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Thirteen
Junior
“What’s up, little brother?”
I glance up at Maggie. She’s got that look in her eyes, the same one she’s graced me with since she picked up her first psychology book when she was twelve.
“Nothing,” I answer, hopefully dodging the inevitable psychoanalysis.
“You’ve barely touched your lunch,” she notes, looking down at my half-eaten burger.
I shrug. “Still a little shocked, I guess.”
“Yeah, you and the entire school,” she chuckles, glancing around the student union. “Sounds like the new coach has really brought the competitive spirit back to the team.”
Eliza flashes into my memory, naked and moaning in the back of my van.
Win the next game and I’ll let you fuck my brains out.
“He certainly has,” I say.
“Well, I’m proud of you,” Maggie says. “Keep it up.”
I raise a brow. “Did I just hear the P-word from you?”
“Yeah, it felt weird to me, too…”
I take a big bite of my burger but it doesn’t go down easy. I didn’t go to the gym this morning. There’s a chance I’ll run into Eliza there and after last night, I can’t guarantee I’ll keep my hands off of her. Six days to go until the next game…
“I bet the girls were all over you last night.”
I blink out of it. “What?”
“More than usual, right?” Maggie asks, taking a sip of her drink. “Keep up the wins and I bet you’ll have to start beating them off with a stick. No wonder you look so tired today…”
“You got that right,” I chuckle, lying through my teeth.
I haven’t even looked at another girl since I first laid eyes on Eliza. Her little comment about dumb sorority girls not being enough for me was more truthful than I care to admit. There’s no challenge involved with them like there is with Eliza. She’s pushing my buttons in ways I never thought possible and I’ve never been more annoyed and turned-on at the same time.
“So…” Maggie clears her throat. “You haven’t mentioned anything about that date.”
“Oh, that…” The date with Eliza feels like a million years ago now. I don’t even feel angry about the whole thing anymore. “She was… interesting.”
“Interesting enough for a second date?”
I shake my head. “I don’t do second dates. You know that.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Someday, you’ll change your mind about that, little brother.”
“Someday is not today,” I say, grinning. “And today, I’m shopping for a big stick to beat the ladies off with.”
“How romantic,” she slurs.
* * *
The professor laysmy quiz on the desk in front of me and I instantly cringe. A bright, red F glares back at me.
Failing a second math quiz in a row is not what the coach had in mind when he told me to get my grades up.
