by Kate Stewart
Theo: Up to you. I can get you a ticket for this weekend.
Laney: A ticket?
Theo: Yep.
Laney: This is exciting. I would love that.
Theo: Give me your email.
She texts her email, and I send her a couple of student tickets.
Laney: You ass. So, you’re in THAT band. What do you play?
Theo: Not telling, I have to leave something to mystery.
Laney: Then how will I spot you?
Theo: Guess you’ll have to figure it out.
Laney: I suppose I’ll rough a game for you.
Theo: Not a football fan?
Laney: Meh. Not my favorite. BRB. I’m gonna have to go milk a cow for this lady’s order.
Grinning, I pocket my phone and scramble to the kitchen for a drink. I can still feel the residual sun on my neck and scalp. A steady thump above has me hustling across the living room in retreat. Troy isn’t exactly discriminate on when he decides to bring his conquests home. The girls he ‘dates’ aren’t my type, though with some, I can see the appeal. Escaping to the basement in lieu of a moan-infused shower, I sprawl out on the couch and spread out my books. I may have to share the house, but I’ll never share my basement. It’s a house rule.
I’m about to crack a book when my phone vibrates.
Laney: Why do guys think it’s okay to stare freely at my tits. Why? Tell me!
Theo: No clue. I’m not the spokesman.
Laney: Ninety or nineteen, doesn’t matter the age, they ALL do it. It’s disgusting.
Theo: Think of it as a compliment?
Laney: I’m going to pretend you didn’t text that. And I’d rather drop half a chocolate Ex-Lax into their coffee. (devil emoji)
Theo: That’s wrong on so many levels. Caffeine is already a natural laxative.
Laney: That’s me being merciful. Which reminds me, I’m almost out. Mind running to Rite Aid to bring me some? There is a free cappuccino in it for you.
Theo: Absolutely not.
Laney: Fine. Want to meet up after the game?
Theo: Sure.
Laney: Okay. Meet you at Harry’s?
Theo: See you there.
It’s not a date. She said friends at the store. Aside from her drunken confessions, and grocery shopping insanity, I barely know this girl. Besides, she told me herself she’s done dating for the moment. But was she specifically talking about the ‘bash-and-dash’ type of guy? Or men altogether? I reread the texts and decide there’s no use mulling over it. She said friends, so friends it is.
The front door closes, and I know Troy’s company has just left. Or maybe it was Lance’s latest.
I’m surrounded by womanizers.
Something I do know is that eventually, they’re going to learn the hard way. The thing is, they both know it, and they’re going to fight it until it happens. I, for one, damn sure don’t want to be around when it does. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the bigger the ego, the harder they fall.
Laney: Ugh. I really need that Ex-Lax.
Theo: Use your words, Laney.
Laney: I get fired for that.
Theo: How many jobs have you had since you started school?
Laney: Quite a few. I have this plan. I heard once that five to seven lines of income do a millionaire make. I just have to keep enough jobs to get that going. It’s my goal.
Theo: How many do you have now?
Laney: Three and a half. I deliver auto parts on Saturdays. It’s a half job.
Theo: And how many have you had?
Laney: Does this include summers?
I chuckle.
Theo: Sure.
Laney: Sixteen. I admit that’s a lot. I’m working on my people skills. I’m going to need them with my degree.
Theo: What’s your major?
Laney: Don’t laugh.
Theo: This should be good. *rubs hands together*
Laney: Communications and PR.
I spit my water out and full-on belly laugh.
Laney: In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea.
Theo: You think?
Laney: Damnit, I’m pleasant! ←said in my best Ouiser voice.
Theo: Who’s Ouiser?
Laney: One of my heroes. You have much to learn.
Theo: Apparently. And I can’t believe you chose PR, you’re about as subtle as a bullhorn.
Laney: I consider that a good thing. Bold is better. Gotta go. There’s a man who won’t come out of the bathroom.
Theo: I wonder why?
Laney: (all teeth smiling emoji)
Grannism—God invented sports for women to save them from hair loss. The older you get, the more you’ll realize it’s true and thank Him for it.
Laney
Theo managed to get me some decent seats, and I must admit I’m enjoying the game, well mostly because I brought Devin with me, and partly due to the three shots of apple pie hooch I took before we got here.
“Aww man, it’s so good to be out of the house,” she says, sipping her beer. “But I can’t believe you’re dating a guy in the band.” She nudges my shoulder. “Talk about pulling a one-eighty.”
“Not dating, hanging out. And thanks for coming. I would have felt weird sitting here with no one to talk to.”
“Hate to be the one to break it to you, but you don’t hang out with guys.”
“Sure, I do.”
She harrumphs. “Name one.”
“Garret.”
“Lie, you totally made out with him!”
“What’s with all the women in my life calling me out for being curious?!” I say, throwing up my hands. Hearing two distinct deep-throated chuckles, I look to my left where two guys are eyeballing us with shit-eating grins.
“Mind your business,” I snap at them before glaring back at Devin.
She, at least, has the gumption to look remorseful. “Sorry, but you did.”
“I don’t even remember.”
“Right after graduation.”
“Fine, well, I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m done with Batman.”
“What?”
“It’s a syndrome. A type. I’m done.”
“Oh, this should be good.” She swivels in her seat to face me.
“I’m serious.”
“Oh, I believe you believe it.”
“Think about it, Batman is the booty call superhero. Sexy-half face, looks amazin’ in the uniform, BUT, he only answers to the signal, at night. He never takes off his mask and only reveals his true colors once he’s already bedded the girl. I’ve been dating nothing but Batmen.”
“You’re unreal, you know that? You’ve spent real time thinking about this, haven’t you?”
“I really have, and my tastes are changing, my friend.”
“What’s the new one look like?”
“Theo? A little taller than me, lean build, ear length brown hair, brown eyes, trimmed beard. Adorable.”
She smirks. “Scrawny.”
“No, he’s not,” I defend. “Not at all. He’s just right.”
“You like him?”
“I do, but not that way. I don’t think. He’s not my type really, but you know he’s…appealing. Fun to talk to. We met and just clicked. I talk to him like I do you. Put it like this, if there were a family-sized bag of Doritos in the room, I would eat the whole thing in front of him.”
“That close?”
“It happened fast. We shared trauma.”
“So, you would show him your Google history?”
“Pshhh, girl, please. I would rather walk buck naked in the grocery store during bush-week winter than let anyone ever see my browsing history. Not even you are privy to that information.”
“Should I be worried about being replaced?”
“Hell no. You know better,” I say, giving her the side eye.
“Okay, so if you’re just friends, what do you need him for? Why not just hang with me?”
“Because I love you, but all you do anymo
re is plan your weddin’ and make me craft favors when I come over. I have thousands of glue gun burns to prove it.”
I cringe when I see her reaction.
“Sorry, but seriously, you know you do.”
She shrugs, the grudge leaving her face. “Fine, I do.”
“Not long now,” I say, motioning to the rock on her finger.
“Seven weeks, I’m so excited.”
“Me too,” I tell her sincerely.
Devin’s always had a mapped-out life. Her dad owns a sporting goods chain and the minute she graduated high school she assumed her position on the administrative side while taking night classes at a junior college. I could say she was born into the gravy boat, but she’s been working in her father’s stores since she was a tween. She earned her place. Even her fiancé, Chase, landed in her lap in a sense. He’s an asst. baseball coach and went in the store one day to place an order and came out with her phone number. Some days I envy her, most days I wonder if the life she’s planning will be enough to hold her. Then again, it could be my hang up. She seems happy, content, and that’s all that matters.
“You think I’ll get bored,” she says, reading the bad half of my thoughts.
I gape at her as she stares on at the game.
“No, I was just thinking about how happy you are.”
She cuts her glare my way calling bullshit.
“I have no objections. None. Chase is perfect for you.”
“You know, not all of us have ‘grass is greener’ syndrome. You’ve been dying to leave since we graduated,” she whisper yells, as the stadium rises to their feet cheering on a wide receiver who just scored, putting TGU in the lead.
“Dayum, I love my man, but he’s hot,” Devin says, looking up at the jumbotron. I glance to where she’s transfixed and see why she’s fish mouthed. There’s a picture of the player on the big screen, along with his impressive stats.
“He’s pretty,” I agree, turning my attention back to her to address her accusations. “And you know I’m happy here at home.”
“I know,” she replies, but only to be agreeable.
“Nothing wrong with wanting a little world experience. But Texas will always be home for me.”
Another nod.
“You can’t get sore about it yet, either. I’ve still got a lot of months left, and I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“I just have this feeling that once you see what’s out there, you won’t want to come back,” she says softly. “I know that’s selfish of me. I’m sorry I said it.”
“I love you too, Devil.”
Devin and I have been attached at the hip since grade school. I think in some way we envy each other. Her life is set, and mine is the complete opposite.
“Your new guy is up,” she says as half-time commences, and the band takes the field. It’s useless to look for Theo, there are too many of them. It’s not my first game, but I must admit I’ve never paid too much attention to the band. And when it comes to school spirit these days, I often find mine at the bottom of a bottle.
“Suddenly, I feel like a sad excuse for a fellow Ranger. Maybe I should get a new T-shirt.”
“You could have, at the very least, worn your school colors,” she says all high and mighty in her Grand T-shirt, a TGU emblem on her cheek. She glances down at my flowered sundress, cardigan, and boots.
“What? I went through this ritual my first couple of years, it’s not my first rodeo. And besides, garnet and mustard dry me out,” I say in poor excuse just as the whistle is blown and the fight song begins. Glancing around, I catch the stare of the guy sitting next to me on my chest.
“Eyes up here, buddy,” I say throwing a two above my nose.
“Just admiring the flowers,” he says with a shrug, “and the display.”
“Yeah well, they aren’t paw and sniff,” I retort dryly.
“Want to test that theory?”
“Please don’t start a fight,” Devin sounds up, her snarl directed at him. “I just got my nails done.”
He looks at us like we’re insane but averts his eyes. Nothing like showing your crazy to scare a feisty penis back into its shell.
The band begins to play “Thunder” by Imagine Dragons and Devin and I watch on in mild surprise.
“Not bad. I feel terrible I’ve never paid attention,” Devin says, breaking me from my thoughts. “I’m usually with Chase, so it’s always the game itself I’m interested in, you know? Half-time is usually when I get more beer and pee.”
“Same here.”
We both watch stunned as the Grand Band pulls off some pretty mind-blowing hat tricks which include spreading across the field to form a stick man who starts flossing.
“Oh my God,” Devin says through a laugh. “That’s awesome.”
“You know Theo’s here on scholarship,” I keep my eyes on the show. “He must be really talented.”
“I’ll bet,” she says in a tone that has me rolling my eyes rather than acknowledging her. “What does he play?”
“He won’t tell me. Isn’t that weird?”
“He’s going to make you work for it, huh?”
“Man, they must have to practice like crazy to nail this stuff,” I say as the crowd roars in appreciation. “I can’t believe I’ve never really noticed them before.”
“Me neither,” Devin’s clearly impressed. “First time for everything.” She turns to me, carefully reading my expression. “I’m calling it, you’ll be dating Grand Band Man by my wedding, and dumping him before Christmas.”
I fist bump her tit, and she has the audacity to look miffed. “His name is Theo, and that’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Hey, if we’re going on track record alone, I’m spot on with the timeline. But I’ll reserve judgment until I meet him, how’s that?”
“Better, though the sarcasm negates any good intent on your part. And like I said, we’re just friends.”
Devin regards me skeptically. “I guess we’ll see.”
Theo
I arrive at the bar a little over an hour after our game and spend a few minutes circling the crowd for Laney. I find her toasting another girl and am surprised at the relief I feel that she didn’t bring a date. Laney spots me and waves me over with a grin and a waiting beer as her friend joins the line on the dance floor.
“It’s a little warm,” she yells over at me. “I expected you sooner.”
“Sorry about that, it took a lot longer for me to get home and get changed.”
“Don’t worry, we’ve been fully entertained,” she grins at her friend, who is shaking her ass in a small circle with a few other women. In the darkly-lit bar I scan Laney, she looks hot in a sundress and a sweater that accentuates the cleavage I refuse to acknowledge for fear of poisoning. A minute of silence passes, and I can feel her eyes on me. I scan the crowd and the dance floor. “Good to see the two-step is still alive and well.”
Laney guffaws. “You mean to tell me, you don’t like country?”
“Not especially, no.”
“Well, that’s just sad,” she says, shaking her head. “I happen to love it.”
I shrug. “What can I say, I grew up in the burbs listening to other stuff. I don’t own boots. It’s so cliché anyway. When out of towners came to visit my family, they were always surprised when no one dressed and spoke like Yosemite Sam and our front yard wasn’t full of rolling tumbleweeds.”
“Ever been to East Texas?”
“No.”
“Well then, there you go.” Laney slams her beer on the table in afterthought. “I’m so disappointed in you, young man, where is your Texas pride?!”
“I have pride. Not all Texans have to wear boots and two-step.” I give her my best smirk, surveying her dress and boots. “And what do you have to say for your lack of school spirit?”
She grins over at me. “Well played. I’ll buy your next beer—”
“You bought my first one,” I counter, taking a sip.
“You
didn’t let me finish. I’ll buy your next beer if you’ll two-step with me.”
“No.”
She raises a brow in challenge. “Don’t know how?”
“I do.”
“Then come on, Grand Band Man, live a little.”
“He just got here,” the friend says breathlessly, scanning me before jabbing Laney in the ribs with her elbow. “Let him have one beer first.”
“Shut up,” Laney instructs before our introduction. “Theo, this is my best friend, Devin. Devin, this is Theo.”
Devin is the opposite of Laney, a platinum blonde with pale skin to Laney’s dark complexion.
“Nice to meet you.” She yells something else I can’t decipher, and we clink glasses and drink. The Rangers lost tonight, but there are no mourners in this crowd. And the place is crawling with TGU-covered alumni.
Devin’s eyes dart back and forth between us as I sip more beer.
“So, you two met at a party?”
“Yeah,” I offer, setting my beer on the high-top table.
“And then ran into each other at the grocery store?”
“Uh huh,” Laney says just as clueless as to where Devin’s going with her line of questioning.
“I’d say that’s kismet in a school your size.”
“That’s coincidence,” Laney reasons to keep us both comfortable.
“Well, my money is on kismet,” she subtly bumps shoulders with her best friend.
Laney not-so-subtly pinches Devin, who jumps.
“How long have you two known each other?” I ask to break them up.
“Since she stole my boyfriend in first grade,” Devin supplies in jest.
“Dirty Dustin,” Laney says, rolling her eyes. “I did you a favor. He stunk.”
Devin tosses back a shot and doesn’t flinch. “Puh-lease, don’t act like you haven’t been boy crazy even before you got your first starter bra. And I saw Dustin at the store the other day, he gave me the eye.” She tilts her head and gives Laney wide eyes, and it looks so ridiculous we both crack up.
“Well, not like that exactly, but he did,” she insists, wobbling out of her seat. “I’m going to the restroom.” She looks between us conspiratorially, and Laney shakes her head in warning before Devin saunters off singing Jingle Bells at the top of her lungs.