Chapter 19: Dances and gifts - Cole

Monet beams up at me, her face radiating, taking me back to when we were kids and she used to look at me like I was her hero.

I was no fucking hero of course. I was a hurt little boy who were plagued by nightmares almost every night. She never seemed to care about that. If she was hurt, she would cry to me, expecting me to fix it. I always tried to make her feel better, and whatever I did always worked.

I know we probably look ridiculous on the dance floor just swaying side to side, and the guys on the team are going to rip me a new one, but her hand is clutched in mine, and my other hand is wrapped around her small middle, and getting to touch her is worth all the jokes they make.

I'm going out of material to watch to aid my obsession. Everything is just old now. I need something new and fresh, before the opening game on Saturday. If I don't get my fix soon, my game might be off.

The song ends, and everyone stops to applaud the band, weird rich people shit that I never understand, but what do I know?

Money has become important to me, but only because I want to take care of my family. I want Kamila to leave her job as a teacher and focus on her art, something she gave up when she became a single parent to Monet and me. And I want Monet to be able to buy things without having to worry where the money comes from.

She's smart, though, I know that she will be able to take care of herself someday, but I still have this need to be the one to provide for her. It's old fashoned, I know, but I feel like I owe her and Kamila my life. If they didn't come into it, I'd probably not be the man standing here tonight with people wanting to talk to me and invest money into me.

"Would you dance with me?" Stacey asks greedily when I lead Monet off the dance floor.

"No, I don't dance." I say smoothly, her eyes almost bugging out of her head because I just got off the dance floor. Not that one can call that dancing anyway.

It's time I cut Stacey loose, she's been a great lay since school started, but she's becoming clingy. Girls have been trying to become my girlfriend since I started school here, even when I wasn't on the roster playing yet, and I have been indulging.

Everyone knows the rules, I tell it to them when they start flirting with me. I fuck, and I fuck hard. If you can't handle that, don't come knocking on my door. They usually always come knocking on my door like starved animals. I don't kiss, so don't try to kiss me. Kissing is intimate, and I reserve that for someone special. I'll eat out your pussy until you beg for my dick, but that's the only place my lips go. My last rule is, nobody touches my condoms. I fuck with condoms I bought myself, I put it on myself and I get rid of it myself. These girls are fucking sick in their heads, trying to get pregnant with your baby if they thnk you have a shot of going pro. They all want to live the WAG lifestyle, and if they think you can take them there, they do shit to trap you.

I watch Monet joining Amy, who looks like she's on the verge of throwing Ray with the glass in her hand who is hanging off Luke like a coat. He's taken my advice, and started fucking the girl to try and stay away from Amy.

Coach determines our whole future, getting involved with his daughter would be stupid and a career suicide. I smile and make small talk with who I'm supposed to, and I'm relieved when the night is over and nd I can drop Stacey off at her sorority house and catch a breather. I watch old footage of my girl on my phone while jacking off.

In the video she has a towel around her body, her long hair wet and almost hanging down until it touches her ass. She has the most beautiful hair. Everything about her is like a siren calling out to me, like God himself watched all the fantasies in my head and created her. She opens her closet door in the video, and the towel drops while cum sprays all over my hand.

Of all the girls I fucked so far, nobody has the body she has. It is utter perfection.

I go to bed feeling so much lighter, knowing that I need to do something in the morning to get fresh footage, just to give me that extra edge.

I skip classes the next day, something my professors wouldn't mind, although it's something that I don't usually do. Graduating college is something that's important to Kamila, so I spent my red shirted year doing as many credits for my finance degree as possible. I will graduate, even if I'm trying to go pro, if only to see the smile on her face as I walk across that stage.

When I enter the jewelry store, the shop assistant almost jumps to help me. In this city, football is king, and you're pretty much royalty if you're on the team.

"Mr. Brown, what can we help you with?" She blushes at me, and I refrain from sighing.

"I would like to purchase a pair of pearl earrings pleae."

"Oh, what a lucky lady." She smiles.

"I'm the lucky one." I wait until she takes out the pearl selection, and show her which pair I want.

"Those ones are one-thousand-nine-hundred dollars." She widens her eyes at me, but I take out my card and pay without blinking.

I know Monet would be in class, she never skips, not even when she's sick, so I drive over to her dorm, ready to charm the person in charge of the keycards to open the door for me. Again, being a football player here has all the perks, and the lady even gives me my own keycard to access her room. It should be an invasion of privacy and probably violates all the rules, but here I am standing in her room, her side obvious with art against the wall that Kamila painted. The quilt on the bed has pictures of us growing up, and I stroke over the print of her face when she was about ten years old.

I leave the pearls on her pillow with a little note, and I do what I really came in here to do.

I'm going to win on Saturday, immortalising my name in the history of this school forever.