Page 14 of The Surprise Play
Mr. Snowman is soon forgotten as we pelt each other with snowballs, Zoey getting in on the action and becoming her dad’s righthand girl.
It quickly escalates, and I’m forced to take cover behind a tree while Zoey and Zander form their next attack plan.
Sensing their move to the left, I jerk right, slippingover in the snow and landing with a crunch. My knee pings and I grunt, giving it a quick rub before jumping back to my feet and running to make a fresh snowball while getting pelted in the arm by a beautifully aimed attack from the quarterback.
CHAPTER 5
WILY
Monday morning rolls around, and much to my annoyance, I still haven’t finished proofing my assignment.
Proofing it? You haven’t even read it!
I print it out anyway. This professor likes to mark paper assignments, so I don’t have the chance to make any last-minute changes. Not that I would.
I have no idea what this AI essay really means. Having not read the book and finding the language too waffly for my simpleton brain, I’m basically handing in five pages of applesauce. All I can hope is that the professor skims it and goestick, tick, ticklike he usually does.
I just need a C.
One little C.
Gritting my teeth, I do my next set of reps on the leg press, my muscles straining as I push the 700-lb. weights up and hold for a second before bringing them backdown again. My thighs are burning, but I keep pushing, knowing this is ultimately good for me.
I’m tired, though.
After a restless night, I’ve woken up off-kilter and in a foul mood.
But I can’t go letting that show, because I’m not a grumpy bastard. I’m the happy guy. The one who never gets bothered by anything, and I’m not losing that reputation over some fucking assignment. The only time I’ll ever let my anger really show is on the field… or if some douchebag is treating a woman badly. I’ve got a thing about it. Anyone willing to beat on a smaller, weaker person deserves to go down with a punch to the face. That’s just a fact of life.
Why anyone would want to harm a woman is beyond me. I’ve always loved them, and my parents raised me to be a gentleman… to treat people with kindness and respect.
I mean, yeah, sure, I’ve had some one-night stands, and some would argue that isn’t respecting women. But I’d counter that it’s usually the girls instigating that shit, and I’m simply delivering on their requests. I’m not about to turn down an offer from a pretty lady. And okay, I’ve thrown out a few offers of my own, but casual hookups seem to be the thing here at Nolan U, and as far as I’m aware, I’m not leaving a trail of broken hearts in my wake.
In fact, last year, a night with Wily Wilson became this bucket list challenge for one sorority. Shit, that was a gooooood semester. You didn’t hear me complaining. Sex is a great way to blow off steam. Way more fun than working out at the gym. Although, I enjoy that too.
Setting the leg press back, I give myself a second torest before pulling myself up and walking over to the free weights. This new workout has been an easy one to memorize, and I grab the 50-lb. dumbbells and start my bicep curls, checking myself in the mirror and remembering to breathe as I hold my stance.
“Good job today, Carson.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
I spot my roommate walking into the gym with our head coach. He has a small smile on his face as he wipes the sweat away and goes to the mat behind me. Warmed up after a five-mile run with Coach, he drops down and does thirty quick push-ups before rolling onto his back and starting a quick set of sit-ups.
Coach and Carson have been going out for a run most mornings in the past month, and I’ve noticed a real change in my roommate. He’s found this calm we didn’t think he was capable of.
He was working hard to get his girl back, and now that they’re reunited, I just hope he can hold it together. She seems to bring out the best in him, so here’s hoping.
Flipping back onto his stomach, he does another quick set of push-ups, then catches my eye in the mirror.
“Hey,” he puffs and turns onto his back again.
“’Sup.” I raise my chin at him, straining to finish the last of my curls before putting the weights back and grabbing my bottle of water.
Chugging back a decent amount, I continue my workout until Coach walks back in, clapping his hands to get our attention, then tapping his watch. “Shower up, boys. Don’t want you being late to class.”
We all acknowledge him with various grunts and noises, Zander trailing him out first, followed by therest of the guys working out. I linger, wiping down my face with a towel and catching my reflection in the mirror.
Shit. I know I’m procrastinating right now.
