Joe Football Read online

  “Dayum, girl. You are going to be setting off many fire detectors in that,” Cal jokes and whistles at me.

  “You got that right. No one will be looking at me because they will all be looking at you,” Jana adds, not a hint of jealousy in her voice.

  I do a quick spin. “What, this old thing?” I bat my eyes playfully as I look over my shoulder at them.

  Cal squeezes my butt. “If I were into girls, I would totally try to score with you tonight.”

  “My loss,” I confess as I grab my car keys.

  I drive the forty minutes to the city, just outside our college town. The city isn’t large by big city standards, but it is the closest thing we have to civilization. I park across the street from the club, aptly named City Limit. Instantly, a wave of regret for leaving my dorm hits me when I see the line to get inside of the small dingy venue.

  “Guys, this line is ridiculous. Let’s just go back to the dorm,” I plead, borderline whining.

  “Uh-uh.” Cal links his arm with mine and Jana mirrors on my other side. “We’ve got tickets in the front. Jana will smooth talk the bouncer.”

  “Trust me, have I ever let you down?” she giggles as we walk. No, they walk, and drag me with them to the front of the line.

  Unhooking her arm from mine, she tosses her blonde hair over her shoulders and strolls to the bouncer with an air of confidence. Watching Jana go into action with the bouncer, who is the size of a sumo wrestler, is like watching an artist paint his greatest achievement. She casually touches the man's chest as she undoubtedly tosses a compliment at him. The man who looked horrendously imposing only moments ago is now a bubble of mush at Jana’s fingers. She throws him that winning smile, flashing all thirty-two pearly whites, and he is done for.

  She turns around and waves for us to join her. He opens the door for us as we bypass the other ticket holders to get inside.

  “What did you say to him?” I ask, as we walk into the dimly-lit room that has clouds of cigarette smoke in the air. I cough a little and pray I don’t get lung cancer from second-hand smoke.

  “A little of this and a little of dat,” she teases. “Oh wait, I think that’s our table over there.” She stands on her tippy toes and points to a table in front of the stage.

  “It can’t be. It still has beer bottles on it,” I complain. The more I look around this place, the more I think this is not a good idea.

  “I think Jana’s right. The tickets say front stage.” Cal squints at the tickets.

  “Yeah, that he wrote on,” I scoff, as I wave my hand in front of my face. The smoke is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  Jana drags me behind her, with Cal in tow, to the tables in the front. I don’t know how she did it, but she was able to flag down a hostess to clear the table for us. As I take a seat, I’m still mildly confused as to how she was able to spot a hostess in this dark room.

  Jana gives the girl our drink orders as I scan the room for Brice, as best I can. But it’s hard to see my hands in front of my own face, much less someone a few feet from me. Disappointment hits me, and I briefly wonder if perhaps he isn’t going to show up.

  Regan somehow miraculously finds our table without an issue. I wonder if she’s a nightcrawler with perfect night vision.

  She is rockin’ a tight black v-neck t-shirt, with “State of Mind” emblazoned on it in studs. Her jean skirt is so short I think, if the poor girl sneezes, it would give everyone a peep show. “I didn’t know you guys were coming out tonight,” Regan says. In Regan speak, this means, ‘you being here will steal my thunder’.

  “Well, Egon was kind enough to give us front row seats.” I couldn’t help but throw that in her face. Catty? Perhaps, but who cares.

  Regan's face drops slightly, but she recovers quickly, flipping her long black straight hair. One of the nicer nicknames for her, out of a few, is Pocahontas because of her olive complexion and dark hair that goes down to her butt. “Oh really? He didn’t mention it to me. Egon and I are practically a couple.” Regan and her daydreams. The word around campus is Egon was done with her after the bonfire party, but she has been chasing after him, begging him to give her the time of day.

  I roll my eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Suuurrre,” I reply.

  A few people stop off at our table to say hello to me, Jana, and Cal. Some pull up their chairs and sit with us. Before I know it, our party of three has turned into a party of more. This is exactly what I was not in the mood for. I’m starting to get bored when a hand passes in front of me, holding a drink for me to take. I grab the glass and place it on the table without looking to see who gave it to me, or even to say thank you.

  “You’re looking good, baby,” Jameson croons in my ear. I swat at him like he’s a fly. That’s what he gets for invading my personal space.

  “Go away,” I tell him, holding back a yawn. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Jameson since earlier in the week when I stupidly slept with him.

  He ignores my comment. “You haven’t been returning my phone calls. I’m beginning to feel like you’re ignoring me.”

  I close my eyes. How did I end up in bed with him? I stopped the sexual part of our friendship before the summer. I should’ve kept it that way. Turning to look at him. “Listen, I think we need to….” Then Brice’s voice cuts me off mid-sentence.

  “You look beautiful,” Brice says to me.

  The sound of his deep voice sends me into orbit. “Thanks,” I reply, as I swallow hard, trying to steady my nerves.

  He takes a seat in front of me. Members of the football team join our table; people instantly stand and give their seats to them. His teammates sit without acknowledgment of the poor schmucks who are now left to stand.

  “Jameson,” Brice quips. Did I detect a note of hostility?

  “Brice,” Jameson bites out. Guess I would be salty too if someone took my spot on the team.

  Brice now has my full attention. I look at him with his brown eyes and dark hair, his loose-fitting jeans hanging ever so nicely on his slim waist. My mother would call the look unkempt. I would say it is swexy. Someone brings him a beer that he gladly accepts. Taking a drink from his glass, he wipes the foam from his upper lip, and I wonder briefly what it would be like to lick it off him. My thoughts are interrupted when Jana asks Brice a question.

  “Egon is your best friend, right?”

  “Oh yeah. We’ve been best friends since we were seven years old.”

  “Wow. That is great,” Jana replies in her singsong voice.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “So, Brice, are you, me, and Egon going to an after-party later?” Regan asks.

  Say what?

  He looks at her, before turning his attention to me, disregarding her question. “So. I didn’t get a chance to ask you since that day. How come you were so upset?”

  “Oh, no reason,” I respond, praying he doesn’t press me further. He stares at me for a moment as if he wants to ask again, but he changes his mind.

  Jameson places an arm over my shoulder. I turn and glare at him, and he removes it instantly. I look up to see Brice smiling at me. That smile of his makes me feel warm. Did my heart just flutter?

  “Brice? After party or what?” Regan asks again.

  “If there is one, I doubt you’re invited,” he says, without sparing the poor girl a glance.

  Her mouth drops open. “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t stutter. If there is one, you’re not invited,” he repeats, this time slower.

  Her mouth twists in anger. “I’m his girlfriend.” She uses the line that she undoubtedly used to get in here with.

  “About that. The two of you hooked up once, and that’s all. He never returned any of your phone calls or texts after. So, stop going around campus saying you’re his girlfriend. It makes you look pathetic, especially when he’s still screwing other girls.”

  Oh, this lad, how he grows on me. I look up and give him a smile. Regan stands up and throws her drink in his face, stor
ming off, with Jana behind her to console her.

  “Looks like you just made a friend,” I remark sarcastically.

  Some blonde Barbie with perky breasts that I don’t think were nature-made wipes Brice’s face with a napkin. He gently removes the napkin from her hands and wipes himself off, laughing. God, if only I could be that napkin.

  The football team are all whooping and hollering at the whole scene.

  “I love new friends. Haven’t you heard?” he snickers.

  The lights become dimmer in the already dimly-lit room, and the stage is lit up. The band comes on stage, taking their places, and waits for Egon to appear. He comes out moments later in torn, faded jeans, and a State of Mind black form-fitting t-shirt.

  “Hel-low City Limit,” Egon screams into the mic, and the crowd erupts. “You ready to party?”

  Screams of “Yeah.” explode from around the crowded room.

  Egon plays up to the crowd and steps back, pretending like he couldn’t hear us. “I’m going to ask one more time. And when I do, I want you to give me everything you got, just like I’m about to.” He signals his bass player. The bass player, whose hair is dyed purple, hits a note. “On my count, when I get to three, you tell me who in this room is ready to party.” The bass player plays a chord. “One. Two. Three.” The screams from the crowd are so loud I fear my eardrums will burst. “That’s what I was waiting for.” He adjusts the height of the mic and swivels his hips. Girls behind me scream out his name. He hears them and gives them a wink. “Let’s party.” he screams, and again, he has the crowd. I’m amazed at his magnetism and how the crowd is with him all the way.

  Egon grabs the microphone and starts belting out the beginning of one of their songs acapella, and the mob goes crazy. The band begins to play when he starts the second verse of the song. Egon has a stage presence about him that is undeniable. He rips off his shirt in the middle of the third song, wipes the sweat off his forehead, and throws it to the ladies standing in front of the stage. These girls knock each other over for the shirt that eventually ends up ripped to shreds as they each grab at it.

  “They’re amazing,” I scream out to no one in particular.

  Brice leans in close. “Yeah, they are. Egon has been talking about being in a band since we were twelve years old. This is his dream come true.”

  “And you? Did you always know you wanted to be a football player?” I ask, taking a sip of my water.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I guess so. I was a huge Kyne Hollister fan when I was a kid. Had dreams to be just like him.” I try to hide the shock on my face at the mention of my father’s name. I should be used to it by now.

  Jameson gives him a smirk. “That’ll never happen. “

  “Never thought I could play just like him. I just hope to bring the game as much dignity that he did,” Brice responds.

  Listening to Brice talk, he sounds so much like my brother in that moment. I begin to get lost in my thoughts when Egon speaks into the microphone.

  “This next song is dedicated to two very special people to me. My best friend Brice, who you all know as the Cougars starting quarterback, and my new friend, Favor.” Egon begins singing a love song.

  All eyes settle on the two of us. Jana and Cal both give me the thumbs up, and I want to melt into the wooden floors. I look up to see Brice gazing at me with a certain look in his eyes. If I had to name it, I would say its hunger. Does he want me as much as I want him? Closing my eyes, I try to shut away the spell he has over me and let the music carry me. Opening my eyes, but still feeling the hypnotic trance that Brice has over me, I see him still staring at me. Instead of being broken out of my trance, he pulls me in deeper. It feels as if everything is happening in slow motion, even when he stands and offers me his hand to take. I stare at his waiting hand and contemplate what would happen if I take it. What would this simple gesture mean? For some reason, it feels like it holds my future and that terrifies me. Jana, who I didn’t see stand up and walk behind me, nudges me. The spell of the moment is broken, but not the one he has over me. I take his hand and let him lead me to what I know will feel more like home than the one I’ve lived in my entire life. Pulling me close, I’m flush against his body and can feel his every movement. Our dance is slow and intimate like the song that Egon is singing.

  We let the music move us as we move to it as one. I close my eyes and place my head on his shoulder, taking in his scent of spice and oak. The world is gone, and everyone around us has disappeared at this moment. No one exists but the two of us. The music must’ve stopped at some point because we begin to hear catcalls directed at us. I try to step back and pull away, but he holds me for a moment longer, and blows out a breath he was holding before releasing me. I step backward, staring into his eyes, still in shock at the hold he has over me.

  “Favor?” Jana asks, breaking me out of my trance.

  Not wanting to lose eye contact with him, I take a deep breath and then grudgingly turn towards Jana. “Yeah?”

  “Regan is pretty drunk. She needs a ride back to campus. Can we go?”

  I look back to Brice, who is still standing near me, while various hangers on vy for his attention. He is still staring at me. I shake my head to get the cobwebs out of my brain, and turn back to Jana. “Yeah sure, let’s go.” She grabs my hand and pulls me in the direction of where she left Regan.

  We reach Regan, who is almost passed out at a table as Cal stands over her. Jameson comes up from behind. “Need me to carry her?”

  Startled, I turn to him and then nod my head. He lifts her with ease, and we make our way towards the front door.

  Jana, Cal, and Regan are settled in the backseat as Jameson closes the car door. He looks at me and frowns.

  “Did you have to dance with him?”

  “I’m not doing this with you.” I cross my hands over my chest, jutting out my chin.

  “Everything revolves around you, doesn’t it? But what about me? What about us?”

  “There was never an ‘us’, and you know it. I’m sorry if I’ve led you to believe…”

  He throws his hands up in the air. “Forget it.” He walks across the street and heads back inside the club.

  I walk over to the driver's side and open my door. I see Brice across the street, staring from a distance. My heart drops for a moment as I try to figure out if he was standing there the entire time.

  Chapter 7

  Brice

  Parked in front of Favor’s dorm, I’ve been sitting on top of my car, waiting for her for the past forty minutes. Jana said that Favor went for a run, so I decided to hang out and wait for her. Since that dance we had at the club last week, I know she feels the connection between us. So here I am, waiting and waiting, and waiting some more. A few people pass by who know me, stopping to ask me if I’ll be going to tonight’s party or not. I’m hoping I can convince Favor to go out with me tonight, so the party option is off the table for now.

  Finally, I see Favor walking towards her dorm, sweat glistening on her skin. Hopping off my car hood, I jog over to her.

  “Good run?” She jumps, clutching her chest. “Shit, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” I hold my hands out to steady her.

  One hand covering her heart, the other, her forehead, she replies, “Yeah. What are you doing here?”

  “Came to see you,” I say, putting on my winning smile.

  “Me? What for?” She smiles back cautiously.

  “Thought maybe you and I could hang out today. After you shower, of course.” I pinch my nose jokingly.

  She punches me in the arm. “Well, umm, I don’t know.”

  “Okay, you don’t have to shower if you don’t want.” Always did like my women a little dirty.

  “Ha-ha. I meant I don’t know about hanging out. I don’t date football players.”

  “That includes Jameson?”

  “I already told you. I never dated him. We’re just friends.”

  “It sort of didn’t look that way outsi
de of City Limit.”

  “About that. It's not what you think.” She bends her head down, her ponytail fanning out across her neck.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter,” I mutter. “Why you don’t date football players?”

  “It’s personal.” Her attention appears to be with her sneakers, so I stare down at them too. Hmm, just regular sneakers.

  I look back up and cup her chin with my fingers. I want her to feel that night again. I want her to relive that moment with me through my eyes. Her tongue licks out slowly across her lips, and I envy those pink lips.

  “Let’s not call it a date then. It is two friends hanging out.”

  She nibbles on her thumbnail. “I don’t know.” I almost have her.

  “Come on. Consider it ‘being kind to dumb jocks’ day. It’s a public service. I hear that by doing this, it will get you into heaven.”

  She laughs hysterically before saying, “Heaven? Wow. Well, I guess if you put it that way, I don’t have a choice. Give me thirty minutes to shower and change.” She gives me a playful shove before jogging the rest of the way towards her dorm, but not without first turning to give me another look before going inside.

  As soon as the door closes behind her, I do a fist pump in the air like I just won the lottery. But a date with Favor is so much better than a lottery winning; it is life itself for me. I wonder if I have enough time to get her some flowers. I look at my Fitbit Blaze and back at her dorm. She did say thirty minutes but what if she comes out early and I’m not here. Nah, better not risk it. Shit, I should’ve been better prepared. The first ten minutes, I pace back and forth in front of the building, looking up whenever a student opened the door. Now I know how dogs feel when they wait for their master to come home.

  Exactly thirty minutes later, she appears, and I think I’m in love. Not only did she come back on time, because let’s face it, chicks say thirty minutes, when really, they mean two hours, but she looks stunning in her jeans and school sweatshirt.

  “Okay, I’m in your hands. Where to?” Hmm, in my hands? Yeah, I like the sound of that.