Page 38 of Trick Play

Unlike the football house, this wasn’t a frat. It was the house Shawn’s parents bought as an investment so he could live here with some of his teammates. It had five bedrooms, including the small one off the media room in the basement, and its address wasn’t common knowledge.

It was close enough to walk to campus, but settled in the middle of a neighborhood that wouldn’t turn a blind eye to a party like those around the frat houses were forced to. This was a sanctuary for Shawn and the rest of us who wanted a break from being watched all the time.

“Hey,” Conner, a power forward with jet black hair, called from the floor in front of the TV. He waved his remote in greeting, making the other three turn and notice me.

“Want to play?” Dominique, a wide receiver on the football team, asked.

“Nah, I’m okay to watch for a bit.” I sat next to Shawn who looked me over but didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want anything?” Ty, the team’s best point guard, stood and stretched.

“Just grab a couple of waters from the fridge,” Shawn suggested without taking his eyes off the screen.

Ty looked at me. “Do you need a hand?”

“Nah, I got it.” He took the stairs two at a time. I listened to his heavy steps, mapping his route through to the kitchen, the fridge, then back. He tossed a bottle to each of us before taking his remote and joining the game.

They called directions to each other every few minutes, but other than that, it was silent. Perfect. I could turn off my brain, forget about the millions of things I should be worried about, and simply watch.

I was so relaxed I didn’t even notice as more guys joined us. I recognized most of them after they said hey, then red cups were passed around. I drank the bitter liquid, not caring what it contained, and sank farther into the plush couch.

It was nice.

I didn’t have to talk or even think before my cup was refilled. Quiet conversation floated around me. Shawn offered to let me play, but I shook my head, too content to have to think.

Chapter 13

Kennedy

I hurt Whit. I knew it before I ended the call with him.

Ethan heard enough to know what the conversation was about. I should have stopped there. Why did I have to unload on him? I invited him over because I could see the pain and struggle in his eyes, so why did I have to add to it? Reliving the pain of freshman year did nothing but cause more hurt. It didn’t make me feel better, and it didn’t change anything, so why?

Could I really be so cruel that I wanted to make him hurt as I had? Even when I knew he already was?

What was wrong with me?

This wasn’t a tit-for-tat, childish game. This was our real life. We were adults, but I was acting petty and I didn’t like it.

I thought I was a better person, but my actions proved otherwise.

He had practice, but it would be over now. He had tutoring after, but I wanted to call him. I needed to know he was okay.

That struck me.

I really did need to know. I wouldn’t be able to relax until I saw him or at least spoke to him. Two unanswered texts, and I was pacing my living room.

I knew his dorm building but not his room number, and I didn’t have any of his friends’ numbers to call.

I drummed my thumbs on my phone screen, trying to force inspiration to come.

Haley. I had her number—well, her high school number. I wasn’t sure if she’d changed it, but it was worth a shot.

On the third ring, she answered. “Hello?”

“Haley?”

“Yes, who’s this?” She sounded hesitant.