Page 78 of His Reckless Freshman

Jamal’s the first to move. He slams the locker shut, grabs his bag, and starts heading for the bus. And we all follow suit. The ride back is painfully quiet, and by the time we arrive, I can tell we’re sitting on a powder keg. I don’t know who’s going to blow first. Probably Mac.

“I need to get drunk,” Darian mutters.

The unsettled look on his face has me thinking I might need to follow the guy wherever he’s going.

Shit, it’s like our win didn’t even happen.

How do you celebrate when you’ve just found out your coach is mere months away from dying?

“Let’s hit up Offside,” Sawyer suggests as the rest of the team disperses. We all agree, heading for the sports bar on foot.

It takes us about fifteen minutes to walk there, and we don’t say much along the way.

Shit. This sucks.

“Do you think they’ll find us a new head coach?” Sawyer finally asks the question we’ve all been thinking when we take a seat at a table.

I run my thumb up my beer bottle and shrug.

Mac scoffs. “Who the fuck knows. If they do, it’ll be some jackass who used to be a high school coach or someone who’s never coached a team before. It’s not like they can get any decent guys here. We suck.”

“Not tonight,” I softly argue. “Tonight, we won.”

“Tonight was a fucking miracle,” Mac mutters, shaking his head and looking antsy. Eyeing up the room, he spots a group of girls around the pool table and smirks. “Later, guys.”

I roll my eyes, and we all turn to watch him approach the one who looks most like a princess. Mac seems to have a type, and I can’t figure it out. He’s definitely not after a woman of any substance, that’s for sure. I actually heard him say once that he likes them rich and clueless. Apparently, they’re more fun.

Shaking my head, I spin away from him and focus on my beer.

“I’m hitting up the dance floor.” Sawyer sighs, sliding off his stool like he doesn’t really want to dance, but he’ll do pretty much anything not to dwell on what we just found out.

Darian slugs back his beer, then follows him, leaving just me and Jimmy at the table.

He gives me an awkward smile, then stands. “Actually, I’m gonna bail. I’ve got some studying to do.”

“On a game night?”

He gives me a helpless shrug and slips away.

And now it’s just me, watching my teammates flirt with girls while I try to remind myself what my goals are for the year.

Ace my classes.

Have fun playing basketball.

And… no women.

I sigh, pulling out my phone and checking the screen. I have no new messages, yet I find myself wanting to send one.

To Jolie.

I want to tell her about our win.

I want to tell her about Coach.

Shit, I just want to talk to her.

Which is dangerous. I shouldn’t want that, just like I shouldn’t be texting her to tell her that I’m free on Wednesday night and ask if she’d like me to book a room.