Wake the hell up, Court.
“I’ll thank you by saying, Thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”
“I think you can do better than that.”
“No, I really can’t.”
“Would you like some suggestions?”
I stared at him blankly as that sexy smile spread across his face again. From right here, I could honestly see why most girls dropped their panties at the sight of him and let him have his way.
I could also see that engaging in this conversation for another second wouldn’t lead to anything worthwhile, so I turned around and walked away.
Returning to my space in the cheer zone, I downed the water before joining in on the one part that I loved about every event: A yelled version of “Sweet Caroline.”
“See? That’s what I mean.” Coach Tina whispered into my ear once the song ended. “If Kyle Stanton had tackled me with his rock-hard body, in front of everyone, he would be walking me out of here and into his bedroom.”
I rolled my eyes and faced her. “You do know that he goes through girls on this campus like it’s his full-time job, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” She nodded. “But I also know that you’re a cheerleader. Your pussy is magical. Trust me on that.”
I trust that I should’ve quit the team last season …
Kyle: Then
Senior Year
Pittsburgh
* * *
Hours later
“Please behave this weekend, gentlemen!” The offensive coordinator stood in front of me, looking right into my eyes, the moment the bonfire ended. “There’s no game until next Saturday, but we don’t need any unnecessary distractions as we embark on this historic season, do we?”
“Sir, no, sir!” The entire team responded to him.
Well, everyone except me because I didn’t believe in making promises that I couldn’t keep. That, and I didn’t consider sex “unnecessary” in the slightest.
“I said, we don’t need any unnecessary distractions as we embark on this historic season, do we?” He repeated, keeping his eyes on mine.
“I heard you the first time.” I smiled. “Why does it feel like you’re only talking to me, though?”
“Because I am, Kyle.” He crossed his arms. “I fucking am. Don’t you dare throw that off-campus bonfire this year.”
“Bonfire?” I shrugged. “We just had the official bonfire tonight.”
“You know what the hell he’s talking about, Kyle!” Coach Whitten, the head coach and the guy who I’d come to regard as a father, called out from across the room. “Go home and watch some game film tonight. No parties.”
“That’s what I was planning to do, Coach,” I said, stepping closer to Grayson. “Ask the well-behaved Mr. Connors.”
Grayson shot me a “You’re so full of shit” look, but he took my side.
“It’s true, Coach Whitten,” he said. “Kyle will be with me tonight.”
“Well, in that case, the entire coaching staff can sleep easy.” Coach blew his whistle. “Everyone is free to go until tomorrow afternoon’s practice.”
My teammates stampeded out of the room, grateful for a rare day without a mandatory evening drill.
“Do I even want to know what you have planned for tonight?” Grayson asked as we walked out of the room.
“I’m dropping by a house party on Ophelia, then Dawson, then Ginza’s.”
“You’re doing three parties in one night?”
“It’s senior year,” I said. “I have to go as hard as I can long before TMZ Sports will report my every move after the draft, you know?”
“Or, you could say, ‘Hey, I’ve had enough fun for twenty guys combined over the past three years, and I’m going to give it a rest and get serious for the final two semesters.’”
“I mean, I could say that if you just want to hear me utter those words…”
“You’re the worst, Kyle. Truly.” He laughed. “What time do you plan to get back to our place?”
“Maybe five or six. Long after you’re done watching game film.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “Be careful, Kyle. We both have a lot to lose this year, and you know I almost came close to that.”
“Thanks for the lecture, Dad.” I smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Will you really?”
“No.” I patted his shoulder. “But I’ll tell you all about the party later, unless you want to join me?”
He looked tempted, but he shook his head. “I’ll see you at home.”
“Suit yourself.”
Around midnight, I parked my car on a curb near Dawson Street. Since this was one of the most popular off-campus blocks, almost every house was fitted with a basement that was prime for partying.
The slumlords had even joined forces with the landlords and put reinforcements in all the walls, since they knew the late nights were inevitable.
As I was stepping out, my phone sounded with a call.
My mother.
I stared at the screen for several seconds, silently debating whether this was worth handling now or later.
“Yeah, Mom?” I answered before it went to voicemail.
“Why haven’t any of those ESPN cameras ever showed up to our house to interview me and your dad?” she asked. “Surely, they want to hear what we have to say about you.”
I sighed. This definitely could’ve been handled later.
Or never.
“We turned on ESPNU last night and there was some ugly brunette impersonating me, Kyle,” she said.
“It wasn’t an impersonator!” My dad called from the background. “The world is coming to an end soon. They’re replacing all of us, and you got a glimpse of your imposter. That may not even be Kyle that you’re talking to right now, Mary.”
“I think it is …” She hesitated. “Is this my son? The real Kyle Stanton, or the one that’s replaced him?”
“It’s the one that’s replaced him.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Well, can you tell us how to reach the real one? I need to ask him some questions.”
“I’ll have him call you.” I ended the call and damn near tossed my phone into the gutter.
My parents were still shells of the people they used to be, and to say our relationship was “strained” was putting it nicely.
After losing my younger brother in a car accident they caused over a decade ago, they’d slipped out of reality in favor of a shared dystopia that didn’t exist.
Once my biggest fans and cheerleaders, they’d slowly transformed into my biggest skeptics and haters.
They stopped coming to my high school games, stopped driving me to practice, and stopped giving a damn because they felt like “it was only a matter of time before they lost their second son, too.”
Shaking away the painful thoughts, I put my phone in my pocket and walked down to 3257.
I needed a release tonight, more than ever.