“He’s my buddy. Everyone’s my buddy. It’s not hard to be my buddy,” I said, blurting out nonsense because I was so stoned.
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to just lose control, relaxing and inhaling the weed. This way, I could finally give up on all the bullshit that was bringing me down. I just wanted to be more chill.
I wanted to be like this hippie I was sharing the joint with.
“Do you do this every night?” I asked her.
“Yeah…”
I couldn’t do that, of course, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want it. I needed to unwind after a shitty week, so a couple of hits from a nicely-rolled joint was the right thing to do. Maybe now I could even learn to be more relaxed about things.
No need to be so anxious about other people being let down by me when I could just smoke the troubles away…
Fuck, I was getting stoned.
I wished Mia was here to see me. If I remembered correctly, her sometimes uptight character meant she never smoked either. So this would have been fun with her, exploring a side of her that nobody ever saw.
Ruining things with Mia was something I was regretting every day, so I was grateful for the haze of smoke getting in my brain, stopping me from feeling this way.
There was nothing I needed more than to just chill the fuck out.
I slowly lowered myself until I was lying down on the floor, hanging out with the hippie girl. There was loud music all over the place, sounding like Marvin’s kind of tunes, but smoking up made all that feel blurry and hazy…
I was definitely stoned.
“You got more?” I asked the girl. She gave me a big Cheshire smile and excused herself, probably looking for her mystery friend Gary.
Soon she came back, but not before bringing a bottle of whiskey as well. “I found this somewhere.”
We played some sort of drinking game, but she didn’t explain the rules too well, which was perfectly understandable given she spent more time inhaling from the joint than actually telling me how to play this drinking game.
But the mix of the drugs and the alcohol made me feel lightheaded quickly. I didn’t do this often, and even when I drank I usually stuck to just one thing. We were drinking Jack straight, and then every so often someone would join our little circle and hand out beers in return for hits on the joint, and sometimes there were other drinks too, gross mixes that felt way too strong.
I was feeling pretty good about this party. I didn’t care who the fuck these people were coming up to me and handing me drinks and joints, but if they were here enjoying this with me, there was no denying that they were my friends.
Well, sort of my friends.
I groaned. Fuck, I was stoned.
Super stoned.
Eventually Marvin brought Tyrone over. “We’re gonna take you to bed, okay?” my best friend told me, pushing everyone away.
“Why would you… do that?” I asked, slurring my words. I was going pretty wild, mixing Jack and cokes with the weed. That girl kept rolling joint after joint. “Hey, come on. It’s not like I was doing any hard drugs.”
“Man, you’re risking a lot right now,” Tyrone whispered to me. “We don’t know if Fiona’s here, or maybe someone else who’s recording what you’re doing and then sending it to her. We gotta look out for you, bro.”
I passed out as they dragged me upstairs.
But when I woke up, I woke up to the sight of Coach Frost standing over me.
“Bryant Howard,” he said, vocalizing every syllable in my full name. “I’m truly disappointed now.”
“Coach,” I said, blinking and hoping I wasn’t stinking of weed. “It’s not what you think.”
“You have no idea what I think,” he said. I flinched, expecting him to shout at me. He didn’t, though. Instead he just spoke to me like he did on Sunday, when I got back from Indianapolis.
He spoke to me with the disappointment of someone who had been let down by someone he trusted.
In other words, he was experiencing everything I feared I would be.
“You have to get your act together. Last night you got lucky. Looks like nobody caught you misbehaving. As for me? I know you’re going through a tough time, your teammates can’t help but cover for you.”
“Shit,” I said, feeling bad. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not going to be able to get away with this again. There are consequences you’re going to have to pay, Bryant. Get your act together. You’re not my starting quarterback for the rest of the month. Russel’s still rusty, but at least he doesn’t cause trouble. I hope you enjoy yourself, sitting on the sidelines, watching someone you’re better than play instead of you.”
My mouth dropped. In no way could I argue that this wasn’t fair, but I wasn’t happy about it all the same.
Fuck, I hated that I did this to myself. I was the one who sabotaged myself.
23
Mia
It turned out that technically, since I never filed any formal paperwork to transfer into the second dorm room that Bryant helped me find… I was still registered as a resident at the George Washington Building, rooming with Sam.
At least she didn’t seem to mind too much that I was back, lugging an overloaded backpack of my stuff, along with plastic bags for everything else I couldn’t fit into my backpack or my suitcases.
“So, you’re back,” she said. She made it sound like she was surprised to see me, but I had actually texted her informing her that I was coming back to the dorm.
I rolled my eyes at her sarcastic comment.
“Look, I feel sorry for you,” Sam said, sitting up in her dorm bed. My side of the room was bare, looking like I had never even moved in here. That was how good the movers were, they stripped all sign of me being there… and took it to Bryant’s place instead.
“I don’t want your sympathy, Sam,” I said, trying to make it clear to her that I wasn’t interested in more drama.
“Hey, he pulled a fast one on me too. I’ve been there, I know what you’re feeling now,” Sam said. But even as she said this, she had a smile up. It wasn’t even a smirk, it was a straight-up smile of satisfaction.
She looked like she had won something.
“I don’t really want to deal with this right now,” I said, and instead of letting her say something to aggravate me further, I found my earphones in my backpack and popped them into my ears.
Life began to settle down. When Monday came, I wiped my tears away and went to class. I went to every class I had, doubled down on all my work, even braced myself to see Bryant at the History of Media Law class, but it was a lecture this week and I didn’t see him in the whole hall.
Sam kept clear of me. She had Tiffany to hang out with, anyway.
I wished I had a friend. Seeing Regina over the weekend reminded me of how great it was to just have someone you could let loose with. It couldn’t ever be Bryant, not with him so hung-up over his complicated life. And besides, the point of having a best friend was so that they didn’t complicate your relationship further by being romantically or sexually involved.
Living with Bryant had its ups and downs, sure, but it also taught me that I couldn’t just live with a guy and not expect him to want more from me… yet somehow not be able to give it back when he got it.
I loved him, but now it was time to set that aside for the moment. I needed to focus on my classes.
I also needed to find work.
Continuing my job hunt as before, I started to intensify this plan, applying for every job I found on campus, going through bulletin boards in every building, outside every office, just to find prospective offers.
I didn’t really get that much success.
I kept checking my phone every day that week, hoping despite myself that it would be Bryant.
He did text me. On Thursday, he simply told me he was sorry for everything.
I scrolled through all his previous messages, wishing things could be simpler, that we could just go back in time
.
It wasn’t even that long ago that I was teasing him by not hooking up with him on demand, driving him crazy every time he saw me. I missed that.
He made me feel wanted. Bryant was so good at all that.
Eventually I scrolled up and realized that he did send me the phone number and email for his friend Andy, who had the tailgating job.
I immediately tried the phone number, and to my surprise, the job was not just still open… he was happy for me to start immediately.
“There’s a home game for us this weekend,” Andy said. “This is a great trial run for you. Just come by the office, I’ll show you the ropes. You’ll be working with another girl, a senior named Jess.”
I showed up at his office the next morning and immediately felt at ease at the job. It was mostly organizational stuff, making phone calls to make sure we had the space, confirming tents, keeping a good inventory for the merchandise we were the ones selling directly.
Jess was nice to me, as well. Not super friendly, but she seemed like the kind of girl who would need to warm up to me first.
And we would have the best opportunity to do so on Saturday, as we worked hard to make sure the tailgate outside the Renegades stadium was perfect, especially for the first home game since the big Kentucky win the other week.
I was paid upfront for the day because Andy said it was easier that way rather than trying to find me in the crowd later, and I was grateful for the money.
I was dressed all cute, wearing a uniform that looked a little like a cheerleader’s — still professional, just a little suggestive.
Jess was used to it. She told me that she’d been doing this since the last academic year, and she never stopped enjoying the work.
We hung around as group after group passed us, sometimes coming over to say hi and check out the merchandise we had on the tables we stacked next to Andy’s car.
“Hey, did you hear Russel Watson is starting again?” I overheard one guy tell his friend. “That’s two games in a row. I wonder if Bryant Howard is over. Feels bad, man. The guy looked great against Kentucky, then he just disappeared.”
“No, he didn’t disappear, he had shit going on,” his friend replied. I leaned forward to eavesdrop.
“Is that from that YouTube channel? You watch that nonsense?”
“It’s practically the university news station,” the friend answered. “Like CNN for the Renegades. Except Fiona doesn’t seem to target any of the guys on the football team except Howard.”
“Yeah, but that’s because he’s a rich boy. Isn’t he the son of the guy who owns Ward Beer? I mean, come on, how rich would you be if you owned the biggest beer company in the world?”
“Fucking billions, man.”
I turned away from the conversation. “Ugh.”
Jess patted my arm. “I’m sorry, I know about you and Bryant… I watch those videos too.”
It always annoyed me when people knew me from Fiona’s YouTube videos talking trash about me and Bryant, because it made me feel like those people would come in with a preconceived notion of me.
Maybe that was why I thought Jess was a little cold to me at first.
“Don’t believe what you see,” I said, leaving it at that.
Russel was a good player, but I knew from all the other guys that they thought Bryant was so much more talented than him. If Russel was playing, it could only mean that Bryant had gotten in trouble… and was dropped from the team.
I felt sad thinking about that, because it made me wonder if this was all my fault. He didn’t have to miss the previous game, after all. And being in Indianapolis wasn’t a fun time for him — everywhere he went, trouble followed.
This was all me. I knew I was bringing him bad luck. Perhaps now I had to worry about how my bad luck spread. First Eugene, now Bryant.
It was silly for me to blame myself like this, but I knew the truth.
With nothing else to do but watch people get drunk and party outside the stadium, I reached for my phone. I told myself to be strong, that I didn’t need to reach out to Bryant.
He didn’t want that, either. We were doing just fine giving each other space.
After all, almost a week had passed since our big fight. I was sure he had spent a lot of time thinking about his feelings since then.
If he decided he still couldn’t open up to me, then I was right to leave. I wouldn’t close the door on him yet, but I knew it was stupid of me to just keep waiting.
I deserved better than that.
I also deserved better than Samantha being mean to me.
She showed up at my table, peeking down at caps with the Renegades’ logo. “Hi,” she said airily.
“Hello,” Jess greeted her.
“I’m here to say hi to Mia, I mean,” my former best friend quickly added. “Are you going to go inside the stadium and watch the game?”
“Nope, I’m working, Sam,” I told her.
“Well, I heard from Marvin that Bryant’s not playing. Ouch. I’m sorry about that. I know, I know, I shouldn’t be talking about him to you… but I wondered if you knew why,” Sam said.
She was baiting me.
“No clue,” I shrugged.
“Okay, fine. I get it. Hey, you know we’re in the same boat now. You were right all along, Bryant Howard was a real asshole. Absolute grade-A asshole. You called it all those years ago, and I chose to ignore you. But the funny thing is, you chose to ignore yourself also! So I guess what I’m trying to say is I told you so. Or… you told you so.”
I glared at Sam. “Sam, please just fuck off right now, okay?”
She smiled, putting the cap back down before leaving. I could see her join Tiffany and another friend.
“Wow, that girl was such a mean girl,” Jess said. “I wanted to slap her.”
“Well, we don’t resort to physical violence in our relationship… maybe that’s what’s missing,” I snarkily remarked. “Ugh. Sam is just rubbing everything in my face. I’m guessing if you watch those videos, you know who she is too, right?”
“Your guy’s ex,” Jess nodded.
“Except he’s not my guy anymore. I don’t know… it’s complicated. He’s the one who says it is, at least. I think he just wants to put some distance between us.”
“Even after you moved in with him, like, the same night you were recorded with him at the stadium during that other game? I was working that night, I remember that pretty clearly. People were talking long before the video went up,” Jess said. “Anyway, sorry, I shouldn’t be prying into your life.”
“You don’t need to apologize at all,” I smiled.
My smile dropped as I started to worry about Bryant. If Marvin told Sam, that meant there had to be something bigger than Bryant just being dropped because he went with me to Indiana.
It was a relief to know it wasn’t my fault, but I didn’t want his career to suffer. I moved away so I wouldn’t be a distraction, so I could let him thrive… yet there was something bugging him anyway.
I couldn’t bring myself to reach out to him.
I just had to carry on with my work.
Jess just watched me for the rest of the night, as we sat in our foldable chairs, staring out as people got drunk and partied.
24
Bryant
I had come to terms with my mistakes. Coach Frost was doing the right thing, freezing me out from the team until I got my shit together.
It was different now, it wasn’t like last week, where I simply was absent from the team. Now I had lost my starting spot and everyone else tried to tiptoe around this news.
That wasn’t very fair to Russel, who was starting to get overwhelmed by all of it.
I went up to him in the locker room and gave him a hug. “Man, you don’t deserve half the shit people are saying. You’re a great quarterback.”
“Not as good as you,” he said.
No, it wasn’t just modesty that I refused to accept his compliment. I meant what I said.
&
nbsp; The coach stared at me with a hard look, before returning to confer with his assistants.
I wandered around the stadium, trying to psyche myself out of the depression I was starting to feel. Everything had happened exactly as it should have. I fucked up by ditching the team to fly back home. Then I fucked up smoking weed, risking my entire professional career.
If anything, Coach Frost had been exceedingly gentle with me. He wasn’t the gentle kind, so he must have really seen my potential.
And it broke my heart to think that I was not meeting that potential.
If I kept on this path, I would just be another stupid rich boy, born with some talent, wasting it because he had money and a safety net.
In my case, a safety net of over fourteen billion dollars.
Maybe that’s what my dad was hoping for right now. That all this would demoralize me to the point where I would simply give up and go home.
But if that was what he thought, he was wrong. This was my home. I owed the Renegades everything.
Going to Florida University was what I had envisioned my life plan to be, playing at D1 level, earning my way to my dream NFL draft, where I would finally break into the coveted world of pro football.
That was looking a lot more complicated now.
This much was clear, people were looking at me differently. I jogged around the whole stadium, tracing the path of the athletic track around the football field. The game wasn’t going to start for some time now.
But people were staring.
I could tell from the way they all looked at their phones that this wasn’t just them wondering about why I was missing from the lineup.
They were speculating.
There had to be a new rumor.
If I was feeling less strong, I’d want a strong drink right now. But Coach Frost’s advice really stuck with me, so I knew I had to just endure all this hardship.
As soon as I returned to the locker room, I went for my phone, scrolling through social media to find out what people were talking about me.
Marvin took the phone from my hands. “No, man. You don’t want to find out.”
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