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Yeah, but then you would have heard me, you asshole, I think, but I don’t say anything out loud.
My best friend Clarice is always asking me why I don’t do voice dictation, too. I just tell her the truth: I like to keep my cards close to my vest.
No one can read what I scribble down. But for voice recording, you never know who might be listening and stealing your ideas or anticipating what you’re going to ask them in advance.
Case in point: this rude stranger here, whoever he is.
I think about asking him if he’s a Leviathan, but then I think better of it. Of course he is – he just came out of their locker room while I had been trying to follow Mason for a story. There must have been some last-minute change in the roster that I’m not aware of, and I don’t want to look like an idiot for being caught off guard.
I like to act prepared, even when I’m not. It’s something my strict parents taught me. They also taught me a lot of old-fashioned things – not just to always carry a notebook and a pencil in case I had any good ideas and wanted to write them down.
Things like, to never trust anyone, especially men, because they often have bad intentions.
To never watch Rated R movies or listen to rock music, because these things are of the devil.
And to never to have sex until marriage, which is why I’m still a virgin, even though I don’t really want to be.
My V-card has long passed its expiration date, but I haven’t found the right person to give it to. Still, I feel weird, walking around still having it.
This might sound strange, but I swear it makes me feel less confident, which in turn makes it harder to do my job, in which I have to act as tough as a tiger.
Like now, for instance.
I’m not going to show any signs of anxiety over not knowing who this new player is, even though that’s all I feel on the inside.
Fake it ‘till you make it, right?
“You’re a straggler,” I tell him. “You stay behind for extra practice?”
He laughs at me but nods his head as if he appreciates my sense of humor.
I was hoping my rather generic question would get him to open up and say something like, “Yes, as a matter of fact, since I’m brand new to the team and we happen to be playing a very important game in two weeks, I stayed longer to put in some extra time on the field.”
Of course, that isn’t what happens.
It was naïve of me to think it could be.
Instead, he says, “Can’t a man shower in peace? That’s all I was doing in there.”
He nods his head towards the locker room, and I do see that he’s already in his plain clothes, with no football uniform or gear on, so I guess it’s true that he’s just a slow shower-er.
“Fair enough,” I tell him, rather disappointed that he’s clearly not going to give up any juicy information.
“In fact, I have to get my stuff ready so I can leave,” he says. “I was just helping Mason out, due to his limp, but now I have to go back in and deal with my own equipment. Care to come with?”
I look at him in what I hope is the most neutral expression possible, trying not to let my jaw hang open onto the floor. I was dying to get invited into the locker room, but no other player let me in.
This new one must not yet be acquainted with Coach Kramer’s rules: the locker room is for players only; not for members of the press. For a moment, a shiver runs down my spine when I think about what Coach K would do if he found out his rule had been broken. I’m not the one who is on the team and who has to follow the coach’s rules, though, so I breeze right past him, acting as if it’s a normal thing for me to come right on into the locker room.
“Sure, I’ll come in with you,” I say, as he holds the door open for me, as if I’m used to doing this. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and not the very first time I’ve gotten to do it. “But only if you’re going to give me a good scoop.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, and I almost can’t believe it.
I want to pinch myself.
But I don’t want to be a fool.
My mom’s voice echoes in my head, reminding me not to be so trusting.
This feels too easy and too good to be true, and I can’t help wondering what the catch is.
Chapter 2
Stacy
As we head over to the lockers, I wonder how to ask this athlete his name without sounding like a dummy, in the event that there was some big news that broke and that I should have seen. I’m wondering how that could have happened, though. I always stay on top of my game by keeping up with all possible breaking sports news.
