by H. J. Bellus
I gesture ahead of him. “The line is moving and your friends are ditching you.”
“Want to join us?”
Carefully monitoring what comes out of my mouth, I speak very slowly. “No, it’s okay. I just came to grab lunch and then head back to meet my roommate.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Blue.”
“Same at ya, Lane.”
Mr. Sex on a Stick finally turns around to catch up to his teammates. Thank you, Jesus, my ovaries were about two seconds from imploding.
I hang back for a little bit, allowing two new parties to cut in line as a tactic of putting space between me and the testosterone tribe. After their lingering scents have faded, I’m able to focus on the menu hanging above the counter. It’s a large black chalkboard with your typical burgers, chicken strips, and salads scrawled all over it.
As I study the menu, I fan my face with my cellphone. Yeah, not the best tool for the job, but the tiny flow of air hitting my face begins to lightly cool me. The over-crowded diner is humid and hotter than Hades. And just my luck, the line stalls out a bit with the two new parties in front of me.
Booths and tables pepper the joint, along with an eclectic collection of artwork and black and white photography. There’s a catchy vibe floating in the small area, and I try to take in as much artwork as possible to distract myself from the sweat beads forming on my forehead.
A lone customer catches my attention, and he only does that because he’s dressed in a long sleeve black t-shirt with a backward ball cap placed on his head. Craning lower, I also notice he’s wearing workout pants and not shorts. I wonder if it’s the Bionic Man. How in the hell is he not having a heat stroke dressed like that in one hundred degree weather?
“The Tuck Jones,” Lane calls loudly as he strides to the corner booth. I watch as he slides into the booth with the clothed man. They do the bro shake and hug and whatever else men do. It’s clear Lane is deep in conversation with the man. Several moments later he nods in my direction and points. The man pulls his attention from his food up to me, and I’m busted. Yes, busted beyond a shadow of any doubt. I try to casually look away as if nothing just happened, but I’m fucked.
“Ma’am.” A voice draws my attention from the embarrassing situation.
Looking forward, the two parties are gone and there’s a gap the size of freakin’ Texas between me and the counter. Yep, fucking busted.
I try to order my food, but the look on the man’s face haunts me. His face is so chiseled, and even at a distance his masculine beauty is overpowering. There is something about his deep, dark brown eyes that flips my tummy. Unlike the other men who nearly caused me to piss my panties over their good looks, he is different, and different in a way my brain can’t comprehend.
The lady behind the counter clears her throat, showcasing her irritation with me. I hurry up and order that burger I’ve been craving, along with a large order of fries, and, of course, a soda. I mean, why stop short when you’re going to splurge? I’ll be running later tonight when it’s dark, that’s for sure.
Plucking the red tray of greasy food from the counter, I find a booth, and not just any one, but the one furthest away from the group of men. As I pull out the chair, I hear someone holler my name, and I’m not shocked to see Lane standing up and holding a chair out for me.
“Join us.” He puts his arm over his chest as if I were breaking his heart.
I shake my head, knowing it wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Don’t make me cause a scene, Blue.”
I keep shaking my head, and then finally sit down in the lone seat at my table.
“Don’t go breaking my heart,” he belts out, and I think he’s trying to sing, but I’m not quite sure. He throws my name in about every other word, and before I know it, the whole diner is staring at me.
“Asshole,” I say to myself as I pick up my food and head his way. “Happy?”
I plop down in the open chair, dying from embarrassment, and completely out of lust with Lane. His ‘come fuck me’ eyes no longer have any power over me after his obnoxious show.
“Blue, meet my boys, and boys, meet Blue.” He pauses for a moment. “I didn’t catch your last name.”
“Probably because I didn’t offer my last name.” I plop a ketchup soaked fry in mouth.
“Feisty one.” He takes a bite of his burger and talks around it. “I guess you didn’t like my singing.”
“You call that singing?” His teammates bust out in laughter. I look up to see all of them watching us, even the man who is overdressed. “And my last name is Williams.”
“Blue here is a freshman cheerleader.”
“That would be me, and this would be the most awkward moment of my life.” I grab my burger and go in for the kill, taking a large bite just like Lane did.
“Consider this your welcome to college life,” Ethan advises. “My girl is a junior cheerleader. Her name is Stephie, and she never eats like that.”
Several men choke back their laughter, but it’s the one in long sleeves who holds my attention. He shakes his head and backhands Ethan.
“Well, I guess she doesn’t know how to live life then.”
Immediately I pray to the cheer gods that Stephie isn’t that one hardcore mean girl on the squad, but with my luck, I’m probably screwed.
Ethan and Lane assault me with numerous questions, and I do my best to answer them through bites of my burger. And mother-lovin’, humpin’ hell, I now know why the line was so long. As I stuff my face, I watch the man in long sleeves, studying his movements and his face. I’m careful to not make eye contact with him. I can tell just from his body language that he’s a closed book and doesn’t want unnecessary attention drawn to him. Unlike Ethan or Lane, who’d probably strip for women ogling them.
Throwing my napkin into the now empty red basket, I glance over one more time at the mysterious man. This time I realize what it is about him that sets him apart from the other men. His face is chiseled and well defined, everything runs from his strong jawline, and his brown eyes are perfectly framed with his eyebrows. The man could walk a runaway fully clothed and still be the most gorgeous person. I can tell he’s built and very athletic, just like the rest of the men at the table.
“So are you all football players?” I dig for the information on my own and almost feel guilty.
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the quieter men in the booth pipes up.
“Names? I mean, I can’t leave just knowing Ethan and Lane.”
Ethan takes the lead and begins pointing out the men. “Gus T., redshirt freshman. Dustin, sophomore defensive end. Lane, resident pussy. Tuck, the best running back in college football, and he’s a junior. Jared, sophomore offense.”
I know Ethan continues, but after learning the name of the man who’s held my attention even over that glorious burger, I get distracted. His name is Tuck, and he’s a running back, and obviously his teammates speak highly of him. And he’s the oldest at the table, and by far the most alluring. This time I outright stare at him, not worried if he catches me or if the others notice my actions. Ethan finally shuts his trap.
“Nice to meet all of you,” I say, not breaking my stare.
Tuck finally looks up at me, but only for a second as he offers me a shy little smirk. Just the brief eye contact and the slight grin has my stomach doing double time.
“Well, I’m off, boys.”
I stand quickly, mentally berating myself for letting a football team turn me into a schoolgirl with a massive crush. Steadying my sea legs and getting one last look at Mr. GQ, I turn to walk toward the door. Welcome to college life, Blue. Good hell, I’ve been out of my dorm once, and heated up over several men and eaten with a group of football players. Whore, much?
My sandal catches on the leg of a booth. My upper body flies forward, while my shoulder purse nearly knocks me out as it sails over my head. The floor comes closer and closer to my face, and all I can think about is the group of men watching me. My knee grazes
the tile floor—or actually thumps into the tile floor—and that’s when my senses kick in. Using all my strength on my right side, I pull myself back up into a standing position before making out with the dirty tile floor.
My heart thuds so loudly, I can barely hear a thing over it, and when I turn to see if anyone happened to catch my little stumble, I see the whole table of football players staring with their mouths hung wide open. Even the booths near me are all staring.
“Don’t worry, I’m a cheerleader,” I say as I sprint from the restaurant, but before I make it to the door I see Tuck smiling once again.
He was stone cold and showed no emotion except for those slight and very shy smiles. Tuck Jones, who the hell are you, and what have you done to my ovaries?
Chapter 2
I pull up my favorite yoga videos on YouTube and do a few sessions while waiting on Sophie. Her hour turns into more like three, but then the door finally opens, and in steps my roomie.
She’s my exact opposite. Similar builds, but that’s it. Sophie’s pale in complexion, with jet-black hair that trails down her back and bounces in curly waves.
“Hi,” I squeak out, sitting up in my bed and flipping off a dumb eye mask. Being bored beyond belief, I busted into a home spa kit and ended up with a lumpy cream and an eye mask. Thankfully, I’d washed off all the green goo and just laid bored out of my mind in my bed.
“Oh my god, I’m Sophie, and you must be Blue.” She bounds toward me, throwing the heap of items in her arms onto her bed. She knocks back onto my bed and lands right on me. “I’ve been dying to meet you. We got lost on the way here. Long story, I’ll fill you in later.”
I held no doubt she’d fill me in on everything.
“Can I help you?”
I tried sitting up and pushing her off to the side. I’m definitely the bubble type of person, as in stay the fuck out of my bubble until I feel comfortable enough hugging you on my own. And it’s clear within thirty seconds of meeting Sophie, she has no concept of a bubble.
“Holy shit, cheer orgy.”
Looking up, I see Lane standing in our doorway holding large boxes.
“Er mah god, thank you.” Sophie pops up and makes her way to Lane.
Along with no bubble, the girl clearly has no shame either. Lane nods in my direction, and then a huge smile covers his face when he recognizes me.
“Blue.”
“Lane.”
“You’ve got some green shit around your eyes,” he says as he walks in and gently sets down the boxes.
Springing from my bed, I go to the mirror behind the door, and holy fuck if I don’t have two perfectly shaped circles framing my eyes. I’ll be kicking the dog for this one when I get home. Damn spa kit. Damn Mom. And Damn Lane for pointing it out.
I snag a wet makeup remover cloth from my vanity and begin to scrub. My only saving grace is that it wipes away easily, only leaving behind a light red mark circling my eyes. Raccoon, it is.
When I turn around I’m surprised to see three more men join Lane in the room, and I find myself quickly scanning the small crowd for Tuck. I recognize one of the men from the diner, but that’s it; the others are all new faces. I don’t remember the name of the familiar man and feel sort of assholish for it. I’m thankful the crowd goes to setting down boxes and unpacking stuff for Sophie. I’m amazed to watch the men sort all of her shit out as she tells them where to place things and exactly how to unfold the bedding.
It only takes seconds before I know I landed the perfect roommate. She likes to talk and be loud, has men following at her heels, and will be the perfect person to hide behind and blend in.
“I’m starving.” Sophie plops down on her bed and covers her stomach. Lane quickly joins her, and the other men exit the room.
“I have some food over in that little fridge. Help yourself.” Feeling a bit uncomfortable, I take a seat at my hot pink office chair near my desk.
Sophie waves off my suggestion. “It’s probably all healthy shit. Right?” She doesn’t give me a chance to answer her question, she just continues talking.
“How do you two know each other, anyway?” she asks.
“Oh, Blue dined with me and the boys earlier.”
“You little hussy.” Sophie zings a pale purple zebra striped pillow toward me. I’m able to bat it away easily. “You told me you were walking downtown to get a bite.”
“I did.”
“Whatever,” Lane pipes up. “She practically begged to sit with us and even offered us a twenty dollar bill.”
Rolling my eyes, I nearly pop both eyeballs out of the socket.
“Well, let’s go eat. I want to see something other than the damn dorms.” Sophie stands, straightening out her tiny white shorts and shamelessly readjusting her boobies. Lane is standing right behind her like a lost little puppy.
The writing is clearly etched on the wall with these two. The only question left is whether they will be bedmates or have something a little deeper.
“I think I’ll just stay behind. I’m actually going to go for a run after the late lunch I mowed down.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Lane wraps his arm around Sophie’s waist, and she doesn’t even flinch. “Let’s go eat. I’m hungry too. Careful, Blue, it’s almost dark.”
“I’m going to use the running trail around the campus. My dad did some research and it seems to be pretty safe.” I shrug while picking at the hem of my shorts.
“Yeah, it’s well lit and the best place. The gym will be open for athletes tomorrow.”
“I hate the treadmill. Actually, I despise the fucker.”
Sophie giggles loudly. “I already love you, Blue Williams. I hate that fucker, too.” She takes two large steps and wraps her arms around my shoulders, giving me one more hug. This one lasts a bit longer, and I realize Sophie Watson has burst my bubble and any hopes of having one.
The couple wastes no time getting out the door, and if I were a betting woman, I’d bet Sophie comes back with messy hair. Plucking the damn spa kit from the bed, I toss it in the trash and nail it from feet away. I played basketball all through high school and loved every single second of it. It’s weird to think I’ve never cheered at a boys’ basketball game because of scheduling, but thankfully my school allowed cheerleaders to participate in sports as well.
Looking out my dorm window, I notice the dusk settling in over the campus and decide to hustle my ass. We sure did luck out on the view. It’s a gorgeous view of the cityscape, and with the setting sun, damn near picturesque. I wiggle into some tight spandex running pants and toss on a light hoodie.
Walking back out into the commons, it’s even more crowded and rowdy. It seems all the athletes are excited to meet each other.
A different guard sits behind the desk watching a television show and doesn’t even notice me as I exit the building. The running trail parallels our building and is only fifteen feet from the side of the dorm. There are several different routes you can take, lengthening or shortening your workout with different stations throughout to work your muscles.
I decide on the longest route and begin my five-mile jog. Visualizing the map in my head, I decide about a half mile down the trail that this might not have been the best idea. Darkness envelops the night air with just enough groups of stars and a sliver of the moon lighting the way.
I find my pace, and it feels good to let my longs legs go. Signs point the directions at each crossroad, signaling which loop to take. I’m thankful and find myself melting away into my thoughts with no worries. Pushing myself to the point of breaking has become my drug of choice over the years.
I never count sets in the gym when doing weightlifting; no, I always go to failure. It’s an exhilarating feeling to push my body to its limits when my brain is screaming to quit. I’ve never been one to listen to that tiny voice saying, “Stop.” I set my mind and do it.
Mile three, and my lungs are beginning to sting a bit, but I push it away from
my thoughts and dream of meeting my new teammates and coach. I met Coach Lindsey at try-outs, and she was amazing and super inspiring. It was her charisma and aura that drew me to choose Preston.
The breeze sends chills through me when it meets the sweat droplets running down my skin. I reach back and pull my hoodie up and over my Beats and focus on Lil Jon’s song blaring in my eardrums. I’m able to block everything out for the next mile as I pick up my pace, forcing my body to keep up.
A dark figure comes into my peripheral, and I jump to the side. My legs tangle together as I jolt off of the trail. My upper body lands in a grassy area as my legs crash into the pebbled running track, and I feel each stone tear into my flesh.
I grab my head to protect it from anything that might be coming next. The dark shadow hovers over me. I’m too out of breath to look up and still in a daze from whatever the fuck happened. Seconds go by before I realize I just ate shit. When I look up, I see Tuck standing above me, clothed in a black hoodie and loose gym shorts that fall right below his kneecaps, exposing very impressive calf muscles.
“Are you okay?” He squats down to face me. “Blue, are you okay?”
He finds my Beats and takes them off my ears. I’m still too startled to respond, and find my breath continuing to race out of control.
“Blue.” He drags the back of his knuckles down my cheek, which only fucks up my breathing more, and the panic sets in.
“I, uh, I’m fine.” I bring my legs up to my chest and see my torn running pants and the blood pooling around the ragged material.
“I was just passing you. I had no idea it was you,” he offers.
“I’m an idiot and spooked.” I try to bury my face in my knees and avoid the blood and cuts.
“Is this your first time on the trail?”
“Yes.” My voice is muffled.
“Probably not the brightest idea to be out after dark.”
“I know. I just needed to run.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “I might miss home already.”
I have no idea where my words came from, but they’re true. My heart already misses my parents, home, and my bed.