Page 69 of All Too Well
Lachlan faces Everett. “Didn’t he say that last month? I swear he did. He came over here, talking shit, and then we annihilated them. Do you remember that? I know I’m old, so maybe my memory is off.”
Everett purses his lips and pinches his chin. “No, I’m pretty sure you’re right. Miles, do you remember it?”
“You know, we beat so many people, I can’t remember if Total Discbags was below us, but ...”
Killian jumps in. “Wait, wait, wait, they had to be because we won! That’s right. Grant, were you there?”
Grant seems to fume a little, and I almost feel bad for the kids since ... you know, these are grown men and all. “Not this time.”
My face falls, and I almost want to hug him because he really needs to work on his game if he’s going to come over here. “Grant, is it?” I ask. “Honey, these guys have decades on you inthe shit-talking game. Next time talk about the fact that one has a knee brace or threaten to kick him.”
“Ainsley,” Lachlan says with a warning in his tone.
I ignore that because ... what’s he going to do? Pin me down and kiss me? I’m all for that. I keep talking to Grant. “Maybe watch some videos for tips or something. Better yet, leave it on the pitch and just kick their ass that way.”
Grant looks slightly offended, but I’m just trying to help him out. He leaves without another word, and I hope he takes my advice. Sparring with these guys is a sport in itself.
“It’s a field not a pitch. We’re not playing soccer,” Lachlan says after a minute.
“Is there a difference?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m really confused why you were chosen for a sports piece.”
“Well, my decrepit friend, I’m not writing about sports. It’s more like sports with a twist of human interest and a splash of money for colleges.”
“Money for colleges? I thought we already talked about why athletes get scholarships.”
“You can’t tell me there’s not some backdoor dealings with this stuff. Everett and I talked at length about his offers. I think there’s a story there,” I tell him. “I’ll learn more after my meeting with the others.”
Since he’s no help.
Lachlan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Some days, I wonder about you.”
“What I’m hearing is that you think about me often.”
“I don’t.”
I shrug. “That’s what you just said.”
“I said I wonder about you, meaning I wonder how you get through life without walking into walls.”
“Easy, I just keep my eyes open,” I explain.
He sighs. “Let’s get set up.”
When he said “set up,” I really thought it would be like theothers. A tent, a blanket, maybe a chair or two, but oh, no. It’s nothing like that.
These are grown men who know how to do a tournament setup.
There are four tents tied together, each having a quadrant where there are specific uses—one with chairs and a table, one where the food will be handled, one for stretching and an array of things I have no idea about, and another for overflow.
The food side is especially amazing, with a grill, chips, soda, waters, and all kinds of fruits and veggies.
“Are we tailgating?” I ask.
Miles laughs. “That’s after. The beer has to stay in the truck since this is a college event.”
“Yes, and you’re all such doe-eyed college kids.”
