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“Not interested.” Cazzie gave me a final look—something close to pity—and then walked away.
“Hey!” called Mike, one of the linemen. “You never said what you’d want if you won.”
Cazzie looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Oh, I got what I wanted.” Then she picked up her workout bag and disappeared through the door.
Double-D frowned at Kincaid. “Why would she say no? My sister’s good looking, right?”
“Bro, I’ve never met your sister.”
“Let me show you a picture…”
The guys teased me throughout my workout. It was good natured, the kind of teasing my teammates had always done ever since I was in junior high, but it still stung. Especially since I was a rookie trying to prove myself.
After showering, I slipped out the side door and took an Uber home by myself. It was a petty thing to do, but it gave me a sense of control over the situation. My satisfaction didn’t last long, though. Ten minutes after I got home, Cazzie came walking through the door.
“How’d you get a key?” I asked.
“I had a copy made this morning. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back at the end of the week.” She dropped her workout bag. She was wearing her suit again, which concealed her feminine frame, but I couldn’t get the image of her body out of my head now. That only deepened my humiliation. “I’m sorry about what happened back there, Luke.”
“Are you?” I replied. “If you’re sorry, then why’d you challenge me to a fight at all?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Youwere the one who boasted that you could take me down with one arm tied behind your back.”
“I was just shooting the shit with my teammates,” I replied. “We didn’t mean anything by it.”
She smiled sweetly. “Then I didn’t mean anything by knocking you on your back. Maybe you’ll appreciate having me assigned to you, now.”
The two of us didn’t talk for the rest of the night, except when I took her dinner order before having take-out delivered. We didn’t speak the next morning, either. When I walked into the parking garage to take my own car rather than an Uber, she only smiled.
She continued using the Stallions workout equipment. When I complained to the head physical trainer about it, he gave me a confused look. “There are fifty treadmills in there. She’s not hurting anything.”
On the third night, I went out to a bar to watch the Phillies game. She sat next to me, ordered a burger, and nursed a single beer for half an hour. “I didn’t realize I’d be paying for all of your meals,” I grumbled after a while.
“Keep your receipts,” she replied snarkily. “Maybe the team will reimburse you.”
Before I could think of a good comeback, Cazzie was jumping off her bar stool and whirling around. “Back up a step, pal,” she warned, hand extended out in front of her. I twisted to see who she was talking to. A guy in a blue Stallions hoodie stopped in his tracks, his cell phone in a hand.
“I just…” He looked at me. “You’re Luke August, right? Oh man, itisyou. I went to Penn State, class of 2008. Can I get a selfie with you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cazzie said.
I got off my stool and put an arm around the guy. “Don’t mind her. She’s got a stick up her ass, but Ilovefans.”
“Thanks, Luke!” he said, extending the phone to take the selfie. “We owe you for that National Championship. I loved the way you took a knee to run the clock out, rather than grabbing the easy touchdown. I was totally stoked when the Stallions drafted you.”
“Thanks, buddy,” I replied. “Hopefully I can help the Stallions get another ring, too.”
Cazzie remained standing until the fan had walked away. I returned to my stool and said, “Jesus, you’re jumpier than I am. You acted like he had a knife.”
“He was walking toward you with purpose,” she replied. “I’ve got to treat everyone as a potential threat.”
“I don’t mind you trying to do your job,” I said. “But you don’t need to be a fucking asshole to the fans who just want a selfie.”
Cazzie slowly returned to her stool and stared into her beer. She didn’t say another word to me the rest of the night.
Our silent standoff continued into the week. She might as well have been my shadow for all the noise she made throughout the day. What made it worse was that I knew it was my fault. I had made fun of her in front of my teammates. In front ofher. I had underestimated her, and now it was biting me in the ass.
But underneath it all, I was still unsure about my safety. Whether I should keep jumping at my own shadows, or brush off last week’s attack as a failed mugging. That uncertainty ate at me whenever I wasn’t at practice.
