Page 42 of Play It Off

“Come back after two. Myra should be here by then. I’ll let her know a Santa Mira celebrity wants to work here!” Jamie waves enthusiastically when I exit the store, and I wave back at her through the window as I pass by, rounding the building before I lean against it with a sigh, pressing the back of my head against the rough brick wall.

Well, that was a complete waste of time. No way am I going to apply there. While they’d probably hire me on the spot, they’d only do it thanks to my connection to Coop—and Gavin. Plus, they’ll also have certain expectations, and all of them will have to do with the team.And Jamie probably wants a shot at Gavin too. She’s pretty. Would he be interested in her? It doesn’t even matter that we had sex two nights ago. All my old insecurities come flooding back, and I shove them out of my brain, mad at Jamie and Myra and Gavin.

Definitely at Gavin.

I haven’t reached out to him, and he hasn’t reached out to me either. We’re both playing a dumb game, and if I keep this up, I’m definitely going to be the loser.

Yeah, taking this job would be a disaster. I’m not about to set myself up for failure. For pain and suffering. I want to work, but not that bad.

I go into a few more stores and ask for applications, but none of the people I spoke to could tell me if their place of employment was hiring or not. I end up at Back Yard Bowl, a locally owned smoothie-and-acai-bowl place, feeling down in the dumps as I order a berry bowl, ready to hand over my debit card to make my purchase when I spot the tiny sign taped on the back of the register.

Now hiring! Questions? Ask for Matty.

“You’re hiring?” I ask the cashier, who is a tiny thing I could probably squash like a bug. She looks terribly young too. Like maybe she’s still in high school or just graduated.

“We are.” She smiles and shifts the card reader closer to me. “Go ahead and tap.”

I do as she says and add a small tip because I’m feeling generous—and she did make me that bowl. “Can I ask you an honest question?”

She’s frowning. “Sure?”

“Do you like working here?”

Her frown fades and she’s smiling again. “Oh yeah. The hours are great. We’re currently only open until seven, even on weekends, and after Labor Day, we’ll reduce it to five. It can get pretty busy here in the morning and around lunch, but our manager always schedules enough people, and it never feels too stressful, you know?”

“How long have you worked here?” I’m glad there’s no one behind me in line, which gives me the time to ask these questions.

“A couple of months. I started in June right after I graduated from high school.”

Hmm, I was right. “Do you go to UC Santa Mira?” I ask.

She nods. “I just started, but I love it.”

“I’m a junior there,” I tell her. “And I really need a job.”

“You want to talk to Matty? He’s the manager.”

“He’s here?”

“He is. Go eat your bowl, and I’ll let him know you’re interested.” She adds a pile of napkins and a fork to my tray.

“Should I fill out an application?”

“Nah. He’s pretty informal. Just have a sparkling personality and a willingness to work pretty much anytime, and he’ll probably hire you on the spot.”

I actually salute her like a dork. “I can manage that.”

We both laugh, and I take the tray to an empty table, feeling lighter than I have in days. Maybe even weeks. Hopefully things are going to work out for me after all—at least job-wise.

Chapter SixteenGavin

Practice is rough all week. The coaching staff have kicked up the intensity every single day as we prepare for a stretch of away games. Their expectations are high, and their demands are getting to everyone.

A sophomore second-string lineman collapsed on the field near the end of practice this afternoon because he was dehydrated, and that was on him. We were all aware he was partying at his frat last night since he posted it to his stories for everyone to see. Coach Porter wasn’t amused, especially when he specifically requested that we watch what we eat and drink the next few weeks. Nothing but protein and water, and carb loading before practice and the game. No junk food, no alcohol. They want us lean, mean fighting machines.

And we’re all keeping up with it, save for the younger guys. They don’t take it as seriously as the rest of us, and unfortunately, that means we’re all punished for their slipups. I’ve never run around the track as much since I was a freshman. I’ve lost five pounds over the last week, and I’m pretty sure I’ve shed it thanks to sweat. Doesn’t help that the temperatures have been warmer here lately. Fall is actually the warmest season in Santa Mira since we get so much fog here during the summer.

“Fuck me running, I’m exhausted,” Nico complains to me in the locker room.

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