Roughing

Chapter 1

Tori

Tonight is going to suck.

I can feel it in my bones as I run down Broad Street, toward the Strickland University football stadium. Our school lives and dies by football. Between the Philadelphia Eagles and our college teams, the city comes alive on game nights.

With the start of a new season, the air buzzes with electricity from the fans screaming in the distance. I’m not one of them. Football is not my thing. Neither is our star running back. At least that’s what I tell myself every time I run away from Bash. But he’s fast. Obviously. So, I don’t get far before he catches up to me, trying to plead his case for the thousandth time.

“C’mon, Tori,” Jessica yells, pulling on my shirt.

I slow my pace to check out a cute guy sitting on a bench in the Quad because I need a distraction for tonight. He was in one of my classes last year, though I can’t remember which one with how many I packed into my schedule so that I can graduate on time.

Jogging almost in place, I get up the nerve to raise my hand and wave to the boy who I think is Josh. Or maybe Justin. Either way, he’s hot. We can clear up the name situation later. Now that my senior year is finally beginning, I’m forcing myself to break out of my shell. This is a good start.

“Stop checking him out. We’re gonna be late,” Jessica whines.

I laugh at my best friend and roommate since freshman year and turn my head away from the hottie on the bench. “Let me ask him to come with us. Just hold on a second.”

She still has a good grip on the Strickland football baby tee that rides up my stomach, exposing some of my flesh. The shirt is too small for me. It was free, and since I’m not much of a football fan, I didn’t want to pay for it. So, I stuffed my curvy ass into this size small shirt that has my boobs popping out of the V-neck.

“We don’t have time. Let’s go! Clay will be pissed if I’m not in my usual seat at the start of the game, and I don’t feel like fighting with him tonight, of all nights.”

Shrugging her off, I smile at Josh-Justin as he waves in my direction. I return the gesture and hope we will run into each other again. Preferably before the party tonight.

“Fine,” I say to Jessica in a huff and jog next to her, dodging people on the street as we pass.

If I can find someone to bring along with us to the party, my senior year will be off to a better start. I need a buffer when I step into the house that holds so many bad memories. Not only is this game important, but so is the massive party the football team throws every year at their house. It’s the kind of invite you die to get. Because an invitation by a team member means you’re one of the elite, part of the inner circle of sports royalty on this campus. I know from experience.

Until Jessica had started dating Clay Summers last spring, I avoided football and anyone associated with it like the plague. My father is a big fan of the sport, but I loathe it because of one person. The boy who broke my heart freshman year. The asshole who also lives in the house I dread so much.

Darting through the courtyard, I spot another boy who has the potential to make my ex-boyfriend jealous. If I don’t find someone good-looking enough to bring to this stupid party, I will look like an ass. I can’t have Bash see me alone when I have no doubt he will have a swarm of women surrounding him. Or worse, he’ll try to talk to me, same as usual. Then, I’ll have to play the catch me if you can game, where I look for ways to evade his charms.

Jessica knows I have a legitimate concern about tonight, yet she still insists that I come along and put on a happy face. I have spent the last two years avoiding Bash. I only need to make it through the night.

Shuffling past returning students, we’re almost at the football stadium. Like most prestigious schools, Strickland University has the pristine shine of an Ivy League campus. From the people to the statues of famous Philadelphians, the place oozes perfection and wealth. I’m one of the few who is here on a scholarship. Unlike these trust fund babies, I didn’t grow up with money. And I almost lost all of it because of Bash.

Once we reach the gates, we stop to hold out our tickets to a man wearing a Strickland University polo shirt. He scans the bar code and says, “The game is already in progress. Be careful getting to your seats. You’re on the field.”

“Shit,” Jessica moans, frowning in my direction. “You just had to stop and stare at that guy, didn’t you?”

I snicker, now walking toward her, ignoring her previous comment. “You have a date to the party. I’m still looking for one in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget. How could I? You’ve only mentioned it to me a thousand times since you had agreed to come.”

I sling my purse over my shoulder and laugh. “Please. I haven’t been that bad.”

She peels strands of sweat-matted blonde hair from her face and shoves them behind her ears. “Yes, you have. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been driving me insane all week. After making it this long without speaking to Bash, you can make it through a game and a stupid jock party no problem.”

A ball chaser to the core, she’s wearing a replica of her boyfriend’s jersey and dark blue eye shadow to match the color of the shirt. The jersey is so tight it could fit a child. She paired it with strappy sandals that show off her perfectly tanned legs and jean shorts that ride up her ass. Our tastes are similar, except I don’t date athletes. Not anymore.

I was like her once. But

my relationship with Bash had only lasted a few months before the incident that ruined everything. He destroyed what we had and for what? Now, he’s the hot shit star of our football team and can get any girl he wants. Since our break up, I don’t think Bash has kept a girl around for more than a weekend if that. We were never meant to be together. Coming from different worlds, the two never meshed. It just took me longer to figure that out than him.

As the daughter of a former model, Jessica looks the part as the girlfriend of Clay Summers. She inherited her mother’s long lashes, perfect complexion, and rocking body. And, then there’s me. The artsy, giving zero fucks best friend who likes to dance in the Quad when it rains and do plenty of odd things that have made me an outcast at events like the one I have to attend tonight. I don’t fit in with these people. Never did.

Jessica tugs on my hand, dragging me through the crowd of screaming fans. The stadium is on fire, brought to life by the energy of the people around us. Making our way through the throng, we start jogging again when Jessica hears Clay’s name over the loud speaker.