Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(12)

“Yeah, give me a big piece.”

She clearly thinks I’m short-changed in the big head. No clue what she thinks of me otherwise.

Me: I haven’t been rejected this hard since I tried to block the punt in that game against OSU last semester.

Masters: My wife says rejection is good for you. Makes you mentally tough.

Me: You love saying that phrase “my wife.”

Masters: You bet your fat ass I do.

Me: You don’t think it’s completely strange that you’re 21 and acting like a Taylor Swift song?

Masters: Bro, sorry you feel left out. Stop by later and I’ll give you a hug.

Me: Fuck off.

Masters: I have MY WIFE to do that for me. Thanks, though. Hug still stands. I’ll even let you smell me. MY WIFE says I smell delicious.

Me: I’ve smelled you before, which is why I’m not sure how you convinced Ellie to marry you. She must have defective olfactory senses.

Masters: Me and MY defective WIFE will be getting it on tonight. While u have only Rosie Palm.

Me: Don’t worry. I get plenty of variety. Left-hand Laura sometimes steps in.

Masters: Heard you were out with Josie Weeks. Be careful. She eats little linebackers like you for breakfast.

And the fact that I don’t even want to make a sexually charged comeback tells me exactly how I feel about Josie. Hope she doesn’t mind being just study partners.

“Here’s your apple streusel and your coffee cake.”

I tuck my phone back into my pocket. Lucy’s cheeks are back to a normal color, and her smile is one that says any future flirtations from me are about as welcome as a nighttime visit from a spider.

“You ever going to use that phone number?”

“I already did.” She tips her head down toward the end of the counter. “You can pick up your cider down there.”

I open my mouth to say something extremely witty when her male co-worker starts shouting out my phone number. So that’s what she wrote on the cup. The entire coffee house looks up at the skinny, hipster dude with his hair gelled so immaculately he might actually be a Ken doll come to life. Lucy spares me a glance under her eyelashes, and I can’t help but laugh.

I lean forward. “I like that you have it memorized.”

She pinkens, and I walk back to Josie’s table, laden with goodies and the sweet knowledge I actually won a tiny round against the formidable Lucy Watson.

“You know she’s a druggie, right?” Josie huffs when I sit down and start eating.

“Who?” I shovel the last of the streusel into my mouth and dig into the coffee cake, hoping there’s enough butter and sugar in it to overcome any actual coffee taste. After the first swallow, I realize I am an idiot because the cake is gross. I take another big bite and wash the entire mess down with a chaser of Gatorade.

“Lucy Watson!”

I rear back. “Lucy? The coffee shop girl?”

“Yes. One of my sisters lived in the same dorm as her and saw her shooting up her freshman year. Right before she sat down to eat!”

I can’t help but be impressed. “That’s hardcore. You really think she’d be injecting drugs in the middle of the college cafeteria?”

“Why? Do you want some of your own?” Josie says in disgust.

Obviously my lack of dismay over Lucy’s supposed drug addiction is a sign of moral depravity. I’m okay with that. I finish the coffee cake off before answering.

“No. I get random drug tests and wouldn’t be able to play if I test positive, so no.” There are guys who smoke weed to help with the pain. We have lots of guys on Adderall, too. Painkillers are handed out like candy by the team doctors, but I’m trying to avoid those aids as long as I can. Once you go down that path, I think it’s hard not to lean on them too much. “But anyone who is so addicted to drugs that she’d shoot up in a public place can’t function like she does.”

“So you know her?”

God, what’s with the fricking inquisition? “Yeah, we’re seeing each other,” I lie. I figure Josie’s not going over to confront her about this, so my lie is about the safest one I’ve ever uttered.

Josie’s mouth drops open. “Why’d you even come tonight, if you’re already dating someone?”

Now it’s my turn to be offended. “You said it was a study group.”

“And you believed me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Hell, maybe I shouldn’t venture outside the Gas Station. It’s too complex out here. “This is college, and study groups do exist. A lot. College is to study groups as libraries are to books. They go together.”

“But you’re a football player. A starter, right?”

“So?”

“So you don’t need to study.”

“Maybe not, but that’s because I’m smart, not because I get a pass for being a football player.”

“I thought…” She trails off and looks down at her papers in frustration.

I help her out. “You thought I was a dumb jock and would be grateful for your attention?”

She purses her lips. That’s exactly what she thought. “I can share my sorority sister’s outline with you.” She shoves a set of papers toward me.

“Thanks, but I don’t really need it. All of us dumb jocks get free tutoring.”