“We want you to come and do some videos for us. We’re soccer players. For the Boston Buzzards,” Brandon adds helpfully.
“I know who you are, Brandon Nix. I also know your temper probably cost the Buzzards the semifinal game. If you hadn’t pulled that penalty in the box, or if you had at least made your kick during the shootout, the year could have ended quite differently for your team.”
His mouth opens and closes. Landon takes this opportunity to guffaw at his teammate’s expense. Okay, probably not the nicest thing to say in the world, but I’m out of patience with cocky footballers.
“Why should I help you out?” I fold my arms over my chest and lean against the doorway as if I don’t have a care in the world.
“We want to help you out. There’s this thing. This expo. And there’s a signing, with like, lots of big names. It’s to benefit youth sports programs in impoverished neighborhoods. Don’t you think all kids should get to play sports, even if their parents can’t afford the fancy leagues?” Landon Stubbs tells me.
I know the sacrifices my own parents made to get me to D1 status. There are a lot of kids who might have that talent but not the means. “Of course I do.”
“So we think you should come with us and do a series of ClikClak videos,” Landon adds.
“Maybe even live ones to get people to come down and raise more money,” Brandon chimes in. “Think of all the poor kids with no dads who need our help.”
God, he’s a PR disaster in the making.
“Can’t I just give you a donation?” Not that I have any money to spare, but if it gets these guys out of my doorway, it’ll be money well spent.
“No, we need you,” Landon says. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was a hint of desperation in his voice.
“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have two men begging me like this.” Carlos rests his head on my shoulder. “Un un un. The things fantasies are made of.”
“You can have them both. I’m all done with soccer players.” I nudge him off me and turn to go back inside.
“Wait!” Brandon’s hand shoots out, grabbing my upper arm.
I look from his hand to his face. “You have about two seconds to take your paws off me before I drop-kick your teeth in,” I say in a low voice.
He pulls his hand back as if it were on fire. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Landon jumps in. “What this idiot is trying to say is will you please come to the event with us? It’s an opportunity for you that you can’t pass up. Trust me.” There’s no doubt about it. He’s desperate.
Why?
Which is what I ask them.
“Listen—at the risk of getting my teeth kicked in—I think you need to take a leap of faith and come with us. You know me. I’m an asshole, but I’m an honest asshole. This is going to be good for you. And if it’s not, I promise you an exclusive story on me, and you can make me look as bad as you want. I won’t complain.”
Oh, that’s tempting. Very tempting. He’s got viral disaster written all over him.
“Bring your friend, if you don’t trust us. I swear, we’re safe,” Landon offers, tipping his head toward Carlos. I’m pretty sure Carlos would rather vote for Donald Trump than go to a sporting event. However, he must see something he likes because he’s agreeing.
“It could be fun.”
I look at my traitorous roommate. “I see how it is. Fine. I’ll go.”
“Do you want to fix your face and stuff?” Brandon asks. “You might want to.”
“Damn, bro. Why you gotta be brutal? I think what he means is that you look like you’ve been working out, and do you need a minute or two to freshen up?”
I haven’t been working out. I’ve been packing, but the details aren’t important. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum have informed me that I look like crap, so I do as suggested and brush my hair and throw some makeup on.
Now, let’s see what’s so important.
