Page 43 of Unlovable Player

My stomach drops and my face burns.

Austin’s voice by my ear is muffled, asking me what’s wrong.

“What were you laughing about?” I ask Smith and his girlfriend.

“What? Nothing.”

“What’s going on?” Austin asks.

I tell myself I’m being paranoid. They were not looking at what I think they were. But the look on their faces - it’s identical to the looks people would get when they’d see me in the hallways at Yale. The same glances from their phone to my face and that glee they’d get in their eyes when they connected the dots. Like they were seeing a celebrity in real life, one they could mock and jeer at.

All the resolve I have is melting away and I’m running on pure primal instinct as I push my chair back and ask them what they were laughing at again, this time, louder, much louder.

The whole table pauses it’s conversations and looks at me. Even a few people on nearby tables look.

Austin stands beside me and grabs my arm.

“Show me what you were looking at on your phone.”

Smith’s face gets indignant. “None of your businessYale.”

My nostrils flare and I feel like flipping the table. I don’t make a habit of getting into physical fights, my dad always taught me that words and backstabbing deeds are far more effective than getting your hands dirty, but at this moment, I’d like to punch someone.

Austin leans closer, so only I can hear. “Come outside with me, please.”

That “please” flips the switch, at least half way back from the brink.

I follow him outside, the cold air stinging my face, dampening the anger into something else.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

He sighs and takes a step back. There’s a cheer from inside.

“Sounds like the puck dropped.”

“I don’t give a shit about that, I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing, they were just… laughing and looking at her phone.”

“So?” Realization washes over him and he runs a hand over his face. “Want me to go in there and make them show me the phone?”

“No!”

“I won’t look at it… you know, they probably weren’t even looking at what you think they were.”

“They were.”

He sighs, looking back at the bar. “Wait here.”

AUSTIN

Idon’t know if I’m doing the right thing, but the look on Sebastian’s face killed me. If I’m going to stand up and be a good captain to all my teammates, I can’t let shit like this go. And after what he told me about the shit that went down at Yale and how his dad handled it, it makes me wanna go to bat for him even more.

I go back into the bar and ask Smith to tell me what he was looking at. I’ve pulled him away from the guys, and the game, and he isn’t happy. But by the way he keeps glancing at the screen over his shoulder, I know he won’t want to drag this conversation out any longer than he has to.

“Stacey said she saw a video of Yale-” He trails off and his cheeks flush.

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