Page 48 of Snap

"Seems like you need a new nickname," Pinky said. He stopped a couple of feet away. As usual, Walker, Stringer and Fridge were arrayed behind him.

"You think so?" If this was high school, I'd expect them to drag me out of the locker room and beat the shit out of me. This wasn't high school, this was the locker room at Chillers Stadium, in Newcastle, on game night. An away game, which was always more difficult than playing on home turf.

"Yeah," Pinky said. "How about…" He thought for a moment. "Octopus. You know what they say about them. They have eight hands." He laughed like he said something absolutely hilarious.

His friends laughed too.

"Fuck off." I didn't bother to explain the truth to them. If they actually listened, they wouldn't believe me. And frankly, I didn’t give a shit what they thought anyway.

"Is that what you said to her?" Walker asked. "Or was it yes, yes, yes!"

I rolled my eyes. "Just because you guys can't get laid."

"Oh, we have no trouble getting laid," Stringer said with a smug smile. "We just don't need to do it in public."

"No one needs to know what you guys are doing with each other," Chase said as he approached, a towel over his shoulder. "That's no one's business but yours."

Pinky looked like he was ready to punch Chase in the face.

"You mother fucking —"

Fridge, a man so big he dwarfed most of us, and so blonde he could be an albino, pressed the back of his hand to Pinky's chest.

"Leave it alone," he said in a rumble. "Chase is just jealous. Now he’s tied down, he can't have fun like the rest of us."

"If you don't think I'm having fun," Chase said cheerfully, "then you don't know what you're missing. Not that any woman would want to tie themselves down to any of you anyway."

"Keep telling yourself that," Fridge said. "Maybe you'll believe it someday." He gave Pinky a shove and the four of them walked away.

"Don't worry about them," Chase said. "They're just trying to compensate for tiny, little penises."

I tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. "Thanks. But I can take care of myself."

Chase held up a hand. "Sorry. I just figured they could use a little dose of reality."

I sighed and went back to bandaging my hands. "I know. I wish I grabbed that phone and shoved it down Harvey Danbury's throat."

"You would have to get in line to do anything to him," Chase said. "I don't know how the shit he does is legal. It's harassment at best, and absolute bullshit at worst."

"Yeah, that just about sums it up." I got to my feet and rolled my shoulders.

"Have you heard from Rubie?" he asked. "Or her father?"

I shook my head. "I keep waiting for someone to come and find me and take me to his office. Or run me over when I cross the road." I wasn't sure which one of those would be worse.

"It's almost game time." Chase glanced at the clock on the wall. "If he was going to do it today, he would have done it already." After a beat, he added, "It's a good thing you aren't crossing a road between here and the field."

"Ha ha," I said humourlessly. "It's not too late for him or Rubie to slip something into my drink."

"Neither of them would do that," Chase said. "Bam on the other hand…"

"He would absolutely do that," I agreed. "Probably a laxative."

We started walking towards the doorway which led out onto the field. Usually I'd be full of excitement. The roar of the crowd ringing in my ears, the adrenaline, the anticipation. I lived for days like this.

Today, I bet way too many people in the crowd had seen that photo. Some would probably think I was some kind of hero. Someone exciting they could try their luck with, like—what was her name? Madisin. Like she had.

The rest— Football was supposed to be something people of all ages could watch. Players were supposed to be role models children could look up to. Those were the people I was worried about.

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