SNAPPED: Part 1

by Ketley Allison

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  “Dude.” Lara’s monster-loud voice greeted me when I dragged myself into the kitchen.

  I had one hand on my forehead while the other held onto the wall, maintaining my precarious balance as I walked.

  “I need to get my own place. Or at the very least, get my own honey so I can compete with your sexfest.”

  “Ew,” I said, my voice rough with sleep. “Don’t put me and sexfest in the same sentence because that means you’re picturing me doing it.”

  “You leave me no choice.” Lara poured me a fresh cup of coffee. I made grateful whining sounds behind her.

  “There I was, sleeping soundly,” she said, “until a coyote woke me up.” She held her fingers to her chin, her eyes raised as she shook her head. “I wondered, what’s a feral canine doing in my city apartment? Am I back in Arizona? Then I realized, oh wait, that’s the sound of my bestie having naked animal sex across the hall.”

  “Stop with the sex talk.”

  “Drink your coffee.”

  I held both my hands out for the hot mug and took tentative, scalding sips, and my pounding head was grateful.

  “To think a little less than a year ago you were a virgin.”

  I sliced a glare at her over the rim.

  “Hey, bask in it. I’m jealous. Need to get me a man.”

  I leaned a hip against the counter, unwilling to continue standing on my own. “I think I have one for you, actually.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  It wasn’t an excited inquiry; it was more of a hesitant, “I don’t want to date cracked-out law students, and those are the only people you know” type inquiry.

  “If it’s someone from Slade’s team, I’m interested. If it’s someone from your dusty library land, I ain’t crossing that border.”

  I took another sip, this one much longer. “Not quite.”

  “You can introduce me to him after the game tomorrow I suppose. If I deign to amuse you. Oh!” Lara set her mug down. She hopped up onto the countertop to sit beside it. “Never mind, you can take me to the locker room!”

  I moved out of the kitchen and into the living room. The sectional couch was calling to me. “Nope. Not taking you there.”

  “Why?” She asked behind me. “Everyone goes to the locker room. The press, lucky fans, people whose dreams come true. Why can’t my dreams be realized?”

  I sat on the corner cushions, moving little by little so as not to anger my brain, until I was encased fully in black leather. Slade must have sat here recently because his cologne wafted toward me. Grapefruit, sandalwood, and some other indeterminate musk. It was a clean scent and matched him; it was like his energy in a bottle.

  The couch dipped beside me, and the squeal of leather followed as Lara curled sideways and made herself more comfortable so she could scowl at me.

  “I’m not taking you to the change rooms. You know how Slade gets after the game. He needs his moment of quiet, especially after dealing with the media.”

  Lara blew on her mug, an impatient burst that was more spit than cool air. “So who then? Not that I’m that curious.” She held out a manicured hand and inspected it.

  “Reagan’s brother.”

  “Okay, no.” Lara pushed off from her side of the couch. “That girl is like five foot five on a good day.”

  “If you’d let me finish—”

  “Way too cutesy and goody sweet shoes for my taste. I can only imagine what the boy version—”

  “You haven’t even—”

  “I’m picturing a caterpillar with glasses—”

  “Lar—”

  “Don’t you know me at all?” She moved her hands to the side, one holding her coffee as she gestured to her body. “Don’t you remember my requirements?”

  My head fell back and I closed my eyes. I gave up. My mind was assaulted enough already. “Are you finished?”

  Lara balanced her mug on her crossed legs, very Zen. “Yes. I am.”

  “Good. Come with me after Slade’s four o’clock game tomorrow. Reagan will be there, and you can make your decision and leave if you want.”

  “Come with you where? To the computer lab?”

  “Don’t get snarky,” I said and took another long, cleansing sip. Give me strength. “To this live-band bar in the Lower East Side. 5B Rock, I think it’s called.”

  “Huh.”

  Excellent. I’d caught her interest. “Now shoo. I have to get a ton of reading done today due to my stupid partying last night.”

  “Ha. You. Partying.”

  “Go away.”

  “Fine,” she said, uncurling and stretching her legs. “I have an interview today anyway.”

  “You do? Lar, that’s amazing!”

  She waved me off. “Not really. Some waitress gig. Or bartending. I can’t remember. But I have to get off my tush. Sadly, your brain is beginning to rub off on me, and I need to go be productive somewhere.”

  “Good! I love it when my Batty gets all smart.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The left side of her lips tilted up in a closed-mouth smile. “I’m going to take a quick shower, bemoan my lack of a sex life, and then seduce an entrepreneur into giving me a job at his restaurant.” She stood. “Don’t be jealous.”

  I finished the rest of my coffee, already aching for a refill. “I’ll see you tonight then. But if I don’t, Slade’s sending a car to take us to the game at two tomorrow.”

  “Excellent. I don’t suppose he’ll be packing some shirtless understudy players in the car with us?”

  “Nope,” I said, heading into the kitchen and pouring another cup. “Just you and little ol’ me. With a shirt. And I think they’re called backup players.”

  “It’s always been you and me, Brain,” Lara said, poking her head into the kitchen. She winked. “I’m with you ’til the end.”