Page 41 of The Game Plan

Miles

Ican’twashtheblood off my hands. When I close my eyes, I remember the crush of cartilage as O’Rourke’s nose broke beneath my fist. I hear the slurs he baited me with, the trash he said about me. Abouther.

I couldn’t stand by and let him ruin her reputation. She deserves more than to be lumped in with me.

And then afterwards… when she kissed my cheek, when she hugged me, when she thanked me for defending her… I roll over in my bed and pull my blanket up over my ears. I want to relive that moment forever and ever.

She’s not afraid of me. She’s not disgusted by me. She still wants to spend time with me. I didn’t just destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to me with an impulsive, ill-timed punch.

She approaches our table the next morning like absolutely nothing is wrong. Her gaze falls to my bruised knuckles before she offers me a brilliant smile.

“Good morning,” she chirps, settling in across from me and next to Greg.

“Morning,” he grunts, his attention on his coffee.

From the broad smile on her face, she isn’t offended.

“Good morning,” I manage, clenching my sore hand around my fork.

“How was your workout?”

“Good.” We did legs today. I love leg day. I’m fucking strong, and seeing the amount of weight I can lift increase week after week strokes my ego like nothing else. “You have weights too?”

“Chest, shoulders, and back,” she says, and my eyes fall immediately to her chest. She’s wearing a boxy sweater that only serves to highlight her… assets. My face flames red. It takes me a minute to meet her eyes. When I do, she’s grinning, her lips twitching. “It was a good morning.”

“You’re not sitting with your friends.”

“I spend enough time with them,” she says. “I live with them and we train together. Sometimes it’s nice to have a little space to miss them.”

Wes grunts, his contribution to our otherwise private conversation in the middle of the dining hall.

Sam is smiling at him. No fair. I want all of her smiles for myself.

“Exactly, Wes,” she says, like he said something worthwhile.

“So things are better?” I gesture with my fork. “With your friend?”

She sighs, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. I want to kiss that lip. I want to do a whole lot of things to her mouth, none of them appropriate for people I call friends.

“I think so. She’s been on her best behavior.” She swallows. “She didn’t say anything about Saturday night or the photos, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Nothing happened,” I remind her. It was all innocent. We left a party to go play video games and watch a movie. We didn’t hook up.

No matter how much I wish we did.

“No, I know. But if something… of note were to happen,” she says, her face tinting pink, “we would have already talked about it by now. We don’t have a lot of secrets.”

I don’t think I like the idea of her talking to her girlfriends about the private stuff we do together. I don’t go blabbing to Greg and Tucker that she let me hold her hand. Mainly because then they would know the truth, that I’m a pathetic loser whose sexual experience is so limited it’s almost nonexistent. Who am I kidding? We’ve lived together for a year and a half. They probably already know.

I’m not interested in pity fucks. Freshman year, living in the athlete’s dorm, there used to be certain girls who would hang around and…hang out withplayers. They did all the work. And they seemed to enjoy it enough to keep doing it. Cleat chasers. Jersey chasers. Some girls were exclusively interested in football players. Some girls went for all athletes, regardless of the sport they played.

But they weren’t actually interested in me, the person.

It sounded like a good idea at the time. Meaningless, no strings attached sex for a poor touch-starved virgin with virtually no self-esteem, where I didn’t even have to do any of the work, emotional or physical. They climbed right on top of me and did everything.

It didn’t feel good. In the moment, sure, it was fantastic. But as soon as they was done, they pulled their clothes back on and left without a word. It was nothing like they show in movies. There was no emotional satisfaction. I just felt empty. Used.

It’s easier to lock that part of me away. I keep to myself. Eventually, one day, some woman might want to be with me. Until then, I’m going to work on being the best version of myself I can be.

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