Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to come to an event with a woman. Then, I dismiss the idea immediately after I realize I love being free. I’m not tied down and have no plans of that happening anytime soon. I have too much on my plate for attachments or clingy girls, because I have had my share of clingers over the years.
Mark mumbles something about seeing me on Sunday night and retreats into the darkness. I don’t have time to respond before he’s gone.
Searching the crowd for someone who isn’t with a date, my eyes land on Clay and Bash, as they walk through the door with their girlfriends. Even with their masks on, I can tell them apart from the people around them. Big guys like us tend to stick out. Clay Summers is the starting quarterback for the Strickland Senators, and Sebastian Prince is our star running back. Both of them are shoe-ins for the NFL. As the son of a former NFL player, Bash has gotten a lot of attention from professional scouts. Clay has no shortage of interest from teams.
A few scouts have looked my way, but who knows what will happen. I screwed around too much to keep up with my grades and workout regimen. Coach is pissed. Bash and Clay are pissed. They all expect better from me. I should strive for better of myself. After I graduate, I will have nothing to look forward to other than working at the car dealership my uncle owns if I don’t get my shit together. I’m working on it or at least making an effort.
Coach forced me into a tutoring program last year in hopes that it would whip me back into shape. The tutors I’d had were not the best, and most of the time, I had no idea what they were talking about. I’m not stupid or too ignorant to learn. I just don’t care for school. It was never my thing.
Sitting through classes bores me enough to fall asleep through them, causing me to fall behind. My mom had wanted me to come home and register for online classes because she thought that would help me focus. But it’s school in general. When I envision my future, I see myself playing tight end for the Philadelphia Eagles alongside Clay and Bash—not working in an office. We’re not meant to become suits, working a nine-to-five schedule.
Clay spots me, despite the matching suit and mask my brothers and I don and raises his hand to get my attention. I push through the throng of girls in elegant dresses and men in suits, all of them keeping up with the theme. Luca has rules for this party. If you come with a date, then obviously they already know you. But, if you come solo, then you have to keep your mouth shut, never speak your name, and just go with the flow.
Works for me.
His idea was a good one, an idea he had come up with long before he had a serious girlfriend. But his devious plan still benefits me. I can hook up with any girl at this party, and neither of us can say a word about it. We will never know who we’re with, and I’ve always like that part of it. For once, I’d like to meet a girl who has no idea who I am. A girl who could care less than I’m Shawn Finch. A girl who doesn’t want me for something she thinks I can offer her—like a big, fat rock and a ticket to becoming another NFL trophy wife.
“What are you doing over here by yourself?” Bash asks, clamping a hand down on my shoulder. “By now, I would’ve thought you’d be taking advantage of tonight.”
I shrug. “I just came downstairs.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have thrown myself into the center of the dance floor and acted like the Finch everyone on campus knows, but school and football are weighing down on me hard. I know I’m fucking up big time. I know I need to get my shit together fast. Girls have taken a backseat to my real problems—because getting a girl to notice me was never one of them.
Clay slaps his hand on my back, almost knocking the wind out of me from the force, unaware of his strength. He greets me with a nod and says, “Let’s get a drink.”
I tip my head and motion toward the back of the house. With Tori at his side, Bash slips his fingers between hers and stalks off toward the kitchen with Clay and Jessica, the pair practically intertwined. At least when Mark is around, which is not often anymore, I have someone to shoot the shit with, while our friends shove their tongues down each other’s throats. Too bad he left. Jerk.
Once we reach the kitchen, the air is thinner and easier to breathe without all the heat radiating off the people gyrating to the loud techno music thumping through the speakers in the living room.
The floor still shakes beneath my feet, but at least I can hear Tori when she moves closer to me and says, “I invited someone here for you.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, I thought you could use a nice girl in your life.”
I chuckle to myself, a wicked grin forming on my lips. “I don’t need a nice girl or any girl for that matter.”
It’s the truth. I have too much shit going on in my life to give any more of myself than what I am already giving to football and my classes. Football practices and games alone are like a full-time job, let alone the heavy course load I had to take on so that I can graduate on time. Throw in Coach Davenport’s constant monitoring of my diet and exercise, or the fact I have to spend most days in the library with a tutor, and I have zero time left to spare.
My dad was never around when I was a kid. He never paid attention to my mother or me and moved out a few years before I left for college. It was as if his obligation to our family was over once I was old enough to fend for myself. But the selfish bastard also left my mother alone and with no one.
With me living away from home, I can’t hop on the train and be there in ten minutes if she needs me. So, I’d made her a promise before I left. Mom had begged me not to string someone along the way my father had her. She said when I find the right girl I’ll feel it, feel her in my skin and know that she’s the right one. To this day, I haven’t had that feeling she described with anyone.
“Seriously,” Bash says, leaning into me, “you should let Tori hook you up. She knows what she’s doing.”
More for my entertainment, I ask Tori about the girl she invited for me. Tori’s another scholarship kid, like me, and I’d always liked her because I can relate to her more than most of the people on campus. I’d told Bash for years after he’d lost her that he had to win her back. But she wouldn’t let him near her until a few months ago when a football accidentally hit her in the head, giving Tori a concussion and Bash a way back into her life.
Tori tucks a blonde curl behind her ear and flashes a bright smile. “Well, her name is Ella. She’s super smart, kind of a loner, but I think you’d like her.”
Acting like a typical guy, I ask, “Is she hot?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Of course you’d ask that.”
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“What else does he need to know, babe?” Bash says, as if reading my mind, and plants a kiss on her cheek.
Tori wipes it away, pretending to be disgusted, even though she’s far from it, and smiles up at Bash. “There are more important things than looks, you idiot.”