Hard Hitter
“Oh, shut up,” I growl as we step outside. “I don’t want him to want me.”
“You’re right. You don’t have to,” she agrees. “He already does.”
“Do you really think so?” I ask. I’m curious. I can be curious, can’t I? Doesn’t mean I actually want him.
“I think he had a half a boner when he came to our room,” Martha laughs.
“That doesn’t mean he wants me,” I reply. “I mean – maybe he wants me, but he doesn’t want me want me.”
“Is someone paying you to say ‘want’ as many times as possible?” she asks. “Admit it, Emma. You’ve got a crush on him.”
“I do not!” I protest.
“Do too,” she laughs.
I sigh. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. He didn’t show up, so it’s a moot point.”
“Wow. It’s a good thing no one’s writing stories about you and the power of love.”
“What are you talking about?” I reply.
“The baseball team is having a huge party tonight to celebrate their win yesterday,” she says. “If you actually wanted to see him, you could just go show up.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t,” I reply. Martha doesn’t answer; she just gives me this look like a mom might give her daughter when she’s denying having a crush at school, and we walk in silence the rest of the way home.
Baseball team party? Yeah, right. Not a chance.
7
Jay
“Hell yeah!” everyone cheers as Alex – or is it Allison? – does a keg stand causing her neon-pink '80s skirt to flip up over her thighs. She’s wearing a black G-string and has a killer ass. Normally it’s the kind of thing that would get me going, but not tonight; tonight I’ve got my mind on other things.
Well, one other thing. My goddess. Emma.
I could have killed Coach for scheduling an emergency practice today. I was waiting all week for that figure-drawing class so I could see her again. She made it obvious she didn’t want me showing up unannounced at her dorm, so I spent the last four days doing something I’m not used to doing: waiting.
I haven’t waited for a girl in years – not since I first started hitting home runs at least. Hell, I haven’t even pursued a girl like that since high school. Why would I? They just come to me. Even just making the walk across campus to see her was a big deal for me; if only she knew that, maybe then she would have reacted differently.
“Doubt it,” I grumble as I take a sip of my beer. No, there’s something about Emma that I can’t quite figure out. She’s different. Or maybe I’m just reacting differently to her because she’s not fawning all over me like I’m used to.
Maybe that’s what I like about her.
It’s great to have hot chicks wanting to get into bed, but at the same time, I know it’s not going to lead to anything. It’s college fun – nothing more. My mom told me to watch out for “loose women,” as she put it, and my dad told me that any girl who tells you “no” is a keeper. I guess it wasn’t until right now that I realized what he was saying.
“She’s dtf, dude,” Rob whispers in my ear, eyeing the keg as Alex (or Allison) gets up and pulls her skirt down.
“Yeah, yeah.” I nod.
“What, you don’t want a piece of that?”
“Nah,” I reply, taking another sip. We’re celebrating our victory over Xavier, and normally I’d be going hard and looking for a wife-for-the-night, but even as I watch Alex/Allison twist her hips seductively while fixing her eyes on mine, I can’t help but wish I was somewhere else right now.
With her.
I set my cup down on the table and head inside, passing the DJ booth and a game of beer pong. The party’s being held at Chris’ apartment off-campus, and there’s basically a club’s worth of people dancing in the kitchen. A girl grabs my crotch as I’m threading my way through, but I just give her a slight wink and keep moving. Her friend laughs at her.
It’s quieter out on the front lawn; it has to be so no one calls the cops on us. A couple of guys cheer for me as I come out onto the steps. I give them a smile and a wave and walk up the sidewalk. I’m so not in the mood for partying.