jamie sent.
We rather enjoyed opening the very unexpected package delivered tonight, thought to be sent from my aunt.
Also … a heads-up would be great next time!
Then a facepalming emoji.
The picture is of the four of them, each holding an item, and Jamie looking at the camera like What the fuck!
“What’s so funny?” Logan asks before shutting his locker door.
I hand him my phone, and his face looks all sorts of pinched.
“The fuck is this?”
“Read the text.” I can’t help laughing.
“You … you … Is Elle holding—”
“K-Y? Yeah.” I chuckle.
“Why the hell would you send her that? Why not fucking flowers, man?” He shakes his head as he gives me back my phone.
“Wishful thinking?”
“So, now you’re an ass man, huh?”
“She …” I stop before telling him she’s a virgin. That’s not something I’m supposed to divulge. “She seems interested, so why not?”
“Will they be here today?”
“Do you think Jamie would miss a game?”
“Wasn’t really concerned about J—” He stops and shakes his head. “Probably not.”
“They’ll be here.”
He nods and starts to walk away.
“Hey.”
He turns around, and I catch a glimpse of confusion before he resorts back to the blank look.
“Today, it’s about the team. After the game—”
“Not in the mood for a party, man. Probably gonna go home.”
“You want company?”
He nods once, then quickly shakes his head. “Nah. I’m good.”
Running out of the tunnel and onto a field, surrounded by a screaming crowd, has always been the biggest rush. For the past almost four years, it was the one thing that I could count on to put my head in the game. It was, after all, those people sitting in the stands on aluminum benches that gave me a reason to put one hundred and ten percent into the game.
Playing here at the Dome is different than at home. I don’t search the crowd here to see if the old man showed up, to see if Cara is wearing a warm enough coat, has her hot cocoa, or to find Lily to fucking ground me. Here, no one knows my past, and all hope to see me have a bright future. That is the best feeling in the world.
Team.
I look around for Logan, who is always before me as team captain and shit, but today, he’s lagging behind.
I fall back beside him. “Head in the game, Links.”
“No shit,” he snarls.
“I’m not fucking around. Head. In. The. Game.”
He looks pissed but gives me a firm nod. “It’s in.”
I smack his padded ass. “Fuck, yes, it is.”
He shakes his head and smirks. “Now he’s an ass, man.”
When he runs ahead of me, I can’t help laughing.
On the field, I look up. “You got me?”
I get that warm feeling that says she does.
At halftime, we’re behind by fourteen and getting our asses chewed.
“We have the best defense in college ball, and you look like a bunch of Pop Warner playing jackasses who just learned how to buckle your own fucking helmets!” Coach Brown screams at us. “Tillman’s getting his ass handed to him, and our backup hasn’t played a game all fucking season! His balls haven’t even dropped, for fuck’s sake! Links and Jones are triple covered out there. One more hit, he’s out, and we can kiss our winning streak goodbye. Now get your heads in the fucking game!”
The second play in the second half, and Tillman’s railed. He’s out, and Coach Brown is with Whitman, who looks like he may piss his pants.
“You were state champion QB, right?” Links asks before taking a swig of water.
“Yeah, but …” I stop when he jogs over to Coach.
“The fuck are you doing, Links?” I yell at his retreating back.
I watch as he says something to Coach, and read Coach’s lips, “Are you fucking kidding me? We need him on defense.”
Links shrugs, smirks and heads onto the field.
Four plays in, Whitman hasn’t moved the ball five yards, and Duke gets possession.
I see Logan in Coach’s ear again, and Coach spatting at him.
After Duke gets another touchdown, Coach calls me over.
“Your boyfriend thinks we should save Whitman because Tillman’s out for next week’s game. You want to play sacrificial lamb?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
“You need a warmup?”
“No, sir.”
He scowls. “You fucking stupid?”
I laugh. “Remains to be seen.”
“Well, get the fuck out there and don’t get killed.”
I run out onto the field and laugh when Logan winks, and we all fall into a huddle.
“This is gonna hurt, boys.” Logan laughs and nods toward me. “Moore’s stepping in for QB—”
“What the fuck?” Tank laughs.
“Saving Whitman’s shorts. Fucker’s terrified.” I laugh.
“And you think you can pull this out? You’re fucking defense,” Jones snaps at me.
“Better record than Cohen had in high school ball,” Logan tells him.
Jones shakes his head. “Bullshit.”
“Do I look like I’m bullshitting?” Logan glares at him then looks around the huddle. “Let’s go out there and see what we can do to salvage this shit show.”
“I’m not killing myself for some—”
“Fucking respect, team!” Logan screams at him. “Or sit your ass out, showboat!”
“You’re defense!”
“I’m wherever I’m needed. You should be, too.”
Logan calls the play, but I only half listen, feeling pretty fucking high right now.
Lined up, I look around the field and can’t help smiling.
Timms jogs up behind me. “What’s your snap call?”
I laugh out loud as I look at him. “Rosie.”
He shakes his head and bends down in front of me.
“Christ, Timms, your ass is big. You should be a linebacker.”
Timms laughs. “Stop staring at my ass and focus on catching the snap.”
“Don’t worry, big guy; I’ll catch your snap.”
Looking at the offensive line, I love that they are confused. I give 80 a wink, and he scowls.
“Lighten up; it’s just a game, man.”
“Jesus, Moore.” Timms laughs.
“32 is Mike. Fucking so is 80. 42, Green.”
I see Logan look at me like I’m nuts.
“Rosie!”
The ball is snapped. Everyone, including my team, is confused, but whatever.
Logan sprints downfield. No one expects it.
“Come on, baby,” I spiral the ball.
Logan catches it with absolutely no coverage and is able to run it fifty fucking yards for a touchdown.
The Dome lights up with cheers, and I laugh as I look up. “Stay with me.”
Coach left the field immediately following the last touchdown. He’s annoyed as hell, but the rest of us are still on cloud nine.
Walking into the locker room, all laughter stops when we see Coach Brown pacing.
He stops and turns around. “What the fuck was that out there, men! You played like a bunch of goddamned circus clowns!”
“Did the best we could, Coach,” Downs, who had his first career touchdown as an Orangeman, says.
Coach palms his face. “Fucking joke.”
“I think it’s called winning,” Jones says.
Coach looks up at him
. “It was called being a team, you little punk-ass hotshot.”
He looks at me and shakes his head. “Why the fuck do I have you on defense?”
I shrug. “You had Cohen.”
He nods. “Damn right, I did. The man with the golden fucking arm.”
Logan huffs, “And the platinum ego.”
Coach doesn’t look at him. He stays looking at me. “You didn’t do a damn thing I told you to do.”
“In my defense, I was trying to save my ass from getting pummeled and win a game.”
“Didn’t throw the ball to one of the players I instructed you to.”
“They’d have been sitting the bench with Tillman.”
He nods. “You pissed me off, son.”
It’s the first time in three years the man has called me that.
I nod and try not to smile.
“But, you fucking won us a game.”
“We, Coach Brown, we won the game.”
He walks up and hugs me. “Fucking right we did.” He steps back. “You’re QB next week, our last home game. I need you to learn the plays, be more structured.”
I can’t help smiling. “I’ll do my best, Coach, but I thrive on chaos.”
Showered and dressed, I head out of the tunnel with Logan to meet his family when I see her and freeze.
“Awesome game, Mitch!” She grins as she runs at me, jumps in the air, and I catch her. “Now take me out to dinner. I wanna tell you everything you’ve missed while playing hotshot here in Syracuse.”
Jamie
“You okay?” Elle asks.
I nod as I step out into the street, wanting to run and jump in my bed and sleep for … the rest of the semester. “Of course.”
“Oh my God!” Lisa screams at the fact that I just walked in front of a car, and I feel my jacket get yanked backward.
“Can’t have one of ’Cuse’s biggest fans get mowed down right after a fucking amazing game.”
I look back and see Lucas Links.
I nod, then shake my head and force a smile. Finally, I say, “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed. I got your back, Jamie.”
“You girls want to join us for dinner?” Tessa asks.
“I’m not feeling all that great,” I admit.
She feels my forehead. “No fever. What are your symptoms?”
