Page 67 of Drilled (Dad Bod Contracting 2)
I nod. “Well, yeah, but you guys quit jobs, broke leases, moved, and shared a house. Those are not small sacrifices.”
He waves a hand at me. “Enough about that. Get to the good stuff.” He eyes me with humor. “And by that I mean the really horrible shit that probably scarred you as bad Maria did me.”
In a patently ridiculous attempt to leaven my own mood, I make the wooden rabbit hop around the workbench, singing “Little Bunny Foo-Foo”, tapping the carving on the bench at every repetition of “boppin’ ’em on the head.” It makes Franco laugh, which makes me laugh, but I can’t put off telling Franco the unvarnished truth any longer.
“Okay, so I met Jared my sophomore year at State. He was an all-state quarterback in high school, and ended up all-state in college, too. I met him on the track—we were both doing wind-sprints early one morning. He was the real-deal golden boy, you know? All-American good ol’ boy from the Illinois countryside. Drove his grandfather’s restored pickup, lettered in three sports in high school, prom king, valedictorian—the star quarterback who led his team to state championships three years in a row, because he was the starting varsity QB by sophomore year in the most competitive high school football program in the state. Tall, built, perfect blond hair and pretty blue eyes and a dazzling white smile.”
Franco rolls his eyes. “Sounds like a douche.”
I laugh. “Well, he was, and still is probably, but I didn’t know that then.”
“Well, of course not. With those kinds of qualifications, who would ever think that of him?”
“And to be fair, he was really good at covering his douchey-ness.”
“They always are.”
“They?” I ask, eyeing him curiously.
“The biggest douches on campus. I didn’t go to college in the traditional sense—I went to trade school via an apprenticeship, so my personal experience was different than most, but I spent a lot of time at Urbana-Champaign with James and Renée, so I got to be pretty familiar with how places like that work.”
“Right. Well, he was the king of the campus at State, like he’d been the king of the campus in high school—it was a continuation of high school for him, I think, just on a larger scale. More attention, more fanfare, more glory.” I pause, gathering my thoughts and memories. “So, you have to be aware that I was…pretty much the opposite of him. A nobody. I mean, sure I set a few records for volleyball and track, but who really cares about that? I was the tough girl from the trailer park. Back then, I didn’t really dress the way I do now; I lived in athletic gear—track pants, hoodies, gym shorts, cross-trainers, nothing tight or revealing. And by the time I met Jared, I had a pretty interesting reputation already.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning I’d been assaulted on campus late one night my freshman year—only, I kicked the shit out of the guy so bad he had to be hospitalized. And then another guy tried to pick me up in the cafeteria one day, and I publicly roasted him, as the kids on the internet like to say. I mean, I was brutal. Shit like that happened a lot to me, and I developed a reputation as a hard-ass ice queen. I had no patience for guys, beyond…you know. Getting into their dorms and back out when I was done with minimal drama.”
“And then you met Jared.”
“Exactly. So he’s this golden boy, and I’m the girl who beats guys up and roasts them in the cafeteria so bad they all but run away crying. I’ve mellowed a lot since college, if you’ll believe it.” I laugh, and Franco laughs with me. “It was an unlikely pairing at best. But I could go to the gym, or the track, and keep up with him—and not just keep up, but challenge him. Obviously I lifted less in terms of weight, but he had a hard time matching me in terms of raw intensity. He liked that. He wasn’t…it didn’t faze his sense of manhood, I guess—and it does a lot of guys—but I’m never willing to back down or put out less than my full effort.”
“Nor should you.” He eyes me. “You’re a beast, for real. And that’s sexy as fuck, to me.”
“Thanks for that.” I can’t help a smile, but I’ve got more to tell. “Anyway. Jared wasn’t threatened by me, and that made me feel like I could be…I don’t know—a girl. Stupid, but I don’t know how else to put it. I’d had to be tough all the time—my trailer park growing up was a rough place, and my apartment wasn’t great either, so I was always this tough, strong, take-no-shit chick. Still am, actually. But Jared let me feel like a girl. Still not exactly what I’m trying to say, but I don’t know how to put it.”
