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Now, normally, we had more class than this. However, Lodi United liked to talk a lot of shit, so we were perfectly comfortable talking shit back whenever we kicked their ass. They were bad losers, so that made us bad winners. I only grinned when Carlo Muscio clapped me on the back, repeating the same thing that Alonzo had yelled.
With the stadium rocking with our win, we all made our way back to the locker room, our after-game interviews and autograph signing something that used to not bother me before. Before Lux Leland had come into my life, I had easily gotten swept up in the after-game fervor. I’d been happy to talk to reporters and sign autographs. I’d been perfectly fine with partying until the sun came up the next day.
Now, not so much.
After Coach Madison gave us his victory speech, everyone went about their business while I grabbed my phone from my locker, then slipped outside into the hallway. The locker room noise was too loud to have a decent conversation.
Surprisingly, Lux answered her phone. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, doing my best not to laugh at the spitfire.
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” she retorted.
“I am,” I insisted. “I got caught up in the moment and didn’t realize how that would put you in the spotlight.”
“You’re lying,” she accused. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Because we were both partially right, I said, “Go to dinner with me.”
“What?” she asked, her voice filled with confusion.
“Let me pick you up after the post-game interviews and take you to dinner,” I elaborated.
“No,” she answered, which I’d been expecting.
“C’mon, Lux,” I drawled out. “We need to be a united front during all this shit.”
“It’s expected that you’d celebrate with your teammates, Titan,” she replied.
“Before the world knew that I had a girlfriend, yeah,” I argued. “Not now.”
“Fake girlfriend,”she reiterated.
“Look, by now, everyone knows that you left the game-”
“No shit,” she snapped. “We’re fucking trending again.”
“Go to dinner with me, so that everyone can see that we’re fine,” I told her. “Everyone needs to see that we’re okay.”
“I hate you,” she said, and it was hard not to believe her with the conviction in her voice.
“I’ll pick you up after I’m done here.”
“This is not okay, Titan.”
“Baby-”
“And quit calling me that,” she griped. “We’re not really dating.”
“We’re really dating,” I informed her. “Get used to it.”
Silence.
Finally, she asked, “Have you taken one too many balls to the head? Are you crazy?”
“Be ready,” I said, ignoring her question. “Dress nice.”
“I am not dressingnice,”she argued, and I’d never come across someone so combative.
