by Zoey Shores
Sure enough, when I look over, Archer has the king of all shit eating grins on his face.
“Bro,” he intones. “You still have a crush on her.”
I roll my eyes and shove his shoulder. “Knock it off, man. What are we, in middle school?”
“Luke’s first love,” Archer says, sarcastically making it sound like a dramatic monologue.
“You’re just trying to change the subject so that I forget about how my beautiful pass sailed right through your hands. I’m gonna have to tell coach that’s something you’ll need to work on this season.”
Archer bursts out laughing. I was hoping against hope that might shut him up, but I don’t think I’ll have any such luck. “First of all, you overthrew that ball, and you know it. Second of all, that was an attempt to change the subject if I’ve ever seen one in my life. Hands down the most blatant and sad attempt at changing the subject I’ve ever heard.”
He’s got me on both counts this time.
“Was she by chance the special girl who took Luke’s v-card?”
I ball up my fist sock Archer in the shoulder. “Ow!” he says through laughter, recoiling back.
“No, dude, nothing like that,” I insist.
“Alright, I can see you’re touchy about this girl. Just don’t let her get to your head during our opening game next week.”
“I’m not touchy about her.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m not.”
“Uh huh.”
Again, I must be trying to convince myself, because I’m not convincing Archer right now.
“Anyway, Lincoln is really on our ass to go to that party tomorrow night,” Archer finally relents and changes the subject.
“At the Alpha Kappas?” I ask, groaning.
“Yeah.”
Myself, Archer, and our roommates Chase and Lincoln all transferred into Winthrop last year, scouted to play on the football team. Winthrop University is one of the most prestigious universities in the country, full of old money and future hedge fund billionaires. You’ve basically gotta have a 7.0 GPA in high school or have your parents donate a new library to get accepted here.
Those kinds of standards did a lot for Winthrop’s prestige, but not a lot for its football program. Two years ago, the donors decided they were tired of their alma mater having a pathetic football program, and they demanded the university beef it up to compete with the big names in college football.
This led to the university hiring our coach, Coach Riker, paying him big money to lure him away from a potential head coach job with the NFL. Coach Riker came in with a big mandate to do whatever it took to turn the football program around – and he started by scoping out the best undiscovered talent he could find. All the diamonds in the rough.
Even though I got expelled from high school, had to finish online, and play for a community college football team in the most minor of the minor leagues, Coach’s scouts were all over the place, and I got discovered. He brought me in for a tryout, and I blew away all the competition. I earned the job of starting Quarterback.
Archer and Chase have similar stories. They transferred in as unknowns, scouted by Coach, and earned their spots on the starting roster with raw talent. Lincoln, on the other hand, is also a transfer, but he was already playing for a solid football program in Michigan, but Coach lured him away with the promise of a starting spot if he could earn it, while at Michigan he was destined to remain a second stringer.
Last year was the first football season with Coach Riker in charge. We didn’t make it to the playoffs, but we held our own against the very best teams in college football. Sports analysts said it was the greatest turnaround of any college football team in history.
The donors were happy. But not all of the students were.
Archer, Chase, Lincoln and I secured our spots by taking others’ spots.
We took the spots of the preppy rich boys who thought it was their birthright to play on the Winthrop football team. Yeah, it ruffled some feathers, alright. Even the former players who were good enough to stay on the starting roster are bitter about their friends being kicked off the team in favor of a bunch of working class, rough and tumble transfer students.
Plenty of students not on the football team feel the same way. Winthrop has been changing in generally – trying to become more MIT than Princeton, a place for the best and the brightest, not just for the richest and most privileged. The drama that went on behind the scenes on the football team last year was like a flashpoint for the larger conflict over Winthrop’s future.
And we’re right in the middle of it.
Some of our teammates keep trying to play peacemaker, though. Tristan is the classic old money preppy. But compared to most of the others, he’s pretty cool. Not a total dick, at least. He wants to bridge the gap and bring both the new transfer players and the old players together, to really act as a team, both on and off the field. Our roommate Lincoln is another one of the wannabe peacemakers.
Alpha Kappa is the frat most of the “old guard” are in.
Lincoln’s the kind of guy who’s hard to say no to, though; and I just know that even though I’m thinking there’s no way I’m going to another damn Alpha Kappa party, that by tomorrow night he’s gonna rope me into it.
“You know Lincoln, man,” Archer says. “That team spirit asshole is gonna keep forcing things until we’re best friends with Carson and Bryce.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, that’ll be the day.”
Carson and Bryce are two of the guys who kept their spots on the team. Sort of the ring leaders of the rich preppy squad.
Carson in particular hates my guts. Because I stole the starting Quarterback position from him. He’s a wide receiver now. I know he seethes at the fact that he has to catch my passes – the passes he believes he should still be throwing.
Then again, Alpha Kappa parties are usually the biggest on campus. Maybe Heidi will be there.
Not that I need distractions this year. I played well last year, but not well enough. I’m still a small fry, and our team is still a small fry team. If I want to be drafted, I need to get us into the playoffs.
That means more practice, more work, more dedication. And since I’m also majoring in Mechanical Engineering – because I can’t let the opportunity of going to a top school go to waste if football doesn’t pan out – I can’t let myself get distracted with romance. Or sex.
Still, it would be nice to reconnect with Heidi after all these years. Even though she didn’t exactly seem excited to see me.
But then again, it might be hard to accurately read someone moments after they’ve been whacked in the side of the head with a football.
“Alright, we’ll go,” I accept the inevitable. “But Lincoln’s making dinner tonight.”
Coach Riker’s imposed a strict diet regimen on us. He’s gung-ho about making the playoffs this year, just like I am, and he’s not letting us slack off on anything, including what we eat. When we all came back to campus and started practicing at the end of the summer, he made it clear that the days of pizza and hamburgers seven days a week were over.
To keep us accountable, he’s actually making us all post our nightly meals on the team Instagram. It’s killing two birds with one stone: Coach gets us eating right, and it drives brand engagement. The University board wants us to become one of the most recognizable teams in college football, as well as one of the most successful.
Archer chuckles and agrees. “Yeah, we’ll take the pictures.”
CHAPTER THREE: HEIDI
The next morning, our friend, April, visits us as our very first houseguest. Or apartmentguest, whatever.
“This place is so cute!” she chirps as I open the door to let her in.
“Did you run over?” Rory asks, stepping out of her bedroom. I, too, notice the sweat glistening off of April’s brow now that Rory mentions it.
“Just came over after my morning run,” April answers, her breath heavy.
“
Showoff,” Rory jokes, walking up to April and giving her a hug. This is the first time the three of us have been together since we left for summer break.
April wears short yellow shorts that show off her toned, athletic legs – I’d be lying if I said I weren’t just a tad jealous of them. But I know the work April does to get into this kind of shape; she’s a top player at the school’s soccer team, and she’s almost obsessive about her physical fitness.
She even has ambitions to make it to the pros after she graduates – something her parents aren’t exactly enthusiastic about. April comes from a wealth, traditionally-minded family who’d rather she find some future lawyer or business executive to marry after graduation.
I know there’s a lot of friction between April and her family, which just goes to show you that having money isn’t everything.
“You both have your own rooms, too,” she marvels.
“You don’t at the team house?” I ask. April is the same year as us – a junior – and she also just moved out of the dorms into a place off-campus. She’s living in a house on-campus that’s assigned to the women’s soccer team.
“Nope, we’re two to a room at Field House,” she answers.
I pout. “That stinks. I thought the team houses all had single rooms.”
April rolls her house. “Yeah, the houses for the men’s teams all have single rooms.”
“Boo!” Rory interjects. “That’s so sexist. We need to petition the President of the college to make this right! Add another wing to Field House!”
April laughs. “You go ahead and start. Maybe I’ll have time to join that crusade after pre-season training. I swear, pre-season training is harder than anything we go through during the actual season. Coach Dawson really wants to drill it into our heads that vacation’s over.”
I plop down on the fluffy green chair in our living room while April and Rory sit on the couch that caused us so much grief yesterday.
“Sorry for getting my sweat all over your new couch,” April smiles and shrugs jokingly. “I’m sure it won’t be the only bodily fluids this coach has in store for it this year, eh girls?”
Rory chuckles. “Not this semester, at least.”
“Oh, that’s right. You two really are serious about your no dating this semester rule?”
“Absolutely,” I nod. “No dating, no hookups …”
“No making out with guys at parties, no downloading dating apps …” Rory continues to list the conditions of the semester-long man-cleanse we agreed on.
A skeptical look passes across April’s face. “Uh huh, sure.”
“What?” I ask. “You don’t trust us.”
April raises an eyebrow, glancing at me. “Maybe you … but Rory?”
Rory laughs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I giggle. Rory’s definitely very confident and free in her sexuality – something I admire. Plus, she’s a theatre major, and her classes are packed full of cute guys, many of whom will be future actors. I’m forcing myself to believe, out of positivity, that we’ll both make it, though.
“Actually,” Rory’s eyes light up, aiming at me. “After what happened yesterday, if one of us gives in, I bet it’ll be Heidi.”
A warmth travels up the nape of my neck; I think I know what she’s referring to.
Scratch that, I’m sure I know what she’s referring to.
April’s face lights up, sensing gossip. “Oooh, what’s the story here?”
“There’s no story.” A pathetic attempt at denial.
Rory cackles. “Girl, Luke Tanner being your ex-boyfriend is a story if I’ve ever heard one.”
“What!?” April’s jaw almost hits the floor. She leans forward in her seat, looking at me with expecting eyes. “We’re talking about the Luke Tanner?”
The warmth I was feeling creeping up my neck has now spread into my cheeks. I can only imagine how much joy my blushing is causing Rory. Since I’m so much more modest and reserved than she is, she lives to tease me at moments like this.
“We sure are,” Rory answers for me.
“When?” April asks, enraptured. “Freshman year? Wait, no, he wasn’t even here yet … how could you have been dating Luke Tanner without us knowing?”
“It was in high school,” I answer. “And Luke will not be interfering with my man-free semester, Rory.”
“Hey, I’d give you a pass if it were for him!”
“No passes! Now you’ll use this to ask for one, too!”
“I knew this would be doomed,” April giggles.
“Fine, fine, you’re right – no passes,” Rory affirms.”
“But really,” April begins. “You dated Luke Tanner back in high school? Oh my God. What was he like back then?”
I cross my arms over my chest. Sharing stories about your first boyfriend with your girlfriends is one thing, but it’s quite another when that ex-boyfriend is now the most lusted-after guy on campus.
“I dunno, the same, I guess,” I offer pathetically.
“He was still hot back then, wasn’t he?” April asks.
“Duh,” I answer.
“Oh! He was your first kiss, wasn’t he!?”
I nod my head, trying not to let memories of that first kiss blossom in my mind – my face is already warm with blushing, and I don’t want that warmth to spread all around my body right now.
“What happened yesterday?” April turns to Rory, expecting she’ll get a more detailed – and enthusiastic – account of the reunion out of her.
“Luke Tanner threw a football at her face.”
“What!?” April reacts, turning toward me.
“It was an accident,” I laugh. “Just a freak occurrence.”
“And this is the first time you’ve spoken to him since he transferred in?”
I nod my answer.
“Why? Did you two have a bad breakup or something? –Ohhh, do you have a dramatic Luke Tanner breakup story?”
I roll me eyes. “Nothing like that. I just didn’t think he’d care to hear from someone he hasn’t seen in like six years. I didn’t want to feel like one of those insignificant people from his past who try to latch onto him now that he’s famous, you know?”
“How did you break up then?”
I feel hesitant – I don’t really want to dish out the dirt on Luke’s past. That’s his story to tell, if he chooses to. “He left the school we were going to. That’s it. Nothing exciting.”
A half truth if there ever was one. More like a quarter truth.
It’s true that there wasn’t really anything to our breakup. He left our school, and that was that. I didn’t see him again until yesterday. But why he left certainly was a dramatic story.
Like I said, though – not my story to tell.
April cocks her head to the side, an excited look on her face. “Well, if there are no hard feelings, who knows …”
Rory smiles mischievously. “If there are no hard feelings, you might just be feeling something hard before the end of the semester!”
I roll my eyes again – I feel like if this conversation goes on any longer, they might just get stuck in the back of my head. “Please, Rory, don’t let your insuppressible love of sexual innuendo undermine our accountability to each other for our no-guy rule.”
Rory giggles. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
April lets out a breath. “Well, I won’t be joining you girls on your penis-fast, but good luck.”
“Luke will still be around next semester.” Rory winks at me.
“Anyway, you guys are going to the Alpha Kappa party tonight, right? Most of the girls on the team are moving back on campus tomorrow, so don’t make me go alone.” April asks.
“I don’t know …” I answer less than enthusiastically.
“She’s worried she’ll see Luke there.” Rory pounces, wearing a wry grin on her face.
“Unlikely. All those new transfer students and the Alpha Kappa guys hate each other,” April comments.
Rory laughs. “Oh yeah, doesn’t the football team have some kind of big drama going on like a bunch of middle schoolers?”
I nod my head. “Yeah, the new coach recruited a lot of players from under-recognized schools, and a lot of the Alpha Kappa guys lost their spots on the team. Plus, the Alpha Kappa guys are all rich jerks, so don’t like the idea of a bunch of lower class transfer students coming onto the team in the first place.”
Working for the school newspaper, I heard more than enough about this whole scuffle last year. If there’s one thing that can actually sell newspapers in the twenty-first century, it’s catty college drama, apparently. Whenever we ran a story about the dissension in the football team, the papers flew off the shelves.
Whenever we featured a story that was actually *ahem* real journalism – not so much.
But like Professor Gasten, the newspaper advisor, says: you can’t choose your reading public, you can only serve them.
“We’ll be there then,” Rory pronounces for the both of us.
I sigh. “Yeah, why not?”
It’s true that Luke isn’t likely to show up at an Alpha Kappa party – of all the transfer students that the Alpha Kappas resent, he’s enemy number one. Because he took the top spot: Quarterback.
Yeah, it’s unlikely I’ll run into Luke anywhere for the rest of our time here at Winthrop. Not at the party tonight, and probably not anywhere else, either. It’s probably for the best.
CHAPTER FOUR: LUKE
“Hey guys, glad you could make it!”
Tristan’s voice cuts through the pounding music in the crowded and bustling living room of the Alpha Kappa frat house. Tristan wears a wide smile on his face, trying to exude hospitality toward us, knowing that we know we’re in enemy territory.
He and Lincoln really are two birds of a feather, trying to smooth things over between the new and old players for the good of the team.
Not that I think they’ll really succeed, given the evil eye that Carson’s been casting my way since he saw me walk through the door. But still, Tristan’s a good guy, and I appreciate his sentiments.