Page 11 of King of Pain
She’s not wrong.
Me:Fair point.
Jen:Anyway, you ready for tomorrow? Gonna train the new guy without scaring him off?
Me:I’ll try. No promises.
Jen:Be nice to him! First impressions matter.
Me:Yeah, yeah. What do you know about him?
Jen:Not much. Kathy says he’s “charming but broody,” I think that’s older people code for hot bad boy.
I rub my eyes and shake my head.
Me:Frank and Kathy aren’t old.
Jen:I said OLDER Anthony, not old. Gotta go. I have class.
Me:No, you don’t.
Jen:Very funny, Pacini.
I toss my phone onto the bed, letting out a long breath. Jen’s good at this, at poking fun, breaking down the walls I’ve built that make it hard for people to get close to me. Jen is a bulldozer though—once she decided we were going to be friends… that was that.
Still, the thought of training someone tomorrow puts a knot in my stomach. It’s not the work, really. I could alphabetize records in my sleep. However, the idea of spending hours making small talk with a stranger gives me anxiety.
Frank and Kathy seem to think this Chance guy will fit in. I guess we’ll see.
I stretch out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and close my eyes, willing myself to relax while my mother’s text lingers in the back of my mind.
When my phone buzzes with another notification, I groan.
Aren’t I the popular one today?
It’s a text from Butters.
Butters:Party at the GLV tonight you in?
I pause, staring at the message. Parties aren’t really my scene—especially these kinds. The GLV, short for Greek Leadership Village, is our school’s version of fraternity row. Officially, it’s designed to ‘support leadership and promote academic development’,at least according to the glossy brochures parents are handed. But when you cram twenty-some fraternity and sorority houses into a cluster of condos, the only thing that develops is a party.
Me:You already know the answer to that. Why do you keep asking?
He shoots back immediately.
Butters:Because one of these times I’ll get you to say yes.
Me:Doubtful but thanks for trying.
Butters:Fine, you’re off the hook tonight, but I’m going to have to report you for a crime bro.
Me:Gonna hate myself for asking, aren’t I? What crime, Butters?
Butters:Concealed carry without a permit. No one swinging that much meat should be concealing it from everyone outside of the locker room.
My face burns with embarrassment. I’ve gotten plenty of shit from teammates since high school over my… proportions. As if locker rooms weren’t awkward enough already, the last thing I needed was any extra attention. Thankfully, I’ve managed to navigate high school and college sports without incident.
Me:You’re an idiot, go to your party and don’t get wasted. We have practice tomorrow.
