I don’t put my phone up, but I let it drop to my side. She steps back off the lawn into the street. She wavers for a second on her heels, and then she turns and saunters back to her car, like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
She opens the door and before she climbs inside she says with a smile, “Go back to your party, baby. We’ll talk another time.”
I squeeze my fist so hard, I’m surprised I don’t crush my phone. She ducks into her car, and it sputters to life, old and rusted and completely at odds with the image she works to project.
Then she’s gone, and it feels like everything I’ve built here is seconds away from crumbling around me. Like a house of cards destroyed by a simple breath. And all I can think is if things are gonna fall apart, I’m not going to stand here trying to catch the pieces.
I turn and most of the game is still going, but half a dozen people stand off to the side watching me. McClain. Stella. Brookes. Torres. A few more. I walk away from the curb, and Torres grins at me. “You been holding out on us, Moore? Who was that hot piece—”
“Say one more f**king word, and you lose your tongue.”
He holds his hands up in surrender, but he’s still smiling. They all are. Except Stella and Brookes. They’re both looking at me like they, too, are waiting for my sky to start falling. Like they’re the only ones who really understand what they just saw.
My phone buzzes in my hand again, and I’m ready to throw it until I see the text. It’s from Levi again.
Come on, man. I need to blow off some steam. Get your ass to Trent’s.
I stalk past the group, ignoring the looks I get, and pick up my shirt from where I’d tossed it on the grass. Then I run inside to grab my keys and switch out my athletic shorts for jeans. Because it just so happens I need to blow off some steam, too.
TRENT’S IS A dank, grungy, hole-in-the-wall place that most students pass over for the newer, popular bars in the campus bubble. The bell rings as I step in the door, and even though it’s late afternoon, it’s dark enough inside that I have to squint to find Levi.
He sits at the bar, a bottle lifted to his mouth and another sitting beside him that I assume is for me. The place is practically empty except for the bartender, and an old dude in a booth at the back.
For a moment, I hesitate. Something twists in my gut and my jaw clenches, and I don’t even really know why I came here. Part of me wants to say f**k it all, get smashed with Levi, and give in to the inevitability of this shitfest. Another part, a bigger part, wants to lay into my old friend and work off what I’m feeling with my fists.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should turn around and walk back out to my truck. There are only stupid decisions waiting for me here.
But I’ve never cared all that much about being smart.
I stalk across the bar and slide onto the stool next to him. I tip back the beer and fix my eyes on the baseball game playing on the old TV sitting up beside bottles of liquor on the shelf.
“What? I don’t even get a hello?” Levi says.
I ditch the hello and ask instead, “How was prison? You got out fast.” Must be nice to have a lawyer for a dad. Hell, must be nice to have a dad in the picture, period.
Levi lifts his hands in a shrug and says, “Can’t keep me down.”
Sad thing is . . . he’s probably right. Guys like him always get second, third, and fourth chances.
“What are you doing here, Levi?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m having a drink, and then I’m gonna get laid. Priorities, am I right?”
“I mean . . . what are you planning to do here?”
“I thought I just covered that.”
“You’re just going to hang out here in town? When you’re not allowed to set foot on campus? Are you even allowed to be in a bar right now?”
He shrugs. “I just can’t be around drugs of any kind. Alcohol might count, but nobody’s gonna find out.” He gestures to the deserted bar. “And why do I have to figure out what I’m doing right now? I’ll just hang out. It will be the same as it always was . . . but now I don’t have to go to class.”
“The same as it always was,” I mutter and drain the rest of my beer in three big gulps. I wave down the bartender for another while Levi continues.
“Yeah, man. We should drive down to Austin this weekend. Go to Sixth Street. We’ll get plastered. Maybe float the river.”
“I have practice on Monday.”
“You’ll be back in time.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile.”
He scoffs. “Fuck. Coach Cole is the worst. Soon you guys won’t be able to do jack shit.”
“It’s not Coach. It’s all of us.”
“All of you?”
“Yeah. We want the team focused. McClain and I—”
“McClain? Are you f**king serious right now?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. You seem to be forgetting that you screwed us all over. McClain stepped up.”
Levi scowls, a low, bitter laugh rolling out before he takes another drink. “That guy’s nothing. Walk-on, junior college piece of shit.”
I’d always felt more at ease with Levi than anyone else. He reminded me of my brother in ways. My brother was always kind of an ass**le, too.
And with my past pressing in on me, I know I’ve got two choices. I can go the easy way, the way that comes naturally to me. I can stay at this bar, get drunk, get some girls, and ride out my time here at Rusk doing whatever the hell I want for as long as it lasts. That’s how I’ve always lived—take the good you can get before the bad catches up to you.