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“Of what?” he snorts. “You? Sorry to disappoint, Wentworth, but not everybody wants to be you.”
I grit my teeth, trying to keep my cool. It won’t do me any good if I jump across the table and punch the smug bastard in the face. “They just want to play, like me,” I mutter, taking a swig of my beer.
The silence that settles over the table is almost deafening. But seriously, I’ve had it with him and his snark. He might think he’s the top dog because he’s the guy who got to start his freshman year, but the only reason that happened was because I was out for the season. That’s all. He isn’t the shit he thinks he is.
A leg kicks me under the table. I look away, only to find Nixon glaring at me, so I glare right back.
“Okay, boys, we’re not here to talk shit about each other,” he gives me a pointed look before doing the same with Sullivan. “Tonight is about talking strategy.”
“I thought we were here for team bonding,” somebody throws from down the table.
“That too, but mostly to strategize. You can think about chicks after we’ve won our first game of the season. Or better yet, leave the chicks out of your heads untilafterthe season is done. We don’t need all the girl drama when we’re having the most important season of our lives.”
Somebody coughs. “Says a married man.”
Nixon looks around the table, meeting the eyes of every player sitting there, but whoever said it smartly keeps his mouth shut.
“As I was saying,” Nixon says slowly. “On Saturday, we play against Columbia. Last season we lost to two teams, and they’re one of them, so we have to make sure to wipe the floor with them. Thankfully,” he slaps me on the shoulder, “this dumbass here is finally cleared to play because we’ll need all the seasoned players we can get.”
Hurt flashes on Sullivan’s face, but he schools his features immediately.
I lift my brow at him.Not so smug any longer, are we?
Sullivan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say a word.
“I know this is a reconstructive year,” Nixon continues, his eyes taking in every player sitting around the table, “and we’re still learning how to mesh together, but there are some really talented people here, and I have faith that we can bring the title back home once again. So work hard, keep your head straight, and eyes on the end game.”
A chant of Ravens spreads through the group, and the rest of the people seated in the bar soon join in.
I grab my beer, taking a pull before facing Nixon. “You sound just like him.”
“Just like who?” he asks, looking at me confused.
“Coach. Who else?”
“I guess it comes with banging the coach’s daughter,” Phillip, our running back, says.
Nixon slaps him over the head. “She’s not just the coach’s daughter. She’s also my wife, so you better watch your mouth.”
Phillip shrugs. “Hey, I’m just saying.”
“Well, phrase it better. Besides, this doesn’t have shit to do with Coach but with my role as a team captain.”
“Who knows? Maybe one day, when you hang your cleats up for good, you’ll come back and continue the tradition. Keep it in the family and all.”
“Well, evenifthat does happen, you assholes won’t be around to witness it one way or the other.” Nixon shakes his head. “Can we get back to the topic we came here to discuss?”
After a few more jabs at Nixon, the conversation thankfully returns to our first game and the opponents we’ll play this season. I try to keep my attention on the conversation, but eventually, my gaze wanders off and finds its way back to the bar.
There is a jab of disappointment mixing with relief when I don’t find Jade there. I start to turn back around when I see her. She’s standing at one of the high tables along with Grace and her boyfriend, and what looks to be half the basketball team huddled around.
A tall dude with wild, curly hair leans down and whispers something in Jade’s ear that makes her laugh. Her body brushes against the guy as she whispers something back.
A foot taps mine under the table, drawing my attention. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “Just tired.”
“You’ve been working a lot since you were cleared.”
