Page 111 of Vicious Saint
I bleed blue.
But today is not the day for NFL nostalgia, not when I need to avoid anyone who knows me.
Or dear old dad.
Besides the janitor with his headphones on mopping the halls, the first floor is empty as I step inside, not a T.V. or lamp left on in the lobby. Works in my favor, given not even Riggs or Levi know I’m out yet.
And I plan to keep it that way.
My Jordans squeak against the floor as I pass the old man, who doesn’t even bother glancing my way as he continues to clean around me.
“Yo, Saint!” a guy calls out from behind me, forcing my feet to an aggravated halt.
So much for fucking empty.
My defensive lineman Rick jogs to a stop in front of me. “What’s up, man? How you been?” He holds his fist out, then drops it nonchalantly when I don’t budge.
“Busy.”
He nods in understanding. “Yeah, man. I feel that. Got back here last night just trying to settle in and shit before first practice tomorrow.”
There goes another plan of mine shot to hell.
My jaw flexes as I adjust the bag over my shoulder. “You need somethin’, Rick?”
“Nah, man, all good. But did you hear about what happened in the female dorms the other night?”
“Pretty hard to miss the damage outside.”
“Crazy, man. Heard a kid at school did it. Was cooking drugs or some shit.”
“Cooking, huh?” I respond, bored and close to alleviating it with my fists.
“That’s what they’re sayin’. But who knows. Shit’s always going on in this school.”
“Nothing worth giving a fuck about.”
His chest rumbles with a laugh. “I don’t know, man. Word is you went ham on a couple JV’s two months ago.”
The reaction is visceral as my hand locks around Rick’s throat, pushing him backwards until he slams against the wall.
“Oh, yeah, Rick? What else did you hear?”
My chest crushes his, making it even harder for the guy to breathe.
“I-I…”
“I-I, what motherfucker? Speak.”
“Can’t…breathe.”
“Kids these days would call that askill issue.”
Rick’s face turns redder by the second. “Please, man. Let me go.”
“Here’s the problem with that, Rick. You made me mad. And I don’t want to be mad. Because when I’m mad bad things happen.” His hands are prying at mine as I continue, “I’m really trying to turn over a new leaf. You understand? Make better life choices.”
“That’s great, man. I’m happy—”
