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I blink, looking over to Dante. At some point mid-brooding, we found a booth and sat. Truth be told, I barely noticed.
I shrug. “Yeah. Tired. Practice kinda sucked.”
Dante looks at me like he doesn’t really believe me. Then he shrugs, too. “Yeah, Coach is hella fucking annoying lately,” he complains. “If he gets on me about overloading the forecheck against Detroit one more time, I swear to God I’m gonna rip his toupee right off.”
This launches Dante and Marcus into an echo chamber of bitching. I tune out. In theory, I should be invested in this conversation. Our next game is against the Detroit Torque, and those bastards knocked us out of the playoffs last year. I should want revenge. I do want revenge.
But compared to the thoughts of Olivia’s parted thighs consuming my brain capacity, it barely even registers.
I grimace and swirl my untouched beer in my glass. Not even drowning in booze feels appealing tonight.
“Yo, Dalton, where you at, man? We’re trying to get your opinion here!”
I look up from my drink. Both Dante and Marcus are staring at me, expectation written all over their faces.
I got nothing for them.
“Coach is gonna do whatever Coach is gonna do. If we lose, he’ll know he was an idiot.”
They exchange a look. “Yeah… okay…” Dante says slowly. “But we don’t need to let it get to that point, am I right? It’s Detroit, dude. You hate those guys. We all hate those guys.”
I take a drink of my beer. It tastes like shit. “I dunno what to tell you, Marc.”
They’re both quiet for a beat before Marcus shakes his head. “Nah. Nah.” He leans in. “What’s got you all docile and shit, dude? You never miss a chance to talk about how annoyed you are with Coach. Something’s got you all…” Marcus waves his hands vaguely at me. “Bent up.”
Dante’s eyes gleam. “Is it a chick?”
Neither of them know about Olivia, because neither of them know about Violet. And since the last thing I want is to turn this into a therapy session, I decide not to fill them in.
“I don’t get bent up over women,” I say flippantly. “It’s my job to do the bending.”
Dante grins and playfully punches me in the shoulder. “Oooh, how smooth. I ain’t buyin’ it, though. You got a little sweetie stored away somewhere that ain’t being so sweet, don’t ya?”
Any other day, I’d entertain this. Play it cool. Put on that playboy charm I’m known for.
Tonight, I don’t have the patience or the fucks to give.
“Drop it, Dante. Or fuck off.”
Dante pulls away, stunned by the unwarranted bite in my voice. I’ll feel the guilt later. Maybe I’ll apologize. For now, though, I feel justified.
He goes to speak, but Marcus butts in, probably to stop the argument all three of us know is about to explode.
“Well, you know who is having woman problems? This guy.” He leans on the table, a dramatic look in his eyes. “Clarissa is back on that ‘put a ring on it’ shit again. Can you believe it? We’ve been dating for like a year and a half, and half that time, she’s been hounding me about getting ‘more serious.’ Woman, you live in my house! How is that not serious? I pay all her bills.”
Dante rolls his eyes, effectively distracted. “Well, that was your first fuck-up: paying all her bills. Why the hell would you do that if you’re not married?”
“I like her,” Marcus answers simply. “And maybe, like, I love her. I’m not trying to rush marriage or anything. But she’s given me this ultimatum. If I haven’t proposed by the end of the season, we’re done, allegedly.” He makes a cutting motion across his throat with his hand.
I roll my eyes. “Lots of women are like that. Get with you, then pull some shit that throws your whole life out of whack even if you never agreed to it in the first place. They’ll go from just being there for a fuck to rolling out kids and marriage like it’s nothing at all.”
Am I projecting because of my own situation? Yes. Do I care? No. I can just apply all the frustration that I feel over Violet’s Mystery Mother onto Marcus’s Clarissa. God knows I haven’t found any other outlet for it.
He screws up his face. “What do you mean by that?”
I shrug. “I just mean that you better watch out. You probably shouldn’t have fucked around with someone like that. All she’s asking for is marriage right now. But what if her demands get bigger and bigger? You’re already paying all her bills. From where I’m sitting, she’s just waiting for the right opportunity to fuck you over and run away with a payout, my dude.”
Marcus looks suddenly haunted. Dante puts a friendly hand on his shoulder.
