Page 89 of End Game

The bus lurches and we’re on our way to Connecticut. The travel weekend has a rhythm to it: pack up, bus ride, arrive; team dinner, review plays, get a good night’s rest; wake up early, breakfast, stretch, treatment, lunch, prepare for the game; play the actual game; and then we shower, change, shove all the food in sight into our face holes, and then prepare to return home, either that day or the next day depending on how late our game is scheduled to run.

It’s over almost as soon as it begins, and at the same time, it feels like it lasts forever.

These are the days I’m going to look back on fondly, the defining moments of my college experience. While my future career might involve travel, it won’t be with all of my brothers en route to a physical contest. While I might spend time with friends, it won’t be with the men who have become my family over the years.

When we pull into the hotel, the guys push and shove to be the first off the bus. Once we’re all free and clear and breathing fresh air again, we grab bags from beneath the bus and start organizing all of the luggage, leaving the equipment stowed.

The room assignments tell me I’m bunking with Miles tonight. He’s a good roommate. Quiet. Keeps to himself. Aside from his nightly phone call with Sam—which I generally pretend not to overhear, locking myself in the bathroom or taking a walk through the hotel hallways for half an hour—he doesn’t brag and throw it in my face that he has a steady girlfriend who loves him and I have my right hand and a best friend who won’t give me the time of day.

Team dinner is a loud, raucous affair. I sit with my roommates, same as usual. We generally keep to ourselves. The quarterbacks are assholes and the running backs think they’re hot shit. The wide receivers and tight ends are party animals. Offense in general is full of douchebags.

The defensive squadron is tight-knit. I can tolerate Sullivan and the group of freshmen minions he’s corrupted well enough. The cornerbacks and safeties are loud and brash. They think they’re the most popular guys on the team, when the truth is, nobody knows who any of us are. It’s something our group of reclusive defensive linemen actually enjoy about our position. When we’re hunkered down on the line and getting ready for the snap, nobody knows who we are: we’re just a mass of navy blue, black, and silver uniforms, each of us indistinguishable from the next.

After dinner, we have the opportunity to hang out in the team room and watch a movie, or gather in one of the left tackle’s rooms to play video games. Normally I’m all about that. Tonight, though, I opt out.

I want to call Diana. I want to talk to her, to clear the air. I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. I’m about ten seconds away from blurting out my feelings for her in the most obnoxious and tone-deaf manner possible. It’s bursting up inside of me. For so long, I’ve had to keep my feelings hidden. For so long, I’ve had to pretend like everything is fine. It’s not fine.

Chapter 26

Diana

Barrett has been more clingy than usual, and I don’t think I’m the only one that’s noticed. Emma referred to him as my boyfriend—as in, what is your boyfriend up to this weekend while we’re on the road—and Sam keeps giving me mysterious smiles whenever I run into her on campus. He’s definitely more tactile lately, and twice he’s referred to our normal plans together as dates. The first time, it didn’t bother me. The second time… yeah, something is definitely up there.

What I can’t decide is if it bothers me. Does he actually think we’re dating? No, we’d probably have to talk about it, and from his reaction when I subtly hinted I wanted to be friends with benefits… yeah, no. It’s clear he has no intention whatsoever on going down that road.

Is it just because we’re finally in the same place at the same time? Physically, at least. We’re not separated by half a state or an entire country between us anymore. Now we’re three blocks from one another and we can see each other pretty much as often as we want to, schedules permitting. We spend time together after our games and in the evenings and on the weekends, we’ve gone to two parties and we’ve hung out in his room. We spend plenty of quality time together.

Lately there’s been something different between us, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Is it because we have slept together in the same bed? What am I supposed to do, insist on taking the occupied couch or sleep on the floor? We’re grown adults; we should be able to handle sleeping in the same bed for some platonic cuddling. Is it because I had that sex dream about him? I don’t think he even noticed I was on the brink of coming with him in the bed beside me.

Whatever it is, Barrett is acting more… proprietary isn’t the right word. He’s definitely more protective, making sure I’m eating and happy and warm, lending me his sweatshirt or grabbing a snack from the dining hall to meet me between classes. He’s been putting his arm around me more and more, occasionally even holding my hand. All of this coming from a guy who could barely stand to touch me the last time I saw him before we went away to college… he couldn’t even give me a hug goodbye before I left for USC.

And now he’s all over me. It should be weird. It is a little weird. But it’s also strangely comforting. I know he’s not trying to grope me or take advantage of me. It’s almost like he’s decided we should be a couple and, instead of asking me for my opinion, has simply started to go for it.

Because if he asked me… I’m not sure what I’d say. I like Barrett. He’s my best friend. I’ve definitely had a crush on him in the past, and I’ve had more than one sex dream about him over the years.

But date him? Do I want to date my best friend? If it all blows up, I’d be losing both my boyfriend and the person who makes my whole world make sense, and I don’t know that I’d be able to handle that.

Does that make me selfish? I love Barrett, I love spending time with him and I love what we share. I don’t want that to change. Just because he’s seemingly decided he wants more from me doesn’t mean I want it, too. And I don’t know that I’m capable of giving him what he wants.

My nerves are already fraying at the seams. Between dealing with Johanna and her bullshit, trying to navigate school and applying to grad schools within a reasonable geographical area, and my dad’s terminal illness… I don’t think I have the emotional bandwidth to start any sort of romantic relationship. And I can’t ask anyone else to shoulder the work on my behalf.

I’ve never had a real relationship, but I know it takes work and dedication on both parties’ behalf, and I don’t know that I have the time or mental energy to spare right now. Sam and Mason have made that clear. My mom has made that clear. Relationships take work, and if I can’t put in the work now, I don’t know that I’m ready for one.

And then there’s the fact that this is Barrett. He’s been my best friend since we were eight years old. Barrett was right when he talked about how our friendship has survived so many trials and tribulations over the years: puberty, period stains on white shorts, cracking voices, buying tampons, inappropriately timed boners, and more. First crushes and first kisses and first everything.

For years I’ve tried to deny that I’m attracted to my best friend. He’s gorgeous. I’ve always known that. He’s a genuinely good person, he’s fun to be around, and he makes me laugh. And then add in the sex dreams I’ve had about him, and the time he grabbed my boob in his sleep… Yeah, it’s not hard to put it all together. My best friend is hot. And when he’s wearing those tight football pants, the stretchy white fabric accentuating everything about him… yeah, that’s not half bad to look at, either.

But even if I’m reading all of his signals right… do I want to date him? I honestly don’t know. His family hates me. Sure, Dougie and I get along fine, but I know how important his parents’ opinion is to him. We come from two very different worlds, and I definitely don’t fit into his pretty, perfect life. His mom probably wants him to get with someone who’s marriage material, and that’s definitely not me. His dad probably wants him to get with someone who has a trust fund, and that’s definitely not me.

What we have is good. We’re in a good place right now. For the first time, we’re living in the same place, and now we’re making plans to live together after graduation. If I get into Northeastern, my holy grail grad school, it will all work out. He’ll be a quick train ride from the South End to the Financial District, where his family’s business is located. I can take an easy train back to Amherst to visit my family—or, if I agree to his asinine plan, he can drive me home.

Of course, this is all predicated on me both getting into Northeastern’s exclusive Applied Nutrition program and receiving a substantial financial aid package from them.

So I’m not going to count my chickens before they hatch. I have a few other schools on my short list, and if I don’t get into any of them, I can take a year off and volunteer and retake my GRE and strengthen my application. Sure, Northeastern is basically my dream school and the best option for me, but it’s not the be all end all program. I have options.

When it comes to Barrett, though… I’m not so sure I have options. I love him—as a friend. Is he hot as fuck? Do I want to sleep with him? Yeah, I think so. But do I want to take that step? I honestly don’t know. I’m not even sure if I’m reading all the signals right.

My bus pulls into campus late Sunday afternoon. My whole body aches with the kind of bone weary exhaustion that comes from a healthy dose of exercise. I left everything on the field this morning. We didn’t win, but it wasn’t for lack of trying on my part. The lone goal scored today happened while I was sitting on the sidelines, and a small part of me thinks that if I was on the field instead of Terri, I might have been able to stop it.