by Natalie Rios
We lost that day. Our first loss of the season, effectively ending any chance we have of a title run. Coach wouldn’t even look at me after my piss-poor performance. But the offensive coordinator had no qualms about grabbing me by the face mask and screaming in my face.
“Get your head out of your ass, Montgomery! You think the NFL’s going to pay you millions so you can stand around and look pretty? They want Tom Brady, not his wife! Quit playing like this is some unranked, piece of shit team. You have a scholarship here, earn your fucking keep!”
Just imagine forty-five minutes of that in the locker room. Good times.
Practice this week hasn’t been much better. My timing is off and Coach keeps threatening to bench me this upcoming game. The funny thing is, I can’t seem to care. Football has always been my priority, my one goal being to make it to the NFL.
Until now.
The ugly scene keeps playing on loop through my head. I shouldn’t have let Allie walk away. I should have chased after her, made things right between us.
I should have told her I love her.
A hand waves in front of my face. “Yo, T.” My eyes focus on Mo, who is shaking his head at me from across the cafeteria table. “I hate seeing you like this, man. You can’t let her distract you. You’re tanking your own draft prospects.”
I jerk a shoulder, not really caring.
“Alright, let’s do this.” Levi rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles. “For the sake of our friend’s future, not to mention the future of the team, we’re going to help you solve your woman troubles.”
I snort. “You are going to solve this? The guy who’s never had a girlfriend and once got slapped by a girl for calling her the wrong name?”
Levi shrugs. “It was her twin sister’s name.”
A part of me wants to point out he should know which one he slept with, but that’s a lost cause. “Okay, Romeo. Let’s hear it.”
“Show up at her door with a box of chocolates and apologize. Girls love that shit.”
I should have known his idea would be stupid. “First of all, Allie doesn’t eat chocolate-”
Levi snorts, an incredulous look spreading across his face. “Never met a woman in my life who doesn’t eat chocolate. What about flowers? Or the Kobe special?”
“Second,” I continue as if he hadn’t interrupted me, “I didn’t do anything wrong. That girl snuck into our room.”
Levi shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Say you’re sorry anyway. Whenever my mom’s boyfriends fuck up, all it takes is those two magic words and all is forgiven. Flowers and an apology. It’s like kryptonite for women.”
“I already explained everything to her. Not sure how flowers would change anything.”
“She didn’t believe your explanation?” Mo asks.
My shoulders slump. “No.” And that fucking stings more than anything else. I could understand her not believing me three months ago, but not now. Not after everything that’s happened between us.
Mo spears a piece of chicken with his fork and points it at me. “What you need is a grand romantic gesture.”
“A what now?” Levi asks.
“Like in When Harry Met Sally, when Harry runs to the New Year’s Eve party so he can kiss Sally at midnight. Or,” Mo continues over our stunned silence, “in The Notebook, when Noah builds Allie her dream house.”
A snicker pops out of Levi’s mouth. “Should we ask how you know the plots to those movies?”
“Three older sisters,” Mo answers defensively.
“Riiiiight. Your sisters made the big, bad left guard do it.”
Mo’s cheeks flush. “Whatever. At least my suggestions weren’t lame. Flowers die. Chocolate you eat and forget. But building a girl a fucking house? Kissing in the rain? That makes a statement, man.”
Levi shakes his head. “Sure, if the statement is I’m financially stupid and enjoy risking catching pneumonia. A piece of ass ain’t worth all that shit.”
I push back on my chair and stand, reaching for my empty cup instead of planting my fist in his face. Though the urge is there, believe me. “Don’t call her that again,” I manage to grind out through clenched teeth.
Levi holds up his hands. “No harm meant. Just saying, if it were me, I’d be on to the next one. You have plenty of options.”
No, I don’t. This is it. Allie is it. But there’s no use explaining that to a guy like Levi. He has a warped view on relationships thanks to his mommy and daddy issues. Best to just walk away. “I’m going to grab some more water. You guys want anything?”
They shake their heads and I make my way to the fountain machine. Filling my cup, I check my phone. I’ve been doing that a lot lately, obsessively checking my phone. Waiting to find a text from her saying she’s ready to talk.
God, I’m pathetic.
“Well, you look miserable.” Looking over, I find Camilla and Schmidt scowling at me.
I don’t even bother saying hello, my eyes already scanning the cafeteria. “How’s Allie? Is she with you?”
Nostrils flaring, Camilla crosses her arms. “No. I am not answering your questions. Liars don’t deserve answers. I only came over here to tell you you’re a fucking idiot.”
Cupping the back of my neck, I rub out the knot of tension forming. “I didn’t lie. None of that was what it looked like.”
“I’ll tell you what it looked like,” Camilla sneers. “You partying with a trashy groupie, getting a lap dance. And then a week later, the same groupie is in your room naked, waiting to fuck you.”
“That’s not what happened-” I start, then pause to take a deep breath. “Look, not that I owe either one of you an explanation, but I have no idea how that girl made it into my room. She did climb into my lap while I was passed out at a party, but I shoved her off. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I’m starting to feel like a broken record player with the number of times I’ve repeated myself. Is there anyone on this damn planet who believes me?
Camilla snorts. “And we’re supposed to believe that? Is Allie supposed to believe that?”
“I don’t care what any of you believe, it’s the fucking truth!”
“I believe him, actually.”
My head snaps up at Schmidt, an astonished “What?” escaping my mouth just seconds before Camilla roars a “WHAT?!” of her own.
“Surprising, isn’t it? Me taking your side,” Schmidt continues on a wry grin while I gawk at him. “But I was on the team once. I remember what the parties and the girls were like. Hell, I’ve had a naked girl waiting in my hotel room before. The groupies can be relentless.”
My back straightens and it’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Finally, someone who gets it. “Exactly! I have no control over what the groupies do.”
Schmidt arches a brow. “But I also think Camilla has a point. Maybe you weren’t cheating, but that’s what it looks like. You’re lucky it was just a few pictures on Instagram. What if that girl had confronted Allie on campus? Showed her the pictures and told her an embellished version of what happened?”
“I would expect Allie not to jump to conclusions.”
Schmidt snorts while Camilla rolls her eyes.
“You have to admit, the evidence is pretty damning and your history is…problematic. Why should she trust you?” Schmidt asks.
“Because she knows me!” Taking a deep breath, I try for calm. “What are you even doing here? Didn’t you graduate months ago?”
“Having dinner with my girlfriend, sister, and their friends. All of who are still students here,” he quips and I want to punch that smug face of his. “Look, I get that you want her to trust you, but you two are apart a lot. And you’re going to be apart even more once you go pro. She doesn’t know what you’re doing when you’re on the road or how many girls are sending you naked selfies and shit. Of course she’s going to have some trust issues dating Theo the Player.”
You have got to be kidding me. “So because I was once a player, I'll always
be a player? I’ve changed. I'm not that guy anymore.”
"Newsflash, it wasn't all that long ago you were that guy,” Camilla points out. “You say you've changed, but how is she supposed to know that? There are pictures of you with another girl. Pictures everyone on campus has seen. Allie can't go anywhere without people whispering behind her back."
I comb a hand through my hair. "Jesus Christ, do these people have nothing better to do?"
Camilla rolls her eyes. "You're a big name on campus. The rumor mill's been churning all week and the general consensus is you cheated on Allie because she's not pretty."
What the fuck? "Who is saying that?" I growl, fists clenching at my side. "Point me to them and I will set them straight."
Camilla holds out her phone. “It’s all over Twitter and Instagram. Do a search for your name. Or her name. You two are tagged in almost every post.”
Taking her phone, I pull up Instagram. I normally stay away from social media so I’m not sure what to expect, maybe more pictures posted by Naked Girl. But the first post that pops up is a picture of Allie walking out of a classroom with her head down, facial expression carefully blank behind the large black frames of her glasses. Wearing leggings and a black coat, she’s clutching a chemistry textbook against her chest. She looks as gorgeous as ever, if not a bit subdued. But then again, everything about her is beautiful to me. I don’t get what the big deal is.
Until I scan the comments. Those have my teeth grinding and my blood boiling. I’ve never seen so many hate-filled comments, pointing out each and every one of Allie’s alleged flaws. Making fun of the way she dresses, her glasses, her body shape, her height, her major…everything.
Not every comment is about Allie though. Some are outright lies, girls claiming I had sex with them on the road. Insinuating I had been cheating on Allie all along.
The most common comment? Theo can do so much better.
Nostrils flaring, I hand the phone back over to Camilla. This is why I don’t follow social media. People aren’t interested in the truth, they’re interested in the tale being spun.
A horrible thought crosses my mind. “Allie doesn’t believe any of this, right? She knows these jealous girls are just making shit up?”
My jaw clenches when Camilla shrugs.
A pang of guilt shoots through me, causing every muscle inside of me to tighten up. I don’t want Allie to doubt herself. She’s beautiful and confident and mine. I don’t give a fuck what anyone else has to say, but I know the ugliness of public opinion can be brutal. It’s why I avoid strip clubs and getting drunk in public. I don’t want my father’s name dragged through the mud because of me.
Except now I’ve done the same thing to Allie.
“Look,” Schmidt cuts in, “the groupies, rumors, and public scrutiny aren’t going to go away. If you want this relationship to work, you have to figure out a way to get past all the bullshit. The good news is, she didn’t outright dump you or deck you when those pictures came out, so you still have a chance to fix this.”
“How? How do I fix this?” I can’t take the pictures or the naked girl back. I can’t change my past.
Schmidt shakes his head. “It’s your relationship. This is one of those things you have to figure out on your own.”
"I don't know what I'm doing.”
"Obviously," Schmidt says dryly. "But if you’re serious about winning her back, you’ll come up with something.”
I stare at Schmidt, confused by this entire conversation. “Why are you telling me this? You don’t even like me.”
One corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile. “True. But I like Allie and she looks just as miserable as you do.” Hearing that shouldn’t make me happy, but it does. “Plus,” he continues, his smile turning smug, “I’m going to enjoy watching you make a fool out of yourself to win her back.”
I walk back to my table still in a daze.
“Uh oh. Looks like talking to Schmidt turned T into a zombie,” Levi jokes. “It’s official: Schmidt is the modern-day Medusa.”
“How do I get people to stop talking about it?” I mutter to myself.
“What? The pictures?” Levi asks. “Dude, a lot of these people were still in high school a few months ago. Hell, Carlton is basically high school on steroids. I’m sure someone will do something stupid at a frat party this week and they’ll move on to that next.”
“Or maybe someone will put on a really good show at the Greek Riff Off and the video goes viral,” Mo offers.
An idea suddenly pops into my head. “Do any of you know where I can find a cable knit sweater?”
27
Allie
“CAN you believe it’s snowing already?” Lia asks, flipping through the small menu on the table in front of her. “They’re saying we’re going to get an inch tonight.”
I make a humming sound, not really paying attention to a word she’s saying. I’m focused on my phone, which I’m not using to text Theo. Nope. Instead, I set it on the table by my right hand. It’s like a challenge, keep the phone within arm’s reach and resist making contact. Or checking social media.
So far, I have successfully ignored the urge all week. Except it doesn’t feel like I’m winning.
I miss him. So damn much. Every time my phone dings with a new message, my heart skips a beat, hoping it’s him. Hoping he’s texting me with another this or that question. Hoping he’s calling me so I can fall asleep to the sound of his voice again.
Hoping he’s missing me as much as I miss him.
I know I’m being unfair. I was the one who asked for space, but fuck, I didn’t realize space would feel so empty. It feels like I lost a limb. No, like I lost a piece of my soul. How is it possible someone I barely knew, could barely stand, just a few months ago has managed to burrow his way so thoroughly into my heart?
“Hello? Al?” Lia snaps her fingers in front of my face. “No snarky comment on how it’s December in Massachusetts?”
I reach for my margarita glass and take a giant gulp. I want to get drunk, be numb to it all. I’m so sick and tired of having to put on a fake plastic smile, pretending this whole shit storm isn’t affecting me. The funny thing is, I don’t even care about the rumors so much anymore. The whispers are nothing compared to the hell that is sitting next to Theo in stony silence.
It’s hard sitting next to him in class, having to look at his beautiful face and not talk to him. Not ask him what he thought of the latest episode of Outlander or make a joke about ravishing me in the library later. I could change seats, there are a couple of empty ones thanks to our long lost group members. But every time I think about doing it, I feel a pang in my heart.
So I continue to sit next to him and try not to look completely miserable.
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Camilla says, “but we have reached DEFCON 5 status.”
I arch a brow. “I think you mean DEFCON 1.”
“No, 5. As in, the world is about to end.”
I shake my head. “DEFCON 1 means nuclear war is imminent. DEFCON 5 is just business as usual.”
Camilla tilts her head. “Really? Wouldn’t the opposite make more sense? Category 5 hurricanes are the bad ones. Like Katrina.”
“Katrina was a Category 3 hurricane,” I correct.
“Really? I always thought-”
“Whatever,” Lia cuts in. “Tell her what you told me.”
“Okay,” Camilla nods. “So don’t get mad, but Cam and I bumped into Theo the other day.”
Something hot sparks up in my chest and if my body temperature is any indication, I’m blushing. I can’t pretend I’m not interested in hearing about Theo. His social media feeds have become my primary source of information, all of which have gone completely silent since the incident.
Not wanting to appear too interested, I take another sip of my drink. And because I don’t trust my voice right now, I murmur a simple, “Oh?”
That’s all Camilla needs to unleash the floodgates. “I don’t thi
nk he cheated. He looked absolutely miserable, like he hadn’t slept in days. He explained what happened and Cam says he believes him. Says he used to find naked girls in his room and got sent nudie pics all the time and he was just the backup quarterback so you know the starter must get way more.”
My stomach twists and I can’t even pretend it’s due to the alcohol. Camilla means well, but her confession only adds fuel to my already burning anxiety. Desperate for something to do, I reach for the basket of fries. I have no idea where these fries even came from. They must have ordered while I was having my pity party.
“I just don’t think he would do it,” Camilla babbles on. Or maybe she never stopped. I don’t know. The margarita is finally kicking in. “I know he has a reputation, but he’s so different with you. He gave you the title. The first and only girl he’s ever called his girlfriend.”
“You popped his relationship cherry,” Lia chimes in. “Took his relationship virginity like a boss.”
“All I’m saying is, talk to him,” Camilla continues. “Hear him out before you make any decisions. Anyway, I have to go change since my set starts in twenty minutes. Think about what I said.” With those parting words, she squeezes both of my hands before heading backstage.
Lia clinks her glass against mine. “Your cousin is a relationship genius. I cosign everything she said.”
“My cousin is a relationship virgin,” I shoot back. “She’s never even kissed a guy. Since when are you two Team Theo?”
Lia shakes her head. “Team Allie, all the way. Trust me, if I thought it would make you happy, I would take a Louisville Slugger to both headlights of that pretty Range Rover of his before carving your name into the leather seats, Carrie Underwood style. Go to jail for it afterward and everything.”
I bite down on a grin. “The true definition of a ride or die.”
“You know it,” Lia nods. “Even though we both know I’d never make it in the big house, that’s how much I love you. But I get the feeling you’re not after revenge.”
“I’m not,” I agree. “To be honest, I’m not sure I believe he cheated either.”