The Tight End (Red's Tavern 6)

“Good, then. And I hope you don’t mind me calling you Professor. And my crazy friends, now, too, apparently.”

“It’s a little weird, but I don’t mind,” he said with a shrug.

“I can stop calling you that, if you want.”

His eyes widened just for a moment. “No,” he said. “I kind of like that, too.”

“Bryant! You’re a fucking rock star!” another voice shouted out from over the music, and a moment later, another pair of arms was wrapping around me.

The next fifteen minutes were more of the same. Every time I thought I’d have a moment alone with Logan to show him around his first frat party, somebody else would come at me with hugs and congratulations after the win tonight.

But it felt good. After such a shitty start to the season, it was a massive relief to feel like I was back in my element, making clutch plays so that the Wolves could pull through in the fourth quarter.

Eventually Mike came back with drinks for me and Logan. I took the shot of whiskey and then nursed a beer as I finally took Logan around the house, showing him all of the familiar sights: the beer pong table, the big pool out back, the long rows of rooms upstairs he’d want to avoid and the ones that were always welcoming.

I put my hand on the small of Logan’s back as I walked him down one of the hallways upstairs.

“This room in particular is one to remember,” I said, showing him one of the doors near the end of the hallway. “Jason Bikavian’s been in the frat all four years. He designated this linen closet as a first-aid center. If anybody gets hurt at a party, this is where to come. There’s bandages, gauze, sanitizer, everything you’d need. Including jars of pickles to get your electrolytes up.”

“Good to know,” Logan said. “And sweet of him to think ahead. I always thought all frat guys were…”

“Kinda shitty people?”

Logan looked at the ground. “I feel bad for stereotyping, but yeah.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “There are a lot of bad apples out there. But this house is somewhere you should feel comfortable. The guys really are good hearted. I wouldn’t come here if they weren’t.”

As we walked back out to the yard again, we crossed over to the fire pit beside the pool, which was always a prime hangout spot during parties. I felt another tap on my shoulder and when I turned around, I saw one of my old friends, Charlie Heller, smiling at me.

“Charlie,” I said, lighting up as I leaned in to give him a hug. “It’s been years.”

“It’s so good to see you, Brody,” he said, squeezing me tight.

Charlie had been a friend of mine in freshman year. We’d both been into football and had spent plenty of Sundays in the lounge together, arguing over who was the best tight end in the professional league. At the end of our first year of college, Charlie had transferred to another school a couple of hours east of us. We were set to go there next week for our next away game.

“Charlie, this is my friend Logan. He’s my housemate this year,” I said, gesturing to Logan beside me.

I realized immediately that Logan had a slack-jawed look on his face, even more than usual.

“Hi, Charlie,” he said.

Charlie suddenly looked spooked, too. Like he’d seen a ghost. Charlie was always a very chilled out person. I’d never seen him look like this before.

“Logan,” he said, reaching out to give him a fist bump.

“Wait,” I said. “What’s going on here? Am I missing something?”

“Uh,” Charlie said, still looking at Logan.

“Charlie and I went to high school together,” Logan said. He’d looked increasingly comfortable all night, but now, his usual social-panic face was back in full swing.

“It was a long time ago,” Charlie said, finally looking away from Logan and back to me. “Anyway, I watched you play tonight. You’re better than ever, Bryant. Making me nervous for next week, I’ll tell you that much.”

I was way too preoccupied with Logan’s weird interaction to pay much attention to Charlie, though. In my peripheral vision, I saw Logan down the rest of his whiskey and coke in one big gulp before he took off back toward the inside of the house, heading for the kitchen. My eyes followed Logan like I was watching an escaped animal. I didn’t want to let him out of my sight.

What the hell was going on between him and Charlie?

Charlie was being nice enough, talking to me about how his senior year was going. I couldn’t just bolt and follow Logan, but something was telling me that things weren’t exactly right.

I was saved when Vance and Mike headed into the backyard and came over to check in with Charlie. I made my escape as they dove into a conversation about tonight’s game, and I went to look for Logan in the kitchen.