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14
Taylor
I was stretched out on the couch, watching SportsCenter. Eric didn’t have a television at his place, so I was forced to watch it on my iPad.
I hadn’t gotten a chance to watch the game, but the highlights were good. The Stallions played well, and quarterback Dallas Lockett was able to pick apart the defense by focusing on his wide receivers. There weren’t any highlights involving Brody, but they did mention him at the end of the segment.
“Fantasy football owners who started Brody Carter at the Tight End position will be disappointed in his performance: two receptions for eleven yards.” A clip played, showing one of Brody’s two catches. He got up, tossed the ball to the ref, and jogged back to the huddle. “We’re not sure if this is two bad performances to start the season, or if it’s indicative of a longer trend for the former pro-bowler, but so far, Carter hasn’t lived up to expectations.”
“ESPN highlights?” Eric asked over my shoulder. “What have you done with my girlfriend?”
I turned and smiled at him. “I like to stay informed. I don’t just want to be the ditsy cheerleader on the sideline who has no idea what’s going on in the game.”
“It’ll rot your brain,” he muttered.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
As soon as he was gone, I rewound the SportsCenter stream and watched the lone video of Brody again. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. When he visited my classroom last week, I was pretty sure he was going to ask me out. He was so close.
Then Eric showed up to take me to lunch.
I shook my head. Eric. I was with him. We were a good match. We shared lots of interests, and he made me happy.
But when I saw Brody decked out in his uniform, with sinfully-tight pants and arm muscles bulging, I couldn’t shake this feeling…
Eric and I had trivia after work on Tuesday. We met for dinner at a salad bar near campus, then walked to the Wild Rover Bar. We were usually joined by two other professors from the Paleontology department, but one of them was out sick, so it was just the three of us.
The bar had a pretty good selection of wine, but it wasn’t good enough for Eric, so he brought his own bottle of wine from home. We ordered a cheese plate, collected our trivia tablet, and chatted about our classes this semester. Professor McHolmes, our third teammate, was unhappy with the number of students enrolled in his classes.
A few minutes before trivia began, Brody showed up.
And he wasn’t alone.
Eric suddenly jerked in his chair. “Oh my God. He’s here.”
“Who?” asked Professor McHolmes.
“Him. The footballer! He was wearing that same hoodie when I saw him on campus.”
Brody didn’t have his hood up, but he was wearing a baseball cap low over his brow. Based on his build, and the way he carried himself, it was unmistakably him. I found myself smiling as I waved him over to our table.
“Taylor!” squealed Isabella, as if we were old friends who went way back. “When Brody told me about trivia night, I was so excited.”
“It’s great to see you too,” I said. You’re a lot friendlier to me here than you were at the last cheerleading practice.
“Hey, T-Foxy.” Brody started to raise his arms like he was going to hug me, so I did the same. Then we had an awkward moment where neither of us knew whether or not to hug. Finally, Brody stuck his hand out and fist-bumped me instead, grinning widely at me.
“This is Lamar McHolmes,” I introduced, “and Eric Masters.”
“Professor Masters,” Eric clarified, shaking hands with the two newcomers. “Brady, I’m so glad you decided to join us.”
“Brody,” he clarified. “Brady’s a much better football player than me, though I’m not too shabby.”
Professor McHolmes laughed at that. After a moment, Eric joined him, although it was more forced.
“They won’t be able to stop us with you on our team,” Eric said.
I glanced sideways at him. He was almost being sarcastic, but not quite.
