Rules of Play (The Script Club 2)

An hour later, I was still trying to puzzle that one out. My place was out of the question. I lived in an old apartment complex with limited parking. Simon was in the midst of a remodel, but he had an actual house with a real driveway.

Yep, he was definitely my best bet.

I drove across town to Simon and Topher’s new house, pulling my truck behind a giant garbage bin. I slipped a plaid shirt over a plain white T-shirt before scouting out the garage situation.

“Yo, are you trespassing?” Simon called in greeting from the front porch of the light-gray bungalow.

“Thought I’d see what’s going on with this dump.” I scanned the freshly painted exterior and new window. “Not so dumpy anymore. It’s looking good.”

Simon met me on the walkway, offering a fist bump and his signature wide grin. He was six five with dark hair, brown eyes, a chiseled jaw, and the muscular physique of a former NFL player. Simon was the kind of handsome that turned heads. No kidding. The best thing about him was that he didn’t seem to notice.

It was almost funny. Girls had flocked to him when we were teenagers, but he’d never paid anyone much attention. Even the occasional girlfriend had never lasted long. Football had always come first…until Topher. They were the least likely couple I’d ever met. Simon was a jock and Toph was a true geek. Geekier than George by a long shot, and I hadn’t thought that was possible.

But he made Simon happy. I’d known Si since junior high, and I could honestly say I’d never seen him so…content and sure of himself.

“Thanks. What are you up to?” Simon asked, pulling the sleeves of his blue V-neck sweater down his arms to ward off the late afternoon chill.

“Not much. I finished up early today and I was in the neighborhood,” I replied, going with a truth and a lie.

“You were here a few weeks ago, right? The contractor just finished putting the flooring in today. I was given strict instructions not to walk on it for three days or I’d give you a tour of—”

“That’s okay. I’ll be back…with beer.” I gestured toward the long driveway to the left of the house. “Truth is, I came by to see your garage.”

I chuckled at his confused expression before giving him a brief rundown of George’s Bronco situation and my ideas for cutting costs. I made it sound like finding an alternate space to do the repairs would save money, but I wasn’t surprised that Simon didn’t buy it.

“That seems weird.” He scrunched his brow in confusion, then cocked his head. “Did George tell you he couldn’t afford repairs?”

“Let’s just say he probably won’t be able to afford what my uncle wants to charge him.”

His face fell for a beat. “Oh. Your uncle’s a dick.”

“Yeah, I know. I can do the repairs on the side myself. I just need a spot to work.”

Simon waved dismissively. “Tell me how much it is, and I’ll take care of it. You don’t need the hassle.”

“That’s okay,” I said quickly…maybe too quickly. I continued in a more casual tone. “You know George would get pissed if you paid his bill. And we have something worked out.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I could use his analytical brain to check my math.”

Simon’s incredulous expression didn’t waver, even after I reminded him of the course I was taking. “You’re trading repairs for a baseball analysis check?”

“We’re bartering time, that’s all. Why do you look so suspicious?”

“Surprised, not suspicious,” he corrected. “I wouldn’t think either of you would want to spend that kind of time together.”

“Why not? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Simon scratched his temple thoughtfully. “Hey, since you’re helping George…let me help you.”

“How?”

“I’ve got connections, and you’re going to be looking for a job when you finish that last class, right?”

“Right. But you played professional football. Who do you know in college baseball?”

“I’m currently a student at US-fucking-C,” he bragged.

“You’re a psych major, Si.”

“I changed my major to business, asshole, but that’s not the point. I still have friends in the athletic department. I’m on decent terms with my old agent too. Ryan might be able to help you score an interview or two.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There’s no guarantee they’ll have a job, but at the very least you’d get your name out there.”

I grinned. “Wow. All right. That’s awesome. Thanks.”

He punched my biceps playfully, then hooked his thumb behind him. “C’mon, I’ll show you the backyard. Toph and I are planting a veggie garden. Lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers…”

I listened with half an ear, humming every so often while my mind ricocheted at the possibility of finding a job in baseball sooner rather than later. I was still a good couple of months away from making any real changes in my life, but this was going to happen. I could feel it. I just had to be patient, work hard, stay focused, and ideally…stay out of trouble.