Jockblocked: A Novel (Gridiron Book 2)(92)

I lose my temper. “For the past ten weeks, you’ve treated me like a nuisance at best and a demon who hates you at worst. Every time I’ve given a suggestion on how to improve, you’ve snapped my head off. Now you want me to confide in you?”

Heather waves her hand dismissively, as if the past few weeks of contentiousness haven’t happened. “I don’t want to be your friend, but I want to win this competition, and I know that if you’re not on top of your game, we aren’t going to win, so if talking it out is going to help you get your head out of your ass, then I’m all ears.”

“Gosh, Heather, with that kind of invitation, I don’t know why I’m not barfing out all my emotional drama to you,” I say sarcastically.

“Aha! So something is wrong,” she says as if she’s won something. But hasn’t she? I denied something was wrong. She kept pressing until I lost my cool.

I can’t keep in my surprised laughter. “Aha? Yes, Ms. Perry Mason, that was a pretty perfect cross-examination.”

Heather flushes. “I am getting the hang of things, aren’t I?”

“Yes. Yes, you are,” I agree. “Which is why I didn’t correct you even though you didn’t ask Emily if she was under oath at the time of her deposition just as she was under oath now.”

“Ahh, that’s the phrase.” Heather snaps her fingers. “I ask to approach the witness, wait for permission, and then ask the witness when she testified previously if she was under oath.”

“Right. That way you get her to subtly acknowledge she was either lying then or lying now.”

“And how many points do I get for impeaching the witness?” she asks.

“At least one full point, and they’ll lose points, so it’s a win/win for us.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Rarely.”

“Bummer.” She pushes her bottom lip out.

“On the plus side, you know how to do it now.” I hold out my hand. “Can I have my bag back?”

“No. Not until you’ve told me what is wrong.”

“I can fight you for it.”

“But you won’t because you believe in being patient and kind.” She taps the backpack with the heel of her foot.

“I don’t like you very much right now.” I stare at her in frustration. Heather’s completely unaffected by my growing irritation.

“As if that’s different from any other time.”

Oh hell, why not. I throw my coat down and take a seat across from her. “You remember Matty, right?” He’d come to a few practices.

“Did I suffer amnesia? Of course, I remember f*ckboy.”

I stand up. “We’re done now.”

“No, come on, sit down,” Heather pleads. “I know I suck at this. Give me another shot.” I don’t move. “Please,” she says.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Heather shrugs. “I don’t know. I have no filter. My dad is a no-bullshit kind of guy, and he doesn’t tolerate any filter at home, so I’m a bitch.” She laughs, but it’s a bitter one. “But the ironic thing is that he dates these...babies who talk like babies and act like babies and everything that comes out of their mouths is fake and childish, but it’s me that he hates. I’m doing this whole thing to show him that I’m exactly what he made me.”

Jesus, that sounded awful. I sit down.

“So it’s guy trouble,” she muses.

I nod slowly. “Yes. It’s guy trouble.” She makes a winding motion with her hand. I heave a sigh. “I have a guy friend, and he was angry I’d been seeing Matty.”

She interrupts. “Can we have names or identifying marks?”

“Identifying marks?” I query.

“Yeah, like this one guy I slept with had a mole on his neck so I’d call him Spot and this other guy I slept with had a square head so I’d call him Frank.”

“Short for Frankenstein?” I guess.

“Exactly. So you have Matt and who?”

“JR. Or Ace. Everyone calls him Ace. Ace and I have been friends for a long time. He just busts out with the friend-zone accusation when he finds out I’ve been sleeping with Matty. But Matty apparently can’t keep his hands to himself. Ace took pictures of Matty being drunk and handsy with another girl.”

The latter accusation is a bit unfair to Matty, but there’s a ring of truth to it. I don’t trust him. I never really did, looking back. When he said he was falling for me, I was too afraid to give him the same reply in return, even though I knew I was under his spell from the minute he tossed me the aspirin packet.

Still, I know he didn’t exactly cheat on me, and even though he’s not here, I’m impelled to clarify things. “Okay, that’s not fair. He didn’t cheat on me. He was drunk and another girl kissed him. Pictures were taken and I felt like a fool when I saw them.”

She tips her head to one side and then the other, as if assessing the quality of my reasoning. “Are you saying he didn’t respect you?”

I think about it. “No. It’s really his life. He’s super attractive. He’s literally one of those guys that every man wants to be and every woman wants to be with. When he goes out to a bar, women are all over him. And even if he tells them he’s taken, they still push themselves on him, hoping to convince him otherwise.”