by B. B. Hamel
“I don’t,” I said. “I just need a number.”
“And why the fuck would I give it to you?”
“Maybe because your son is asking for something and you don’t want to be a piece of shit.”
“I don’t know, Gibson. I’m used to being a piece of shit.”
“I just need Johnny Long’s number.”
He paused. “What do you need with Johnny?”
“That’s between him and me. You still got it?”
“I still got it. He’s an old friend, you know.”
“Bookies aren’t friends with their clients, Roy. Can you give it to me?”
“All right then.” He read me the number, which I quickly memorized. “How about you come and see your mom sometime?”
“Is she sober?”
“The fuck does that matter? She’s your fucking mother.”
“Bye, Roy,” I said, and hung up the phone.
I felt gross after calling him, but I had needed that number and he was the only one who knew it. Johnny Long was a bookie for the Italian mafia, and I was hoping he could help me.
I dialed the number and sat down on a bench. It rang and rang, but nobody picked up. Finally, a machine answered and beeped.
“Johnny, this is Gibson Evans. My dad gave me your number. I need some help. Call me back if you can.” I rattled off my number and then hung up the phone.
This was such a bad idea. I hated that my father knew that I wanted Johnny’s number, and who knew what he was thinking about that. Maybe he had already sold the story to some bullshit gossip blog. Wouldn’t be the first time that drunk fuck sold some crappy story about me to some second-rate blogger.
But that was the risk I ran by doing all of this. If I could think of any other way to make money and make it fast, I’d do it, but I couldn’t. It was a risk getting involved with the mafia, but I couldn’t let myself become just another deadbeat dad.
After a minute or two, I dialed Avery’s number. It rang twice before she answered.
“Hello?”
“How was dinner last night?” I asked her.
“Better after you left,” she said.
I smiled. “Good. I paid dearly for skipping tutoring.”
“Sorry to hear it. I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“It’s okay. I think it was worth it.”
“Really? Seems like it wasn’t worth it at all.”
“Listen, since we got interrupted last night, how about you come out with me tonight?”
There was a pause. “I don’t know.”
“There’s a football party just off campus on Maple Street.”
“That’s right around the corner from me.”
“Perfect. So you don’t have an excuse.”
“I’m bringing a friend,” she said.
I laughed. “Okay, sure. Party gets going at ten. I’ll text you the address.”
“Fine. Remember, I can’t drink.”
“I won’t forget again.”
“Good. Just making sure you’re not going to try to feed me shots.”
“I’d never dream of it. Plus, I don’t think I need to get you drunk if I want to taste that little pussy again.”
“Bye, Gibson.”
I smirked as she hung up the phone.
Campus was beautiful, green, and comfortable as I stretched my legs out. There weren’t many people around since it was Saturday and most people didn’t have any reason to be wandering around campus. It felt good to sit there, nobody bothering me, nobody staring at me.
I had to admit, MD had a really gorgeous campus. The area around MD wasn’t great, since its economy had gone downhill years earlier when local factories started shutting down. They called it the Rust Belt, probably because there were just a bunch of rusting factories dotting the landscape. But campus itself was a gorgeous little oasis, and I was thankful every day that I got to experience it.
My hometown was nothing like MD. My hometown was worse than the area around MD, actually. I came from a poor neighborhood where the idea of working a normal job all day long seemed absurd. People were more interested in making moonshine than money.
But I’d gotten out of that. I’d worked my ass off and gotten away. I left that all behind when I stepped off the bus three years ago. Or so I had thought up until I spoke with my father again.
My phone rang again. It was a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Gibson Evans,” the man said. “Do you know who this is?”
I had a guess. “Johnny.”
“How are you, kid?”
“I’m okay. You?”
“Good. I see your old man all the time still. We all root for you down here, you know.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“But listen, what can I do for you? It’s a little unusual for me, you know, getting a call from you.”
“I know that. I actually need some help.”
There was a pause. “What kind of help?”
“I need a loan.”
“I’m a bookie, kid. I don’t do loans.”
“I know that. But you work for an organization, right?”
“I do.”
“And they do loans.”
“Yeah. Some of them do.”
“I was hoping you could point me in the direction of someone who does loans. Someone local. Maybe someone in Chicago.”
“We have people there.” He paused again. “Look, kid, I don’t know if I should be doing this. You’d be better off going to a bank, you know? I shouldn’t say that, but it’s the truth.”
“If I could go to a bank, I would, but I need money fast and I don’t have any other options. I’m pretty limited.”
“Okay, kid,” he said. “I’ll look around and get back to you. Sit tight.”
“Thanks, Johnny.”
“Don’t thank me, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He hung up the phone.
I sighed and slipped my cell back into my pocket. That was what I had wanted, and he’d promised to help, but it didn’t feel good. In fact, it felt pretty fucked up. Even the mobster was trying to warn me away from getting involved with the fucking mob.
But what other choice did I have? I needed money to help Avery, and I needed it fast. I could pay them back when I got into the NFL. It wouldn’t be too long.
They’d give me the money. They had to. As far as I could tell, everyone was dying to get something from me.
The mob was going to love the chance to get me in their debt.
I stood up, my legs sore from the morning session. Campus didn’t look so serene or beautiful anymore. I started walking back to my apartment.
8
Avery
I stood outside the house, the booming bass music spilling out from the half-open windows, and felt nervous.
The last house party I was at, I ended up having sex with Gibson in his truck and getting pregnant. All I needed to do was not get pregnant again, and it would be a much more successful night all right. But I was still nervous for some stupid reason.
“We don’t have to go in,” Harper said.
“I know,” I said. “I want to, though.”
“Sure you do. I’m just saying, we can turn around and leave.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Come on. Let’s go.”
She smiled at me as we headed up the front steps. I knocked on the door and some drunk kid in a polo shirt answered. He just cheered as we walked into the mayhem that was the party.
It was only ten thirty and the place was already raging. There had to be at least fifty people crammed into that space. Up ahead in the kitchen was a keg manned by a large guy in a football jersey. People were milling about in small groups, and people were even coming up and down the steps. The house itself looked too nice to be owned by a college student, so I guessed it was another alumni thing.
“Do you see him?” I asked Harper.
She shook her head. “Come on. L
et’s check out back.”
I followed her through the crowd. I didn’t recognize a single person there, but all the girls looked familiar. They were basically all thin, blond, and dressed like they were going to some upscale nightclub. I felt out of place, but I’d come too far to turn back.
Harper pushed through the back door. Outside, the night was cool. Smokers stood in small groups, and in the very center of the backyard, a shirtless guy whooped and shouted as another shirtless guy drank the beer bong he held up proudly.
I looked at Harper. “Unless that’s him taking a beer bong, I don’t think he’s out here.”
She laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe he gained some weight.”
I shook my head, smiling. We quickly headed back inside before the beer bonging idiots decided to come after us.
As we walked back inside, I spotted him. Just off the kitchen was a smaller room. Gibson was sitting on a couch, surrounded by people. I stood in the doorway, Harper just behind me, and he sat up when he spotted me.
“Avery,” he called out, standing. “There you are.”
He walked away from the group, and a few of the girls shot me dirty looks.
“Hey, Gibson,” I said. “Cool party.”
“Yeah, real cool.” He smirked at me. “Better now that you’re here.” He looked at Harper. “And you’re the friend, right?”
“Harper,” she said.
“We met before, at the party.”
“Right. The party where you got Avery pregnant.”
There was a short silence before he burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe she had said that. I wanted to kill her, but Gibson seemed to find it funny.
“Yeah, that party,” he said, grinning. “Do you guys want anything?”
“No, thanks,” I said.
“I’ll have a beer,” Harper said.
“Sure.” Gibson went into the kitchen and I glared at Harper.
“Are you kidding me?”
“What? I couldn’t help myself.”
I wanted to say something else, but Gibson returned a second later with a drink for Harper.
“I’m glad you came,” he said to me. “I thought you’d ditch me.”
“Harper made me come,” I said.
“Well then, thanks, Harper.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, sipping her drink. “Oh shit. Is that flip cup?” In the other room, a group of people was gathering around a table. “I’m the fucking bomb at flip cup. You guys mind?”
“Go ahead,” I said, laughing.
She grinned and then went to join the group, hopping in on one team.
“She’s nice,” Gibson said to me.
“She’s easy to get along with.”
“Seems to be. Look at her blending into that crowd.”
“Harper is like that. Never had trouble making friends.”
“What about you?” he asked, standing close to me. “Do you have trouble making friends?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted.
“Me too.”
“Oh come on, I doubt that. You’re the most popular guy on this campus.”
“Not exactly,” he said. “I have a thousand acquaintances but not many friends.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
“I don’t mean to complain, though. It’s just that being this successful comes with a whole new set of problems.”
“Mo’ money, mo’ problems. Right, Gibson?” I said, joking.
He laughed. “Exactly.”
“I get it, though. At the end of the day, you’re just a guy.”
“Right. Just another guy who happens to be able to play football really well.”
I bit my lip, looking at him. I wanted to say that he was a tall, muscular, handsome as hell guy, the sort of guy that stood out in a crowd no matter what he did, but I kept that part to myself.
“Actually, I was thinking about you last night,” he said.
“Oh yeah? Clean things, I hope.”
“Definitely not clean things. First I was having a nice stroll down memory lane to the night in my truck.”
“Oh, the night you got me pregnant?”
He smirked. “That’s the one.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“But I was thinking about something else, too.”
“What’s that?”
“You should study me.”
I cocked my head to one side. “What’s that now?”
“Study me. You said you wished you could study an athlete for your biology class. Why don’t you study me?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Are you kidding? That’s crazy.”
“I’m an athlete playing at the top of my game right now. You should totally study me.”
I shook my head, smiling at his crazy idea. I couldn’t imagine running a study with Gibson involved. We’d have to work so closely together, and I’d have to touch his body, watch him work and sweat. I’d have to observe every motion and twist of his strong, ripped physique, and I’d have to somehow remain impartial.
There was just no way. We were already tangled up together too deeply, whether we wanted to be or not. Throwing this study on top of it couldn’t be a smart idea.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
He laughed. “When are you going to have another opportunity like this one?”
I sighed. He had a pretty good point. It wasn’t every day that one of the top athletes in the country was willing to let some random undergraduate girl study him, at least in a professional manner.
“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what we’d look for.”
“Work it out and let me know. I’m at your disposal, Avery. You can do with me whatever you want.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “See, it’s that sort of comment that makes me not want to do it.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll keep that to a minimum. I just can’t help it around you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You don’t? Avery, whenever I’m around you, all I can think about is sinking my cock deep between your legs. I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so badly that I can barely walk straight.”
I couldn’t believe he was saying this. I was suddenly very aware of how close he was to me and of all the other people in the house. They had dropped back to background noise, but suddenly they were all there, staring at us. Gibson’s eyes tore into me, intense and steady.
I took a step away from him. “I, uh, need to use the bathroom.”
“Sure,” he said. “Upstairs and to the right.”
“Okay. Be right back.”
I walked off, glad to get some space from him. I didn’t know if I could trust myself there in that room, and I could feel people staring at us. Frankly, that attention made me super uncomfortable. Not the attention from Gibson; that I didn’t mind.
No, it was everyone else. Everyone knew Gibson, and just being around him made people stare at me. I could practically feel their judgmental comments behind my back already.
Maybe I was just being paranoid. I was so out of my depth here and just trying to figure this thing out. Maybe I was reading too deeply into everything. I made my way through the party, past the wasted kids and the flirting girls, until I reached the stairs. I slowly climbed up and then made a right.
Ahead, there was a small line. “Is this for the bathroom?” I asked the girl standing at the end.
She sighed. “Unfortunately.”
I smiled my thanks and got behind her. There were maybe five or six people ahead of me, but that was fine. I didn’t really need to go; I just needed an excuse to take a second to myself.
Gibson said he wanted me to run a study on him. And honestly, that was an incredible opportunity. Just having him lend his name to the study would give it some importance and credibility.
But I didn’t want to use him for his name. I could already see that people did that sort of thing all the time to him, and it clearly was something he w
as worried about. I didn’t want to make Gibson think I was only interested in him for his fame.
Because I wasn’t. I couldn’t care less whether he played football or not. The only thing I cared about was the baby growing inside me, the baby he helped make. We had to deal with that together.
I didn’t ask for any of this and neither did he, but we were in it together. He was clearly trying, and maybe I needed to get over my own fears and give it a shot, too.
As the people went in and out of the bathroom and the line got shorter, I made my decision. Gibson was a good guy, although he was intense and gorgeous. He was trying to do the right thing, trying to get to know me, even if he was going about it in his own way. I had to give that a shot, too.
Just as it was almost my turn in line, a girl came up behind me. I recognized her from downstairs. She had been sitting next to Gibson when we had arrived. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail with a bow tied around it. She wore light blue eye shadow and her lips were a deep red.
“Hey,” she said to me.
“Hey,” I said back.
“You know Gibson?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“I saw you guys talking. You looked like you knew each other.”
“I guess we do.” I didn’t know what she wanted, but her tone of voice put me off instantly.
“My name is Cathy,” she said. “I’ve known Gibson, like, forever.”
“Okay, Cathy. I’m Avery. Nice to meet you.”
“Sure.” She frowned at me. The girl in the bathroom came out, and it was my turn. “Avery, just be careful, okay? Like, Gibson doesn’t need drama in his life right now.”
I gaped at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “It’s your turn.”
I looked at her for a second longer and then went into the bathroom.
I couldn’t believe that girl. She didn’t know me at all, but she was talking about drama to me like I was somehow coming after Gibson. Did he tell her about the baby?
I stared in the mirror as horror hit me in the gut. Maybe he was telling people about this baby. I hadn’t told him not to, at least not explicitly. I assumed we both wanted it kept secret, but maybe I was wrong.