Page 63 of Save the Game

Laughing, I pull the phone out of his hands, open up the camera and flip it around. “Come here,” I say, tugging him to my side and snapping a picture of us before he can even think to get embarrassed.

He looks at it, expression inscrutable, as he really does set it as his background photo. Tapping his thigh, I nod toward his phone. “Send that to me.”

It’s not a picture that’s going to be winning any awards; our faces are smushed together, and my eyes are crinkled from how wide I’m smiling. Max is halfway between a neutral expression and a grin, copper hair and golden eyes bright. It’s our first picture together, I realize. Such a simple thing, and yet my throat feels a little tight when I think about it. You’re in deep now, Luke. There will be no coming back from Max.

“Here,” Max says, and I jolt when he presses an icepack to my ribs. “You need to stay on top of your icing.”

“Where did you even get that?”

He laughs, gesturing over the side of the bed. “I brought a couple in when you got here. Ice for five minutes and then we’ll put more Arnica on it. After that, maybe we’ll fool around a bit, if you’re a well-behaved patient.”

“Mm, want to play doctor?” I suggest, and he puts a palm in my face, shoving me playfully.

“God, you’re incorrigible. Hold your ice on and sit still,” he tells me sternly.

“Sure, Doctor, whatever you say.”

I can tell it’s Bryce coming down to my room by the sound of his tread on the stairs. Spinning around in my desk chair, I wait for him to tap on my door before I call out for him to come in. He pushes the door wide and leans, shoulder resting against the doorframe, hands pushed casually in the pockets of his jeans.

“Hey,” I greet him, using the opportunity to take a break from my homework and roll out my neck. “What’s up?”

“You busy tonight?”

“Homework,” I answer, chin to my chest as I knead my shoulder.

“Max coming over?”

I look up at him. “I’m not sure. He’s at practice right now and up until an hour ago I was supposed to be working. They called and told me not to come in tonight, so.” I shrug. Right now my plans are no plans.

“Been awhile since we’ve been able to hang out,” he notes, and I immediately feel bad even though I know that’s not his intent. He’s right. I’ve never been this tied down with another guy before—one-night stands don’t usually infringe on best friend time.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I start, but he waves this off, grimacing.

“I’m not looking for an apology, bro, chill. We’re cool. I just wanted to see if you were interested in joining me tonight. Pigskin House is having a party tonight, which means I have to go.”

I grimace. Bryce is the kicker for the football team, which means he’s obligated to at least make an appearance. Usually, I wouldn’t mind tagging along, but I’m sure as hell not inviting Max and I have to admit that I’ve lost my taste for college parties in any capacity. But Bryce is my best friend and it’s been a while since we’ve done anything together—I owe him.

“Sure, why not? I’ll meet up with Max tomorrow, give him a break from me tonight.” I smile, but Bryce only cocks his head at me, dark eyes on mine.

“Why don’t you invite him?”

“Parties aren’t really his scene,” I say casually, shrugging. Bryce nods.

“All right. Leave in an hour?” I nod and he turns to leave, pausing and speaking back over his shoulder to me. “I like Max. I’m glad you found somebody.”

I grin at him. Bryce, for as long as I’ve known him, has never been single. He is the king of coupledom. “I guess you were right all along. Turns out having one person is better than having multiple.”

“I told you so,” he sings as he leaves my room and walks up the stairs. Snorting, I shake my head and get up from my desk, stretching my arms above my head and groaning. I pick up my phone to leave Max a long, rambling voicemail for when he gets out of practice and then get ready for the party. We haven’t even gotten there yet, and already I’m hoping that this covers me for the rest of the semester; if this is the last college party I have to attend, so be it.

Bryce and I end up having to park four blocks away from the party, unable to find a space any closer. I’d almost forgotten that parties at the Pig were like this: packed with co-eds and randoms who wandered in off the street, a mass of bodies and booze and too loud music. They could be fun, if one was in the mood or looking for an easy hook-up, but with each step toward the house my stomach curdles further. I am not in the mood for this.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Bryce says casually, looking at the brightly lit house up the block. We can hear the music from here. “Make the rounds with my teammates, play a few rounds of beer pong, and then I’ll drop you off at Max’s on the way home, yeah?”

“I can survive one night without him.”

“Mm hm, right. And that’s why you look like I’m walking you to the gallows instead of to a party.”

I sigh, trying to shake off my bad mood. “Sorry. Is Taylor coming?”

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