Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories) (2 page)

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“He’s
really
not your type,” Matt added.

“Hey, I know he might not be my type, but it’s still my decision,” I replied in frustration.

“Whoa, back off,” Matt said with a defensive gesture, “I’m not here to judge who you date, but I’m your
friend,
and I wouldn’t have expected you
to even show
the slightest amount of interested in someone like that.”

“I’m
really
not sure if I have,” I replied.

“He’ll probably be at my
party
if that entices you to come,” he said.

“I’m still going, I give you my word,” I replied while giving him a friendly punch on the arm.

We continued to talk and had a small bite before I broke off and returned home.  I was partially hoping that I wouldn’t run
into
Jeff at the party, and
partially
hoping I would.

3.

I took special effort in getting ready for the party.  I wore the sexiest underwear I owned, for one.  For two, I picked up a slinky dress that I only wore once before.  Matt even told me I shouldn’t wear it again because it garnered too much attention from somewhat unsavory characters.

I felt the need to unwind tonight; my head was twisted in so many different directions.
  My classes were
difficult
and distracting, continually occupying every facet of my being.  So, I prepared for fun.

My dress did a lot to show off my long and toned legs; along with my slight and skinny curves.  And, while I might not have had a gigantic chest, I knew how to make do with what I had. 

I left for Matt’s place at eight in the evening.  It was getting chilly this time of the year, so I brought along a comfortable jacket.  I glad that he didn’t live that far away, so I could just walk instead of taking a cab. 

“You made it!” Matt shouted when I stepped up to the door. 

He seemed to have some
kind of
sixth sense about my arrival as I hadn’t even knocked, yet.  I rolled my eyes at his exuberance, an expression that he was more than used to seeing.

“Hey, Matt,” I said sheepishly, trying to pull my dress back down to my knees. 

He looked me up and down and smiled broadly.

“So, who are you trying to impress tonight,” he asked, “
Cause
I hope you know that
I’m taken
.”

I punched him in the arm and entered, slipping my jacket off on the
way in
.  There were only a couple other people there, and they were barely talking.

“I thought you said this was going to be a party,” I said.

“Most real parties don’t start until after
ten; you
’re early.”

I made the most of my time; starting out I helped him set up a
couple of
tables and gathered a large bucket of ice.  He
constantly
reassured me that I didn’t have to help, but I felt like a dutiful guest.  I’ve thrown parties myself in the past, and while they weren’t the standard college affair, I never minded having
help
setting up.

Then the door opened to a flood of guests.  It didn’t take more than five minutes before there was a keg setup in the kitchen and enough snack food to serve a small army.

I laughed at how
efficient
college students could be when they had something to do that they were
interested in
. 

I did my best to stay social, trying to talk to as many people as I could.  Matt was hard to find in the midst of the chaos.  He was
a popular
guy, so it was completely understandable that he would be hard to find.  Still, he was one of the only people here that I knew.  I would have liked to spend more time with him.  Perhaps he could have introduced me to some people that I might have enjoyed
talking to
.

I got more looks from the guys than I was expecting.  I
constantly
would shuffle and adjust my dress to make sure it wouldn’t ride up so much. 
To say the least, I was regretting wearing something so revealing.
 

Then I saw someone that I
really
didn’t want to see in the slightest.  Albert walked in the front door with another girl in tow.  I didn’t recognize her at all, but I was flustered seeing my ex already in a new relationship. 

I ducked behind a dividing wall in the hopes that he wouldn’t notice me. 

“Who are we hiding from,” said a familiar voice.

I looked
over,
and Jeff was sidled up to the wall with a handful of cheese puffs.  I didn’t know how to put things gently, so I just put them bluntly.

“I’m hiding from my ex,” I said.

“Which one is he?” he asked.

I pointed at him from around the corner.  His new girl was about my height with short hair and a curvy body.  I bet she was the one I caught him in
bed with
.  I was furiously reliving the entire event when Jeff looked at me with a mouthful of those cheese
puffs,
and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“He doesn’t look like much,” Jeff said.

“Yeah, but he has everything that I look for in a man,” I said.

Jeff cocked an eye while staring at Albert and appeared to be deep in thought before he turned back to me.

“Boring?” he asked.

I laughed again.  He wasn’t completely wrong. 

“Boring guys aren’t
really
boring
; they
’re just stable.  You know what to expect,” I explained.

“Then why did you guys break up?” he asked while sipping on
a beer.

“He cheated on me,” I said.

“With her?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  I didn’t get a good enough look when I caught them in his bed,” I said.

“Wow, sounds like there are a lot of girls interested in boring guys,” Jeff said, “I bet you didn’t see that coming.”

I smacked my head against the wall, perhaps a little too hard.  I didn’t even think Albert went to parties like this. 

“Funny that he’s out with Carol; she’s slept with half the starting lineup, not
me,
though, she’s a little too … err … open when it comes to relationships,” Jeff commented.

I giggled.  While he wasn’t exactly the most cultured person I met, I found
a special
charm in his ability
to just tell
things as they are. 

“Hey Carol,” Jeff shouted and walked toward the two of them.

I peeked around the corner since Jeff probably had the two of them distracted.  Over the
music,
I could just barely make out their conversation.

“I was, but I met Albert here a
couple of
weeks
ago,
and I just can’t imagine being with anyone else,” Carol said, kissing Albert on the cheek.

Albert had a weird and disgusting smile on his face.  I wanted to walk over and smack it off his face.

“You mean, forever?  Or just this week,” Jeff asked.

I blurted with laughter which I immediately had to staunch with my hand.  I hoped they hadn’t heard
me,
and it didn’t look like they had.

“No, Jeff.  Albert is a good
guy; he
’s much better than all the other guys I dated,” she said.

“Well,” started Jeff, “you might want to speak a little quieter because just about all the other guys you dated are at this party.”

Carol had a frustrated look on her
face,
and she looked at Albert to defend her, but unfortunately for her, he remained
tight-lipped
.

“I didn’t come out tonight to get made fun of by a linebacker,” Carol said in a vain attempt to puff herself up.

“I didn’t know I was making fun of you.  I just wanted Albert, here, to know what he was getting himself into,” Jeff said.

Carol, obviously flustered, stormed out the front door, followed closely by her date of the evening.  I couldn’t stop laughing at how handily Jeff had dealt with the couple.

“You didn’t want them here, right,” Jeff asked as he walked back up, “cause if you want them back, I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

I reached out and wrapped my arm
in
his.

“Jeff, you just made my night,” I said. 

“Let’s get you a drink and pick up where we left off the other day,” Jeff said.

I
nodded,
and he poured me a glass from the keg.  I wasn’t much of a beer drinker, nor was I much of a drinker in general, but Jeff had earned at least one drink from me.

We adjourned to the tiny backyard of the house.  Christmas lights were wrapped neatly around the trunks of the sparse trees that provided cover in the
backyard
.  A picnic table sat
against
the fence, and the tables that Matt and I had
setup
earlier
were currently occupied
by people trying their best at beer pong. 

We grabbed a couple camping chairs and sat them on the grass away from the crowd so we could chat. 

“I didn’t know you were a linebacker,” I said.

“Well, I don’t exactly advertise my position.  Besides, the people that
come see
the games know my
position
; the people that don’t see the games just don’t care.  I don’t care enough to tell everyone my life story.”

“So you’re saying you don’t tell people that don’t watch games because you don’t think they’ll
really
care that much,” I asked.

“Exactly.  It’s like your mock trials, why would I care if someone was a judge or a prosecutor, it kinda just feels like an unnecessary label, doesn’t it?” he said.

I laughed at the silly train of thought.  But, he had a few good points, I honestly didn’t care what his position was, and knowing it wouldn’t have made me think any more or less of him. 

“How’s your mock trial prep?” he asked.

“It’s going well,” I said.

“That’s all I get?” he said.

“Well, what else am I to say?  It’s just busy work.  Besides, it’s been driving me crazy lately.”

“How so?” he asked.

“If you want to present a good case, you have to do a lot of research.  You have to check precedent cases, and gather any evidence you can
in order to
defend your client.  I think I’m in a good position, but there’s
really
not much to tell.”

He sat there a moment in thought.  It seemed that he liked to try to pick his words rather than just blurt out anything.  It was different from when I first met
him; his
demeanor seemed almost professional today; as though he were an expert chess player looking to gain the upper hand on his opponent.

“Why do you do it?” he asked. 

He had already asked me this question before, or some version of it.  I wanted to give him the same answer as it still seemed relevant, but I didn’t for some reason.

“It’s expected
of me,” I replied.

“They expect you to be on the mock trial team?” he asked.

“No, not that,” I said. 

I didn’t
really
know what I wanted to say.  I
was caught
in this odd moment of
trying,
to be honest with not only
myself
but with another person. 

“My parents always wanted me to get ahead in life.  They wanted me to be the best I could be.  I’d always do my homework with them, and they would make sure it was right.  I’d exercise and eat right, I’d make friends with people my parents would approve of, and I didn’t do anything crazy.

“I’m expected to be smart.  I’m
expected
to get good grades and have
a nice
job in a boring office, with
a boring
husband.  I don’t know what I
really
want;
I
don’t know whether that’s my parents in my ear or if it
really
is me that wants those things,” I tried to explain.

He nodded and sipped more of his beer.  For a minute he didn’t say anything, he just sat there rubbing the scruff under his chin.  I started feeling embarrassed for saying something like that so soon.  Even Albert didn’t hear that little piece
about
me.

“My parents were barely there,” he started, “I’d come home and be alone from the moment I got there until almost
bed time
.  But, my dad would always come in and read me a bedtime story to put me to sleep.  Sure, I’d grown out of it eventually, but even today I still miss it.  I spent every waking minute trying to make time go faster, so I joined any afterschool events I could.  Football was the first one that clicked.