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1
Brady
“Dude, I think Coach was trying to kill us today.”Walking into Cooper Sinclair’s house, I kick my Nikes off in the mudroom and drop my blue and gold gym bag to the floor. With two weeks to go before senior year starts, our football team has two-a-days, one practice from seven ‘til ten, then a second practice from three ‘til six. I don’t care how much time you spent in the weight room over the summer or how many miles you ran around town in the mornings, these days blow.
Taking a seat at one of the high backed, black bar stools that line the light wood island in the kitchen, I lean back and thank God for whoever invented air conditioning. The cool air against my still damp hair is doing more for the throbbing in my head than any ibuprofen ever could. The heat and humidity of August in Philadelphia are no joke, and I’m pretty sure it’s Coach Maxwell’s goal to make sure everyone pukes at least once a day, every day.
It’s Thursday night, and we only have one more day left of Hell this week. Next week’s schedule is slammed, with four days of practice and a scheduled scrimmage. Then, it’s back to school following the Labor Day weekend.
I am exhausted. My muscles have been pushed to the limit, and my brain feels like it can’t take in any more information, but I don’t say any of that to my teammate, Cooper. I barely manage to catch the ice-cold bottle of water he throws my way.
Coop transferred in from California halfway through last year, right after his dad got the job as Philly’s new professional football coach. This guy never seems to have a care in the world. “Stop fucking bitching. We’ve got two weeks left until the first game of the season. That’s two more weeks of beer and bitches before we have to get serious for the semester. We are the Kings of Kroydon Hills Prep. Enjoy it.” He doesn’t realize that, as the quarterback, it’s practically my job to be always stressed.
Coop’s still riding the high of Coach announcing today that the starting tight end position will be his to lose this season. He earned it, and now he’s gotta keep it. The announcement pissed off more than one upperclassman who thought it should have been theirs after last season’s starting tight end graduated. “You sound like a fucking freshman, Coop.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me, oh wise quarterback?”
“Oh, wise Captain is more like it, shit head. You’ve gotta get serious at some point.”
“And you’ve got to lighten up, QB. Live a little.”
The door slams open as Sebastian and Murphy let themselves into the house. We can hear them dropping their bags and adding their shoes to the growing pile by the mudroom door. Aiden Murphy’s navy-blue Kroydon Prep hat is sitting backward on his ginger head. He’s a few inches shorter than me, Coop and Sebastian… maybe 6’2”. What he lacks in height, he makes up for in bulk. Murph’s freakishly strong. He likes to say he could bench press my little sister’s Fiat. He’s also one of the country's best linebackers, and he wants everyone to know it. “You know QB doesn’t know how to lighten up.”
He also has a big mouth. “What was taking you assholes so long?”
Sebastian Beneventi is Murph’s opposite in every way. Bash is an intimidating dude. He’s the tallest of the four of us, standing at 6’6”. He’s the quiet one compared to Murphy’s loudmouth. Murphy, Bash, and I have bonded over the years we’ve lived in this town. We all come from very different, very powerful families. Families like ours tend to run at two ends of the parenting spectrum. They are overly involved in their kid’s lives or not involved at all. Because we all fall into the latter category, we formed our own sort of brotherhood. Coop slid right in with us when he moved to town.
Before either of them can answer me, a blonde goddess enters the kitchen. She’s tiny. I’m used to short. When you’re 6’4”, everyone seems short. But this girl looks like Tinker Bell. She has golden blonde hair tied up in one of those messy buns that my sister always wears, skintight black leggings are barely covering the most perfectly shaped thighs, and I’m betting are doing a lousy job of hiding a tight little ass.
An ass that I notice Murphy is currently checking out.
A green Notre Dame t-shirt is hanging off one tanned shoulder, hinting that those tits, tits that I wish I had a better view of, are bare under there. But her eyes are what are drawing me in; they are the lightest blue I’ve ever seen. They look like a perfect summer sky and are sparkling with unshed tears while she looks at Coop.
Cooper drops his bottle, practically charging for this girl. Picking her up off of the ground, he spins her around. “Natalie! You told me you weren’t flying in until this weekend.” When he places her back down on her feet, I swear to God, she blushes the prettiest pink and leans into him like she’s going to cry.
“I missed you so much.” Sniffling, she pulls back after a minute, her face pink and her eyes watery. “I know you are busy with football camp, and Dad is in the middle of preseason right now, so I figured this was the easiest way. The ballet intensive I took this summer ended last week, and Mom and her new boyfriend were talking about flying to Italy, so I thought, why wait? It wasn’t like it was even a long Uber ride from the airport.” She hugs him again. “Seriously, Coop. It wasn’t a big deal. I just wanted to get here. It’s been six months since I’ve seen you and Dad. I didn’t want to wait anymore. I missed you.”
Placing his arm around his sister’s shoulders, Cooper squeezes her to him. “I missed you too, little sister.”
Smirking, she tries to push him away. “Hey. I may be smaller, but I’m three minutes older, asshat. Take the little sister stuff and shove it.”
Murphy jumps in then. “So, this is the infamous Natalie? Hate to break it to you, man, but this girl is way better looking than you are. I thought twins were supposed to look the same?”
Bash smacks the back of Murphy’s head. “Identical twins look the same. Same sex. Two girls. Two guys. Fraternal twins don’t. Try paying attention in biology this year.”
Murphy looks pissed. “Yeah, well, we can’t all have photographic memories.”
Up ‘til now, I was a fly on the wall just taking it all in, but when this girl turns, looks up at me, and smiles, every ounce of will power I have starts to snap like strings on a guitar.
I am so screwed.
“Guys, this is my sister Nattie. Stop looking at her like that, Murphy. She is off-limits. Lay a hand on her, and I’ll break every finger.” The grin he gives us all is a little evil and a little serious.
Damn.
“Oh my God, Cooper.” This little pixie spins herself out of her brother’s grip. Placing both hands on her hips, she glares at Cooper. “The fact that you, the biggest man whore I know, is saying anyone is off-limits is incredibly hypocritical. Tell me, little brother, how many girls have you hooked up with this summer?” When he doesn’t answer her right away, she crosses her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows, as if to say,I’m waiting.
“Can the big, strong, jock count that high?” She starts laughing, and the sound is throaty and sexy, not at all what I was expecting to hear.
