Page 43 of Overtime
My whole body tenses as if there’s a Bulldog all up in my grill.
I clench my jaw hard enough to hurt. If I let even a molecule of air pass between my lips, I will fully open them and tell themthey better not be thinking about scoring on Strawberry tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Shit would get too complicated if any of them start tangling with my tutor. I mean, they may even find out she’smy tutor. And that I’m flunking a class. And…
Scratch that. She’s not like our usual groupies and wouldn’t give them the time of the day. She’s the keeper kind, not the one-and-done kind.
But I know how these stooges think. If I give an inkling of concern about her, they’ll pounce on me and try to unveil the status of my interest. Which exists, yes. Because I’m interested in Strawberry’s well-being as a friend, like Ryan predicted. And none of these dipshits is right for her. I don’t know what kind of guy is right for her, but it’s not some foul-mouthed, foul-smelling, foul-playing hockey horndog.
Incluyéndome a mí.
The thought slams me in my mother tongue and makes my head spin. I rush through the rest of the undressing process so I can stand under the cold spray of water in a shower stall. I open my mouth to it, trying to wash off the bitter taste in my mouth.
Of course I’m not right for Strawberry either. I’m not even playing for her. I’m just her reluctant student. A friend at best. She’s not my type. I don’t even like eating fruits.
I’m losing my head.
I fiddle with the shower knob. Can this get any colder?
The answer is no. But the air outside is punishing. I walk slowly to my SUV, taking the sharp air into my lungs. It doesn’t cleanse me, though. I still have a pit in my stomach.
A group of Bolts exits the building. Some clap my back. Others bid me a good night. They discuss which bars to hit. Someone suggests crashing a party at someone’s house. Another gives a play-by-play of how he’s going to chat a particular girl up.
I stand in the parking lot by my car, rubbing my gloved hand up and down my head.
Nah. There’s no way I have a thing for my tutor.
I open the back door and toss my duffel bag and my stick in. Hop into the driver’s seat. Start the engine. Leave the heater as low as possible.
My heart beats like a freaking rabbit’s.
“No,” I say firmly to myself as I drive away from the facilities. I’ve only known her for, what, two weeks? Less, even.
It has to be the whole abstinence thing. I’m used to doing whatever with any girl I meet who also wants to do whatever with me. That stopped two weeks ago, and the only new girl I happened to meet during that time was Strawberry.
Wait, there were her three former roommates. But they were kind of douchey, I reason with myself as I drive into the parking lot of my building. If they’d all been decent, I might’ve hit it off with whoever wasn’t interested in Archie or the others. That’s it.
I park the car and turn it off. I’m calm now that I understand this is just the hormones talking. I only have to be strong for a couple of months more until we win the national championship and the semester ends. Then, once I graduate, Coach won’t be able to say shit about my dating life. And I obviously will have passed the elective, which means I won’t need to see Strawberry again.
My hand flies up to massage my scalp again.
A yellow Beetle drives into the parking lot and slides into one of the spots closest to the entrance. I watch as the plume of smoke from the exhaust wanes into nothing. The driver’s door opens, and out comes my tutor. Slowly. Too slow. I frown. Is something wrong?
It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to hover over her.
I drop my arm and turn off my car. I open my door and check to see whether she’s still there. With how slowly she’s moving, I’ll probably catch up to her easily. But should I?
No. I hang back and tell myself, “Aran, you’re not a helicopter.”
My eyes are glued to her as she traverses the parking lot at a snail’s pace. Something is definitely wrong. I need to not engage, though. But just as I’m about to turn on the car to drive anywhere else, Strawberry throws her arms into the air. And then she disappears from view.
A breathless moment passes until my brain clicks.
She slipped on ice.
She’s on the ground.
In a dark parking lot.
I rush out of my car at full speed.
