“How can you hear it over the music?” Nick Ashford butts in. I close my eyes and wish he’d go away. He’s dense and thinks he’s better than me. I see him staring at my girl all the time and it pisses me off.
“I just can.”
“Look at Katelyn,” Mason changes the subject to avoid any confrontation from starting and brings his current bottle to his lips.
“What about her?”
“I love her.”
“And she loves you,” I reply against my better judgment. I love Mason, but sometimes when he’s been drinking he gets so girly that I have to watch what I say. If I’m not careful, he’ll cry on my shoulder and tell me how much he loves me for being his QB1 and I don’t want to hear it right now.
I twist the top off my beer and take a long pull as I survey the crowd. The cops should be here busting this up, but they won’t come. If they bust us, our winning streak goes out the door and they’d be the most hated people in town. They’d likely get fired. Beaumont takes their football a bit too seriously if you ask me, but whatever, it’s allowing me to drink out in the open and fuck my girl in my truck without getting busted.
“Mase, come down here. I’m lonely,” Katelyn yells up at him.
The laughter between the girls and us is just enough to keep a constant flow of noise in the air.
“I love you, baby,” Mason yells through cupped hands. “I’m going to marry that girl and make beautiful babies with her.” We start laughing, but I know it’s true. Katelyn walks on water where Mason is concerned. I know the feeling. I look down and see the silhouette of my girl standing by my truck, my letterman jacket making me jealous because it’s wrapped around her. But this is tradition, being here after a game.
“I know man,” I say, patting him on the back.
“Double wedding,” he shouts as I spew my beer out of into the open air.
“Dude, you’re a dude. You aren’t supposed to be talking about weddings and shit.” Jerad says before chugging his beer.
Mason shrugs. “When you love someone, you just know.”
His words keep me silent because he’s right. I know I love Josie and want to be with her. I told her this much tonight. I see her as my wife of fifteen/twenty years and I’m confident that she sees me as her husband, but is it enough?
“Do you ever think about knocking her up so she has to stay with you?” I turn slowly at Mason and he meets my eyes.
“What?” I ask as utter confusion runs through me.
“I don’t know. The thought of college away from Katelyn scares me and sometimes I think if I got her pregnant she’d follow me wherever I go.”
I turn away and look at Josie.
My girl.
My Jojo.
I can’t even begin to think like Mason.
“Nah,” I say, taking a swig of my beer before tossing it to the bed of my truck.
Chapter 6
Mondays. I hate them. They’re literally the worst day of the week. Not only are most of us tired, but teachers come to work in a bad mood. None of them are chipper or happy go lucky. They’re pissed off and sucking down cups of coffee to keep themselves awake. You’d think that after our win on Friday night they’d be happy, but no, they’ll save that for Friday when they can “pretend” to teach by way of talking football.
I set my books down on my desk and wait for class to start. Ms. Barnes walks in with bags under her eyes. Rough weekend for her, I’m gathering. A few of the guys snicker in class probably making assumptions about what she did, but I can’t be bothered. My eyes are focused on the courtyard next to my class. My girl is out there with her P.E. class doing yoga and slowly killing me. I don’t know what dog facing forward is but if that’s what she’s doing, we need to find some time to practice it together.
“Mr. Westbury, do you plan on joining us today?”
I turn at the sound of my name and find Ms. Barnes standing just to the side of me. She’s leaning toward me, her cleavage prevalent in my face. I guess I don’t have to assume why she has bags under her eyes. I smirk and shake my head before turning my gaze back out the window to watch Josie.
“Mr. Westbury, eyes forward please,” she commands as she walks away from me. I roll my eyes and keep my focus on the outside. It’s more entertaining and far more educational than whatever Ms. Barnes is going to teach us about globalization.
When Josie and her class start rolling their mats up a huge sigh washes over me. After staring at her in spandex for the last forty-five minutes, I’m ready to see her, to touch her. I look at the clock and count off the seconds until the bell rings. It will take me approximately a minute and a half to get across campus to her locker, piece of cake.