Page 41 of Blitz'd

“You know it.”

From behind me, I hear, “Bet you wish Megan’s head was still in your lap after a game. Whoops, she’s in mine.” Justin laughs obnoxiously from behind me, slapping hands with someone I can’t see. I just flip him the bird without turning around, not giving him any words. The last person on my mind is Megan.

Our team loses the coin toss, so we’re on defense first, giving me an opportunity to get a good look at their offense. That doesn’t last long. Almost immediately, the quarterback is sacked and fumbles the ball. Russ recovers it and runs thirty yards for a touchdown. Moone and the special teams take the field and he makes the field goal for the extra point.

Up 7–0.

When the offensive line goes out to the field, I make it a point to find a camera to wave at. Since we have a perfect record, our games are televised. I have a feeling that little wave will make it to Kerian.

I wipe my hands on the towel hanging from the front of my pants, then line up behind Chuck. “Ace eighty-eight,” I call, glancing left and right down my line. “Ace eighty-eight. Hut!”

Chuck snaps the ball and I drop back a few steps. I cock my arm as if to throw, then pitch it to my running back, Barret Oakley. He takes off up the center, where most of the defensive line from the opposing team is. But Oakley fucking bulldozes through them, dropping his shoulder and protecting the ball as he puts on speed and heads towards the end zone.

A groan goes up in the crowd when Oakley gets the touchdown. We cheer, many on my line slapping my helmet before we run to the end zone and jump on Oakley for a good play. Of course Moone gets the extra point.

14–0.

The game goes pretty much like that, ending in a blowout score of 49–3. We’re all floating when we get to the locker room, cheering and snapping towels at each other.

“Yall wanna go get a drink? It’s on me,” Oakley says. He had his career best for rushing yards this game at one hundred and eight. I’m sure he’s flying higher than us all. “Come on, Braithe. You’ve earned a drink tonight.”

Any other night I’d be down, but I really want to go back to the room and text Kerian to ask if he watched the game. I’ve been looking forward to talking to him since we got off the bus.

“Not tonight. I wanna?—”

“He’s going to go cry in his pillow because his girl is hopping on my dick now,” Justin says, posting against the locker where he stashed his clothes. “How does it feel that your dick game is so weak that your girl came after me?”

The locker room goes silent as everyone looks at me.

It’s no secret about Justin and Megan. After the game and the party Russ told me about, they’ve been making a big deal about being seen together, kissing and touching obnoxiously. If I didn’t have Kerian, it would piss me off that they’retryingto annoy me. But now, I couldn’t give a fuck less.

Grinning at him, I shake my head. “You’re kinda obsessed with me, bro. You wanna hop on my dick?”

“The fuck you say, fa?—”

I push off the locker to throttle Justin, but before I get close to him, Russ stands up and pushes Justin so hard he flies back into his locker. “I fuckingdareyou to finish that fucking word.”

I grab Russ by the shoulder, pulling him back. “He’s not worth it, man. Let’s go. We can shower back in our room.”

“Nah, fuck him,” Russ says, breathing heavily as he looks down at a struggling Justin. No one helps him up because no one agrees with that shit. We’ve had openly gay players on our team in years past and no one gave them shit. To know that Justin was going to use that disgusting word because he couldn’t rattle me pisses me off. “I’m going to shower. He ain’t gonna run me out of a locker room when he doesn’t even need to be in here. If you don’t play, you shouldn’t need to shower.”

Justin’s face reddens as people start to laugh and agree with Russ. Unlike most of us, Justin didn’t touch the field at all tonight. Usually during the second half, if we were up by at least thirty points, Coach would take out the starters. For some reason, he let us have our fun tonight.

Anger clouding his expression, Justin turns away from us, slamming his gear into the locker. Russ turns around and gathers his things, sauntering into the shower like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I realize when I’m wrapping my towel around my waist that Russ told me his brother is gay. That word probably triggers him because of his twin. Ugh, I wish people would cut the shit and let people live their lives without calling them slurs.

“You good?” I ask him when we’re on the bus. He hasn’t said much since he put Justin on his ass.

He nods, pulling out his headphones and stuffing them in his ears. “Yeah. Just… yeah, I’m good, man.”

Ever since we got close, Russ and I have shared a room during away games. Usually offense and defense players room separately, but we do what we want. Coach tried to stop us because of his superstitious bullshit, but when we won a game after we roomed together, he allowed it.

When we get to our room, Russ puts on his pajamas and climbs into his bed, his headphones still in his ears.

I’m bothered by what Justin said. He’s such a fucking asshole. Not only is he a shitty teammate who doesn’t respect the bro code, he’s a fucking homophobe. I can’t wait to graduate and get as far away from that bitch as I can.

After I change into a pair of loose flannel pants, I climb between the sheets and plug in my phone. I check to see if I have messages, and see one from Kerian. An involuntary grin crosses my face. All thoughts about Justin cease as I focus on the few words on my screen from Kerian.

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