Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Another few minutes to make it past the doorway. High fives and cheers all around. No one has seen me out at a party since school officially began, meaning I haven’t been accessible to those classmates who only have the chance to get close to me in class or when I’m not hiding in my room.
“Colter, can I get you a beer?”
I have no idea how to introduce Ryann—everyone is acting as if she isn’t there, though she’s standing next to me.
Which defeats the entire purpose of her joining me tonight, doesn’t it?
Reaching my arm around, I have no choice but to put it around her waist.
“Thanks. Can you grab two? One for me, one for her?”
That’s when they notice.
The arm.
The arm wrapped around the girl.
The girl.
Turns out she is wearing high heels and they add a few inches to her already tallish frame; when I glance down, it’s down at her boobs, though that isn’t where I intended to glance.
Shit.
She noticed.
There’s a shit-eating grin on her damn face as she looks around the room. “Now what?”
“No idea.” I hate this crap.
Hate the socializing and how everyone acts so fucking excited to see me when they know nothing about me. They want photos and selfies, and that’s what we’re going to give them tonight.
“Smile,” I say into the crown of her hair. “Everyone is watching.”
“Did you just kiss my head?”
Is she joking? “No, I didn’t kiss your head. I was tryin’ to be discreet. Get over yourself.”
Ryann laughs, making small talk with the guys from my team, the majority of them she’s never met even though she dated Diego—who hasn’t made an appearance yet, thank God.
Don’t know how I’d deal with that.
“Bro!” A hand slaps me on the back, and I turn.
“Dude,” I say to my brother, Drake, who has the neighbor girls in tow.
Why does he insist on hanging out with those two? Jeez, they’re nothing but a pair of grasping wannabes. Barely have anything to say, showing up half dressed. Speaking of which, what’s with the pair of them at the same time? They’re not twins.
What the fuck is that all about?
“Glad you’re here.” My brother burps. “You can take us home later.”
I shake my head. “We’re not staying long.”
“Awesome.” The dumbass grins. “We’ll bounce when you bounce. These two hate walking.”
“Well, if those two hate walking, then by all means, let me drive you all home…” I quip sarcastically, taking the beers out of a rookie teammate’s hand when he brings the cups over, promptly handing one to Ryann.
She sips daintily, foam catching on her top lip.
As we stand there like turds floating in a punch bowl, cell phones are produced and we’re caught in the crossfire of duck lips and filters. Not everyone is obvious about it; most of them are stealthy.
“This is so weird,” Ryann mutters.
“What’s weird?”
She takes yet another sip. “The way everyone is fawning all over you.”
Is that what they’re doing? I barely notice anymore.
“They’re not fawning all over me.”
She scoffs. “Yes, they are.”
Don’t know what to say to that except, “You get used to it.”
“I won’t have to. This is temporary,” she reminds me out of the side of her mouth, cup in front of her lips.
“Well, this is my life.” Do I sound bitter? “Welcome to it.”
“This will only get worse if you play professionally,” she says, as if I didn’t already know. As if I haven’t already thought about this.
“Gee, thanks for letting me know. I wasn’t aware.”
Ryann laughs. “How can you stand it?”
I can’t.
“My brother does it and so can I. All ya gotta do is mentally prepare to go out in public.”
At least that’s what Duke tells me. Then again, the dude had to hide out in his girlfriend’s house for two weeks before letting the world know he was switching football teams. She wasn’t his girlfriend at the time, so the whole situation was like a bad comedy.
“And mentally prepare to come to a college party?” Ryann’s brows are raised.
“Listen.” My fingers tap along the side of my beer cup. “A lot of these dudes are my best friends and we don’t have many bye weeks, so I think I can tolerate this for one night. I do love these guys.”
Being an athlete, there is an unspoken, unwritten vow of loyalty. We’re a brotherhood that sticks together—yeah, it’s hard explaining it to outsiders, but that doesn’t change the fact that I would give my life for most of these idiots.
It’s for the love of the game.
The party is uneventful and basic: loud music, makeshift bar in the corner. Beer pong in the basement, which has been spraypainted with glow-in-the-dark paint, black lights everywhere. Couples dancing and making out, more so as the hour wears on.
Drake and his posse circle our atmosphere again, my brother constantly surrounded by women. Weird because Drew isn’t, and they’re identical twins…