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Murphy
Late Monday afternoon, the locker room is full of football players all trying to get the hell out of here, me included. The showers are running, the voices are loud, and the rank smell of body odor clings to the air. This is when the guys decide it’s time to give me all the shit I was expecting yesterday morning...before Train Wreck inadvertently saved me from the interrogation.
I’m bending down to tie my sneaker when Brady slams my locker shut behind me. “So, Murph, you and Sabrina were looking awful cozy yesterday.”
Standing to my full height, I look at one of my best friends. He’s got me by two inches, but I’ve put on weight since last year, and I’ve probably got him by a good thirty pounds of muscle. “Cozy? Really, QB? Cozy? I think Nattie’s rubbing off on you. Who the hell says ‘cozy’?”
Bash slings his KU gym bag over his shoulder and turns to us, smiling. “What our fearless leader is trying to say but failing at miserably...” he looks to Brady and chimes in, “because yeah, you sound like a chick. Anyway, should we be expecting Sabrina for breakfast from now on?”
“Jesus. You both sound like chicks.” I grab my own bag and cell phone off the bench when a large hand comes down on my shoulder.
Jamie moves into our group. “What QB and Pretty Boy are trying to ask is, is she yours?”
I look at Jamie, annoyed as hell, because...yeah. Pretty sure we had this conversation.
He’s giving me a look that lets me know how I answer this question matters.
Damn. I stand tall and look at my captain. “You already fucking know the answer to that.”
Bash takes an overly dramatic step backward. “Murph, man, you’re killing me here. You talked to this sasquatch but not your brothers?” He looks like it’s physically hurting him to not let his laughter out.
These fuckers. I’ll get them all back.
“Fuck off, Pretty Boy. He got advice from the only one here who knows what he’s talking about.” Jamie crosses his arms over his chest and stares Bash down.
Turning to Jamie, Brady argues, “Dude, your girl lives ten states away. Mine sleeps in my bed every night.”
Jamie shakes his head and looks at Brady and Bash as if they were toddlers throwing temper tantrums. “Uh-huh. Talk to me when it’s been six years, QB. Then we’ll compare. Charlotte’s flying in Thursday night since we have the weekend off. And the engagement ring she’ll be wearing by the time she flies home is waiting to be picked up at the store today. Come find me when you get to that point.”
Jamie’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Ignore Tweedledum and Tweedledee over here. You already told me she was yours, man. Now claim her.”
Having expelled his wisdom for the day, Jamie starts to walk away with Bash and Brady staring after him as if Yoda himself just spoke, then yells, “Come on, Murph. You’re riding shotgun.”
I let the guys know not to wait for me. “I told Jamie I’d go with him to get the ring, then I’m heading to my mom’s. I’ll see you at the house later.”
As I’m walking away, I hear Brady’s voice loud and clear above all the other noise. “You should be safe tonight, man. Nattie’s dad should still be at practice. No walking in on anything.” Laughter bounces off the locker room walls, and I give them the finger as I walk away.
I wonder if Nat can teach me how to make a glitter bomb?
* * *
Jamie’s truck is older than the two of us combined. It’s a red 1980 Chevy Silverado. He’s taken great care of it, but we all like to bust his balls that it’s on its last legs. I’m pretty sure he was conceived in this thing. It was his dad’s before he got his license, and his parents gifted it to him. The heat is kicking, so I crack my window. “Damn, man. Do you ever take your gym bag out of here? It smells like a dirty jockstrap.”
Jamie laughs. “Listen up, freshman. When your balls finally drop, you’ll start to smell like a man. Come talk to me when that happens.”
“Fuck you. I’ve had no complaints about my balls. Thank you very much.”
“Speaking of which, tell me what’s going on with you and the senator’s daughter. Why don’t your friends know she matters? You guys are all up in each other’s business. If QB’s girl didn’t live with you, I’d think you were all in a relationship with each other.”
“Yeah well, believe it or not, we don’t braid each other’s hair and talk about our feelings every night, asshole.”
“Whatever. Just remember I was the one who told you to lock that shit down. If you care about her, which you do, then stop being a pussy and do something about it before someone else comes along.”
“Dude. You people all need to stay in your own lanes and let me figure my own shit out.”
“It’s been figured, freshman. Now act.”
I hate that he’s right. “Yes, Yoda.”
