Caleb.
Coach has been pushing us after our loss last week. Brutal. Four guys already puked on the sidelines today—overexertion, heat, and eating too much before practice will get you every time. I ate a granola bar and a banana hours ago. Both threatened to reappear at least twice during practice. I’ve already poured a bottle of water over my head to cool down. I’m taking small sips of Gatorade, hoping I won’t join the others. As a rookie, you get razzed hard for stupid mistakes like losing your lunch on the forty-yard line.
Everest stands twenty yards downfield, cramming jelly-filled donuts in his maw while supervising newbies hurling along the sidelines during freshman practice.
We make eye contact, and I flip him off.
He shoots me a purple-colored smile.
Hard to believe that off the field Everest is a freaking genius with computers. If we hadn’t nicknamed him the Mountain, he would have been Nerd.
We face New Mexico Saturday night, and we need this win. It will be another intense battle on our home field. This season, New Mexico’s defensive line is harder to cut through than a two-dollar steak. Our offense will have to fight their way through the line for every freaking yard. Right now, I’m focused on getting through practice without decorating my cleats with vomit.
An hour later, I head to the showers, drenched in sweat. I didn’t hurl on the field, which I’m claiming as a victory on my personal scoreboard. I want to spend ten minutes under an ice-cold shower to help revive my aching, exhausted body. I need to keep moving or my muscles will revolt and spasm. Shower first, then food. Maybe after I grab chow, I’ll try to stretch and go for a light jog. Right now? Unnecessary movement has me almost begging for mercy.
Faith is on my mind. I shower and sketch out a plan for our date on Sunday while I dress. I’d like to take her to the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz first. We’ll head into Capitola later. I like walking along the sand there. Give her a chance to dip her toes in the Pacific.
Part of me wonders if starting something with her will be an exercise in futility. She’s hot, but skeptical. My gut says she might be incapable of trust, which means I’ll have to sprint far away. Not yet, but it’s an option I’ll have to consider if and when.
I exit the locker room trying to decide if I want to use my meal card or hit up Ike’s Lair. I power on my phone and read a text from Ty sent ten minutes ago. He’s in the neighborhood and wants to meet for food. I reply in the affirmative, tell him to meet me at Ike’s, and give him the address.
Fifteen minutes later, I walk into the restaurant, scan the space to see if Ty has arrived, and see Faith’s friend on his own at a table near the back. Small effing world. He makes eye contact and nods. I nod back.
The door to the shop opens behind me, and Ty steps inside. I ask, “Doesn’t De Anza have football practice today?”
Ty’s wearing his work clothes—black pants, white button-down shirt. “After lifting, we focused on film today. My professor recommended me for a tutoring position in this area. Bellarmine student, having issues with calculus. Parents want to nip the grade slide in the bud. They’ll pay me twenty-five dollars an hour to help the kid out of his slump.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah, the pay is good. Kid is shy, but smart. It’ll work out. Parents already said yes, if I’m interested. I am.” He looks around the place, then back at me. “Man, you look beat.”
“We just finished practice. Coach proved his point. That’s four hours I’ll never get back.”
“Better you than me. What’s good here?”
“Everything,” I say, “I’m in the mood for the cheesesteak.”
Ty orders the same when we reach the counter. A few minutes later, with sandwiches in hand, we try to find an open spot. Beau catches my attention and waves us over. “Take my table, I’m heading out.”
“Thanks, man.” I introduce Beau to Ty. Their eye contact doesn’t break for about ten seconds after they shake hands.
Ty cocks his head. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
Beau answers, “Nope.” He grabs his laptop from the table. “Nice to meet you. Enjoy your lunch.”
As Beau walks out the door, Ty snaps his fingers. “Son of a bitch. I remember him now. Fresno State football camp. Jesus, it’s been nearly eighteen months since it happened. My parents shared the article with me at the time. That was fucked up.”
I remember the story now, too. “Yeah, poor bastard. His body damaged, and his parents dead. The accident stole almost everything from him.”
“I can’t imagine it…” Ty shakes his head.
We sit. “He’s a friend of Faith’s.”
“And Faith is…?”
“Fantasy girl.”
“No shit? Fantasy girl and The Beast are friends?” Ty sets his sandwich down on the table. “Those six degrees of separation are always in play. When will I meet her? You do realize this is the first time since we’ve been friends that I haven’t met the girl you’re obsessing over.”
“True.” I pause to think about it while unwrapping my sandwich. “Weird. How about you? How’s football? I need to catch up on your last two games. I know the outcome, but do you still have the film?”
Ty nods.
“Cool. We’ll watch your game tonight. I miss being on the same sideline.”
“We knew we played our last game together, but it still gets me. Big difference catching them on Hudl.”
Ty sips his drink. “What’s the latest on Fantasy Faith? Did you work your magic? Get her to go out with you, even though she’s avoiding the penis?”
I laugh. “She’s hanging out with Beau. Can’t be total penile avoidance.”
Ty points his index finger at me. “Maybe he’s a shield? Acts like her personal cock-blocker. I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”
I do a double take. “What? Why do you say that?”
He shrugs. “Eye contact between us went on a beat too long.”
“Interesting. I did get her to hang out with me. We met at Iguana’s last night.” I tell Ty about last night and our plans for Sunday.
“Cool. Gotta ask, on a scale of one to ten, where do you place this girl on your greatest hits list?”
“Ty, she’s out of the park.”
He whistles. “Where? Did she clear the fence? Rolling around in the parking lot?”
I point at the ceiling with the remaining half of my sandwich. “The ball remains airborne and climbing.”
Ty picks up his own sandwich again, takes a bite, chews, and swallows. “Good for you. I can’t recall any girl ever rating that high for you.”
“Wait until you meet her. She’s something else.”
The next afternoon I’m heading toward the field when I hear Gabe call out.
“Hey, Caleb. Hold up.”
I turn around and wait for Gabe to reach me. I can’t quite equate what he’s doing to catch up with me with running—more like skipping—and I shake my head. Poor dude. He’ll never get laid. I say, “Hurry, I’m running late to conditioning.”
He reaches me but can’t speak for being out of breath. No time for this, so I head toward our locker room. Gabe gasps, “I have a message for you from the hottest girl ever.”
My mind skips to Faith, but I know Gabe wouldn’t describe her that way. He already lost me. “Zero interest in messages from girls I don’t know.”
“But you do know her. Slow down. I can’t breathe.”
Probably a groupie. “If I’m late, Coach will make me sprint two miles. Not worth it.”
Gabe run-walks to keep up and sputters, “Dana said you’ll want to hear this.”
I stop. She’s going after Gabe to get to me. Fuck. “How do you know Dana?”
“She found out we’re friends.”
I’m pissed and start walking again. She’s hitting up anyone in my orbit. “What’s the message?” I ask flatly.
“She wants to meet at your place.” He wheezes. “Said she’ll make it worth your time. Lucky bastard.”
I don’t feel lucky. In fact, I’m angry. Sick to death of Dana’s attempts to get to me. “If you run into her, tell her I said to leave me the fuck alone.”
“Come on, Caleb. Don’t make me repeat that garbage to a gorgeous girl.”
“Believe me when I say she’s trouble. Use your own words but tell her I’m done. No more texts. No calls. She no longer exists in my world.”