Still, he's where the party is and it's hard to say no to that, douche or no. I squeeze through and grab a seat.

  "You're a piece of shit, that's something we can all agree on, but a damn fine quarterback." Jack shoves a beer in my hand. "Now drink that shit up so we can take some goddamn shots!"

  Everyone in the bar erupts in cheers. You couldn't tear this smile off my fucking face if you tried. And what the hell, right? This is a night to celebrate.

  "Can I buy you a drink?" A pretty brunette slides through the crowd and sits on my lap.

  Instant calm hits me as I put a hand on her lower back. This is what was missing. The whole goddamn time. I rest my head on her shoulder. "I know what our arrangement can look like sometimes, but I'm really glad you're here."

  "I'll be here as long as you want me." She says and gives my arm a tight squeeze. "I can be here all night, too. You deserve some extra congratulations after tonight's win, if you know what I mean."

  Takes all of two seconds to realize this girl is not my Leigh and for her to go flying off my lap and into Jack. The warmth I had only a minute ago leaves and I don't like the coldness behind it. I don't like how I keep checking the doors on either side of us. I don't like how the colors in the bar are muted.

  "You look like you're having a great fucking time." Clark looks at me in the same way he always does when he feels like he's right about some shit I'll hate him for.

  A space at the bar clears up and I order two shots of Fireball. "I am having a great fucking time."

  "Right, sure, yeah." God, I hate this asshole sometimes. "You know, playing your conscience all the time is sort of draining."

  "Take the night off." We clink glasses and shoot. The burn in my nose helps ground me a little more. "Where's your other half?"

  "Outside. You look like you need some air."

  I only follow because wherever Sealy is, Leigh is bound to follow. I'm tired of sitting around like an asshole, waiting for the girl to show up. I take fate in my own hands.

  "All hail the mighty Davis!" Sealy cheers and gives me a quick hug. "Keep this shit up and that scout is going to be eating out of your hands. When is he getting here, anyway?"

  I shrug and scan the tables for a maroon wig. "Fucker's changed dates like four times. He's going to give me a goddamn heart attack before I get out of my early 20s at this rate."

  "You know what's the best about being on a team with Heath Davis?" Clark cracks a wide smile. "No one gives a shit about Clark Schmidt. No heart attacks for me, baby."

  "Thank god for that." Sealy kisses him and they fall into that new relationship trap of forgetting the rest of the world exists.

  Every drink I've had tonight catches up with me the second I lean back in the chair to look for Leigh again. The moment when everything goes blessedly quiet. It's the relief I've been waiting for. I join in a few rounds of the War Hymn for the 80th time and pose for a few pictures. Two different girls slip me their numbers. Time slips by like rain and soon nothing can hurt me anymore.

  "See this?" I wave the numbers in Clark's face. "She can blow me off all the fuck she wants because I don't need her."

  "What are you talking about, man?" Clark asks with a laugh, but it's the shit he does when he humors me.

  "You're supposed to be taking the night off. Quit with the judgy shit." I shove a finger in his direction. "I'm talking about Leigh. She can blow me off all she wants because I don't need her, get me?"

  "Think you can swing it without a tutor already?"

  "The fuck are you talking about? I'm talking about Leigh."

  "Right." He nods deliberately slow and it's infuriating. I'm not drunk, just enjoying the evening, and he wants to act like I'm an invalid? "So what does that have to do with some girl's phone number?"

  "Because I can get anyone else I want. She's not the only girl on the planet who can get this dick." I pop a thrust in my chair for good measure. "But, like, I won't call any of them because girls are the worst things on this planet. No offense Sealy."

  "Oh trust me. None taken." She says, eying me over her glass.

  I throw the numbers at her. "You girls think everything is fucking about you. But it's not. Do you see what's going on here? It's about me. Y'all are a dime a dozen and Lord Davis will have his pick of the litter."

  "Even though you weren't going to call any of them?"

  "Shut up, Clark. I'm waxing poetic about how I don't need a goddamn girl to fuck up my career because they are everywhere and I can fuck who I want."

  "But not the ones whose numbers you got?"

  "Bro, are you even listening to me?"

  "He might not be, but I am."

  There is the voice that I've been looking for all night. I turn around and see Leigh without her wig, holding a drink and looking very... angry.

  "Let me save you some trouble, Lord Davis." She trembles a bit. "You can find someone else to tutor your big brutish ass and suck your dick, because it sure as hell won't be me anymore."

  She storms out of the patio gate. All around me, people are whooping and cheering and booing, but it takes a full minute of watching her walk away for my brain to thaw from what happened.

  "Shit." I take off running after her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  LEIGH

  "Leigh! Wait!" Heath calls over the crowds, his voice threading through the brass and cheers along Northgate.

  If I close my eyes, it's easy to pretend I can't even hear him. After everything that I've heard from his stupid fat mouth today, it's what I want more than almost anything. I'd love to rewind the clock and take it all back. Pretend I don't know any of it.

  "Please!" He catches up in the quiet parking lot across the street and grabs for my hand, but my mace is already out and ready for him. "Holy shit. What is that for?"

  "It's what I use when I'm being stalked in dark places." I shove it in his face. It suddenly feels like the first night at Antonio’s, and that memory burns a hole within me. "So maybe you should back the hell up and leave me alone."

  "I've been looking for you all night. Why would I want to leave you alone?"

  "I don't give a shit what you want, Heath." The words feel almost as heavy in my mouth as they do on my heart. "I don't want to stand here and talk to you. I don't want to hear what that serpentine tongue of yours has to say. And I sure as fuck don't want to look at you ever again. So excuse me."

  "Can I please explain?" He tries to cut me off in front of another car, tentatively bobbing around the mace can, but I get the impression he doesn't actually think I'll use it. "Look, I've already told you I can say some stupid shit—”

  "Here's the thing about stupid shit you say, Heath." I don't relent the can of mace, even though I'm not sure I'll be able to use it, either. "I know drunk people. People don't say or do things they haven't thought about when they are drunk. Sobriety keeps people decent but inebriation opens them up to all the channels they've thought about in the past. This is shit you've thought about, things you've wanted to say. Being a decent goddamn person kept you from saying them before. That's all. Remember this fun little speech? I’ve already had to tell you this shit once."

  "No!" He tries to reach for me, but the look of sheer hatred radiating out from me stops him. "That's not fair. I don't date, okay? I don't do women. This is something that I have talked about for months, years, before you ever came into my life. I'm not drunk, Leigh. I mean, I've had some drinks, but I'm not a stumbling buffoon."

  "Wanna rewind the tape there, champ, and remember what the fuck you just said back there? Lord Davis?" I can't bring myself to repeat the rest because I'm busy willing my brain to scratch it out, bury in the back of my mind where I'll never find it. "That's even worse. You just said it because you meant it confirmed. Great."

  "No, that's not what I meant." He looks exasperated and it makes me want to punch him in the stupid face. "I thought you were blowing me off and so—"

  "Because you couldn't find me in the middle of a crowd of thousands, you decided I wasn't worth your time anymore? I'm just some expendable piece of ass that also happens to keep you from ruining any chance at obtaining this shitty dream of yours?"

  "Shitty dream? That's where you're going to take this?"

  "You've already hauled it down there, asshole." That familiar feeling of utter panic every time I get confrontational grips my chest. My ears ring, my breath shortens, and I have to focus on his stupid maroon shirt logo to keep from falling over. "Other fun things you should know: I heard you in the locker room today. I know what you think of me and I have no interest in speaking to you ever again. Good luck not failing out of fucking college."

  "What did I say?" He chases me back down the lot. Every way I turn, he's there, arms outstretched. "What did I say in the locker room?"

  "Enough." I say through clenched teeth. "Even if you're trying to talk big in front of your friends, Heath Davis, I'm worth more than you pretending I don't exist. I'm so tired of people like you. You fill up this whole goddamn town and steal all the air, you know that?"

  "I never meant—"

  "I don't care!" Everything inside burns. "Don't you understand? You mean nothing to me."

  "Oh yeah?" His whole demeanor flips like a light switch. "Sounds like you were the one using me."

  My jaw drops. He's got to be drunker than I thought, because there is no way in hell this is a rational argument. "Excuse me?"

  "Oh yeah! The nerdy girl who catches shit all the time at her job is suddenly there when the star ball player needs help? Think you can slide into my life and stir the fucking pot so you can attain a better status on campus than the shit one you've got now? Sounds about fucking right."

  "You think I suffered through trying to teach you simple math for status? You're an imbecile. You're an ignorant, arrogant, piece of College Station trash, Heath Davis. And if you somehow miraculously pull off getting out of here, you're going to be so brain damaged by the time you turn 40, you'll be a waste of flesh."

  "The fuck are you even talking about?" He pulls at his hair and his voice elevates an octave. Like I'm the crazy one whose pushed him to the edge instead of the other way around. "Brain damaged? Are you dense? Think because you're in smarter classes than me you know everything?"

  "It's a scientifically proven fact football players obtain a fuckton of brain injuries while playing, dumbass."

  "Oh, a fuckton? Is that the official scientific term?"

  "It is now, you ignoramus."

  "You know what I think happened? I think you fell in love with me and got scared and decided to make all this shit up so you could run away like the coward you are."

  "What?" My arms flail around to match his, like two insane people in a cage match. "Do you not understand how freaking insane that sounds? God, you are so self-centered and conceited. I spent all these weeks thinking you were somehow different, but nope! Fooled ol' Leigh, didn't you? Silly little girl thinks this piece of trash is going to be better than the others, when really y'all are all cut from the same fucking cloth."

  "Oh, look who’s talking! Trying to act like you're so above this town and this college and all the people in it. All this 'woe is me' bullshit about one fucking asshole in class acting like you don't belong, like you're somehow the only person in the whole universe who ever had someone say something mean to them. And yet who is the one who talks shit about football players? Who is the one who says I'll end up brain damaged—"

  "It's fucking science!"

  "—who walks around like she's better than me because she's using a different part of her body for her career? You're a fucking hypocrite. That's what you are. Leigh Samworth, fucking hypocrite."

  The ringing takes a sharp upturn in my ears and everything feels like too much. He's too close, the air is too warm, my shirt is too tight. I have to get away from him before the entire planet explodes.

  "Go fuck yourself." I manage to say without completely falling apart. "Don't ever talk to me again."

  I cut across the nearest row of cars and walk home. Heath still screams and rants behind me, but I can't discern his words anymore and I don't care to. My throat is scratchy, my eyes burn, and my heart feels like a grenade just detonated in the middle.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HEATH

  "Get ready for knee-highs!" I holler across the practice field. "I want to see knees to chests, boys! Don't cheat it! You'll only be cheating yourself and make practice suck more!"

  I clap my hands and watch rows of young boys break into a semi-uniformed movement. They range from seven to thirteen years old, and it's like looking at a time machine. It doesn't feel like that long ago I was doing the exact same thing, standing in the same place, doing the same exercises, listening to the older, wiser college boys sculpt our workouts.

  Some of the guys dread these camps but I love them. Seeing where I came from, how far I've come with hard work and sweat and a fuckload of late nights is cathartic. Now, it comes with the added bonus of distracting me from the shitstorm that is my personal life.

  You know, that thing I vowed would never become a shitstorm to begin with.

  Clark runs along the back line, yelling at a few of the kids to get their knees up higher. He pays extra attention to the kids who don't look like they have much, ratty t-shirts and store brand shoes, because he knows football can be their ticket to college when they'd otherwise be stuck at home to work in shops or farms.

  There's a place for that, but we both know what it's like to have bigger dreams. Dreams that involve waving goodbye to all our friends and our cowboy boots. I might keep the boots, though. Girls seem to love them, like they are some sort of sex trinket instead of hundreds of dollars’ worth of solid work leather. But hey, if these boots that have clomped around in the mud and pig shit make me look hotter than some douche in an expensive suit, I'll gladly parade them around.

  After two more sets, we call break and herd the boys to the Gatorade coolers, where Sealy is handing out cups and wet towels.

  "Just because the temperatures are no longer in the high 90s doesn't mean you can't get heat stroke!" She warns.

  "Nerd." I tease. "Football makes boys tough. We don't need to worry about heat stroke."

  She makes the same face she's made every day she's seen me since Leigh tore my ass up two weeks ago. It's not exactly friendly but she still talks to me. Won't tell me a goddamn thing about Leigh, though.

  "I'll be sure to remember you said that when the trainers have to rescue these poor boys from your prison workouts." Sealy rolls her eyes. The snark evaporates the moment Clark jogs over to kiss her hello.

  It's only been a handful of months, but I swear they are practically married at this point. It's nauseating to watch until my brain reminds me that could have been me. A newer, stranger emotion takes over and I don’t like it.

  "Do these kids get younger every year or are we just getting older?" Clark sprays his head with a water bottle, something Sealy makes sure to loudly point out.

  "We're turning into ancient mother fuckers." I shrug. "It's all downhill after 21."

  "You know, the average life span of people living in first world countries these days is—"

  "Sealy. I'm sure Clark loves all your nerdy random facts, but living until I'm 70 doesn't change the fact that we're getting old."

  “You can get older, then. I'm going to be young forever."

  "Good luck with that."

  "Don't need luck." She turns syrupy in Clark's arms. "I've got love."

  "Pardon me while I throw up my Gatorade."

  Clark grins at me. "Sounds like you've got symptoms of heat stroke."

  "Or heartache." Sealy chimes in.

  "All right. I'm going back to practice." I throw my paper cup at the trash can, but it bounces off the rim and lands in the grass. I groan. "See, that's why I play football."

  "You missed it because I'm right and you are miserable and lonely." Sealy needles at me. "Go back to your practice, Heath. It's all you'll ever have in life, so be sure to cultivate it well."

  "Aw, cut the guy some slack." Clark kisses her nose. "He's going to be old, rich, and lonely one day."

  "So miserly." She sighs loudly. "He could have been so happy."

  "We had an arrangement, remember?" I should walk away. I should stop giving a shit. But this is the first time she's ever said something about what happened to Leigh and me, and I'm desperate to hear how she's doing.

  For weeks, I've told myself it doesn't matter and that everything is better this way, and for two weeks I've had to watch Sealy and Clark slowly turn into one person, a painting of everything I could have had.

  Not even the decline of Jerzyk has helped take the edge off. My jack-off sessions have become depressing montages of Leigh in various state of dress, always smiling or rolling her eyes at me. Always pushing me to be a better person, a better student, even a better ball player.

  "Heath." Sealy snaps her fingers in my face. "Don't zone out while I'm lecturing you."

  "I don't need a lecture. This was what we agreed on, okay? She wanted it just as much as I did."

  "You both suck so bad. Clark, go make those boys run laps or whatever you have them do. I need to drop a few truth bombs on your boy here."

  "My pleasure." Clark claps me on the shoulder. "Listen to my nerd, man. She's brilliant."

  I frown. "Is she okay?"

  "I'm not talking about her, I'm talking about you." She presses a finger into my chest. "You can't keep acting like staying away from someone who makes you feel good is going to keep you from getting hurt late in life. Everything has a risk, Heath. My ass could explode in space. That doesn't mean I'm going to avoid a relationship for the rest of my life."

  "You don't know what I've seen." I struggle to keep my breathing flat, placid. "Bad things can happen. It's better this way."

  "Bullshit. Quit lying to yourself and quit lying to her. The entire freaking campus can see how you two fought to keep things genial, when all you wanted to do was make out all over the damn place."