Spiked

“Really? Some guy just gave a really nice house to the football players?” I asked.

“Told you: Football is a way of life here. You know, it’s sort of a big deal that you’re even getting to come. Freshmen usually aren’t invited. But you’re with us, and you’re New Lily, so you’ve got an in,” Piper said, nudging Sasha. Piper then jutted her chin forward. “That’s it up ahead.”

My eyes widened.

I’d been expecting something really nice, but not something that belonged in a magazine. It was an enormous house, framed by tall buildings on either side— clearly a relic from when this part of Atlanta was more neighborhood than city. It sat high behind a brick wall, which gave it the appearance of a castle, and there were wraparound decks on each level. There didn’t appear to be any sort of driveway or garage— a fact which made me certain it had to have been built sometime around the 1920s— but there were tall wooden doors in the brick wall, which were nearly obscured by the white jasmine climbing alongside and over the entryway. The entire place glowed gold and white and thumped with music, but it didn’t have the drunken, dirty sort of feel that I had to admit I’d been expecting. A sign out front, surrounded by ornate landscaping, labeled it the McMillan Alumni Hall.

We walked across the street and up to the gates. This close, the jasmine smelled heady and thick, and the bass from the music boomed deep in my chest. Piper knocked on the door a few times; finally, someone swung it open.

“Hey, Tyler,” Piper said sweetly.

The big, six foot something guy gave her a friendly nod. “Hey Piper,” he said, grinning. His eyes fell on me, and he looked uneasy. “Who’s the new girl?”

“The New Lily. She’s with us,” Kiersten said.

“Um…let me check with the captains,” Tyler said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Come on. It’s one girl. And she’s adorable, isn’t she? Plus she’s new to Atlanta so she doesn’t know anything. It’s hella charming,” Piper said, stepping forward to twine her fingers around Tyler’s.

Tyler pressed his lips together, then glanced up the wide stone staircase behind him, which lead to the expansive front porch. “Okay. Yeah, it’ll be fine. New Lily, lay low, okay?”

“Sasha,” I corrected. “My name’s Sasha.”

“Sure,” Tyler said, still looking more than a little wary. The three of them brushed in.

“Is he going to get in trouble?” I whispered to Kiersten as we started up the steps.

“Maybe. But that’s sort of what he’s for. There’s a pecking order with the football team— captains, then seniors, then first string, then everyone else. Tyler’s an everyone else. Don’t sleep with him, by the way, or anyone else on his level. They’re cute, but once you’ve been with them, you’re practically damaged goods so far as the upperclassmen on the team are concerned.”

“I’m not really planning on sleeping with any of them, but I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, trying to not be offended by the phrase “damaged goods” and failing. And people think Tifton is backward.

Kiersten rolled her eyes. “Whatever. More of the good ones for me, then.”

“You…sleep with them?” I asked. We were nearly to the top of the stairs now, and the front porch was coming into view. There were elegant lawn chairs set up across it, most of which were occupied by boys in dress shirts and girls in outfits similar to mine and my suite mates’. There was a level of class to the whole thing, a sort of old school, swanky feel.

Kiersten shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Piper snorted. “Often,” she corrected, and then she and Kiersten both laughed. I laughed as well, trying my best to hide a fact that I was certain would horrify both of my suite mates: That I had never had sex. Not sometimes, not often.

Never.

It wasn’t a religious thing, or even a guilt thing. I’d just never met anyone in Tifton that I wanted to have sex with. Sure, I got turned on by the thought of someone’s hands on me, someone’s body against mine, someone in me, but then I’d inevitably see my crush swilling Bud Light and belching and suddenly, the idea of letting a Tifton boy near my was horrifying.

I’d never even really had a serious boyfriend— what was the point? I’d known ever since fifth grade that I was going to college and getting out of Tifton— better to not have ties. I had the same plan here, at Harton, since despite what my aunts and grandmother said through giggles, I had no desire to use college to get my MRS degree.

We were finally at the top of the staircase, Football House’s first level splayed out before us. There were massive windows that were thrown open, as were the doors. Inside were hardwood floors covered in fancy rugs, though aside from that, the house had clearly been modernized. There were Leather sofas, an enormous television, a series of video game systems, a long table covered in snacks, and an honest-to-God open bar.