Page 9 of One More Dare
The version of Will Carter I’d built up in my head over twoyears was assembled from two bad moments and a lot of assumptions. I guess I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge him, and continuing to be so upset years later does seem like a lot of effort for me.
I shrug. “Will, it was two years ago. I eventually got another bike. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is, though. I can’t believe I did that. I absolutely need to make it up to you. I won’t be able to stop thinking about it until I do.”
“Dramatic, much?” I tease, but I’m smiling a little when I say it. It’s clear to me now that Will didn’t run over my bike on purpose. He was just careless and in a hurry.
“I really am going to do everything in my power to make it up to you. You just wait and see, Porter. I’ll make you forget the bike incident ever even happened,” he promises.
“You sure you want to make a promise like that?”
“Positive.”
I smile despite myself. There’s something different about this interaction with him. It’s playful, easier than I expected and than I wanted it to be. It would’ve been simpler if he’d stayed exactly who I thought he was. If I could hate him from a distance and write him off as an asshole.
But this interaction is making me realize there’s more to Will Carter than shitty first impressions.
“I’ll text you about this week,” he says finally when I don’t respond.
“Yeah, okay,” I agree. “See ya.”
“Be prepared, Porter. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
I turn and walk away first with a wave over my shoulder. I don’t look back, but I’m still smiling when I round the corner to hop on my bike to head home.
6
WILL
“Wings at Scooters, I’m buying,” I shout over the noise of the locker room. We just finished our final practice before our first game, and I think a little team bonding off the field is exactly what we need. Scooters is one of the few restaurants near campus that can easily accommodate a group of our size without warning, plus I love their wings, so it’s the obvious choice.
“Hell yeah! Best captain ever.” Cam claps my back as he walks past me to his locker.
“You know I got you, bro.”
I pull my phone out of my locker and shoot a quick text to my parents just to give them the heads up.
Will
Taking the team out for dinner at Scooters
Mom
Have a great time!
Dad
Youboys have fun
I smile as I tell them I love them and set my phone down. My parents have always been generous people. They’re successful entrepreneurs. What started as my mom teaching yoga videos online turned into a huge following. Now they have an online shop that does hundreds, if not thousands, of orders a day. They also built a wellness retreat center that has hot tubs, cold plunges, saunas, steam rooms, and guided classes. People buy day passes and have to leave their phones in the locker room for a completely disconnected day. It’s awesome.
My parents are super affectionate, touchy-feely people, so I grew up thinking that was normal. Turns out it’s not, especially not in sports. Talking about feelings, hugging, and the things my borderline-hippie parents encouraged at home? Yeah, those things earned me some really weird looks and mean comments from other guys growing up, so I learned to shut that shit down fast. Paying for things has always been an easy way for me to express my gratitude for my friendships in a way that’s well received.
But I’ve also been thinking a lot about money since Porter and I talked about entitlement last week. The truth is, I don’t really know the financial situation of any of the other guys on the team. Even with my roommates, we rarely talk about finances. Now I can’t help but look around the room and wonder if any of them are worried about money. When guys would turn down the invite to go out to eat last year after practice, was it because they didn’t want to pay?
I’d hope that my friends would tell me if they were stressed about money, but we tend to stick to talking about lacrosse, school, or hookups. I’m not sure when something more serious like that would even come up. It also feels rude of me to ask, so I figured paying for everyone makes the most sense.
Taking care of people comes naturally to me, I’ve watched my parents do it nearly every day. They give and give, and I’dlike to think I do the same, which is why the memory of what I did to Porter and his bike stings so badly. Being that careless was unlike me, but I was still new on the team and stressed about being late to the meeting—I’m never late.
