25
Liam
––––––––
“Is this team fucking serious?” Zach kicks at a locker room trash can on game day. “They purposely turned off all the water on our side! What the fuck are we supposed to drink? And where are the goddamn towels?”
“Language, Zach! Our coach says, stepping into the locker room. He walks around the space, testing out all the water fountains, realizing that none of them work. Not only that, but it’s customary for the home team to provide a supply of bottled water, practice balls, and towels, and Bartlett has left nothing. And according to their coach, “someone must’ve stolen it” right before we got there. (Oh, and the air conditioning is conveniently out of order in our locker room as well.)
“Ugh.” Zach slumps down on a bench. “Why the fuck do they find something new and stupid to do to us every time we play them? Do they really think that will help their sorry asses win?”
“Zach!” Coach calls again. “Language! Now, everyone huddle up. Right now.” He waits until we’re all standing around him. “Now, look. Off the record, I hate playing these motherfuckers as much as you do. I think their coach is full of shit, the players don’t know their heads from their asses, and their strict ass principal is a spineless bastard.”
Silence.
“That said, this is the last time we’ll have to play these fuckers for the next few years and this is the last game standing in the way of a perfect season and the championship tournament. Are we really going to bitch about towels and water?” He smiles at Zach. “Win this goddamn game for BH and I’ll suspend curfew and the coed rules tonight. I’ll also deny the hell out of ever saying that, if any one of you snitches on me.” He claps his hands. “BH on one, two, three!”
“BH!” Everyone says in unison, and then we all burst into laughter. Coach has a way of giving the worst, profanity laced speeches that seem to somehow work, regardless of their insanity.
I take off my warm up suit and stuff it into my bag, sending a quick text to Mariah before heading out to the gym.
––––––––
Me: Save me a chocolate truffle for when I get back.
Mariah: I’ll think about it :-) (Good luck!)
Me: I’ll take two, then. (Thank you. I’ll call you after we win.)
***
It takes all of two quarters for us to build a forty-point lead over Bartlett, so Coach lets the bench players finish off the second half of the game. (They take the lead to sixty.) By the time the game is over, the scoreboard reads 114-54, and the majority of their team’s fans are long gone. Even the van of reporters who followed our bus to the game left after halftime.
When the referees clear the court, we line up to shake hands with Bartlett’s team, but to our surprise, Coach tells us not to bother. He orders us to retrieve our sweat-suits from the locker room and head to the bus, but not before walking right up to Bartlett’s head coach and yelling, “FUCK YOU!” in front of everyone.
On the bus, I collapse in a seat near the front and Ashley immediately plops down right next to me.
“Liam, look,” she says, looking somewhat genuine. “Can you talk to me, for like, five minutes?”
“Nope.” I stand and climb over the seats, finding a space next to our assistant coach.
“Did I just see you climb over the seats that we just paid a ton to get reupholstered, Liam?”
“No, that wasn’t me. I would never.”
He laughs and shakes his head, returning to his phone.
I pull out my own phone to text Mariah, but there are several messages from Zach.
––––––––
Zach: No curfew. No coed rule.
Zach: No Coach sleeping out in the hallway to “monitor” things ...
Zach: Do you know what that means?
Me: That I’ll probably get some sleep, since everyone will be out being stupid?
Zach: You’re a goddamn buzzkill. Is this about your secret GF? Does she not like you partying if she’s not there with you?
Me: She doesn’t like **your** type of partying.
Zach: Understandable LOL. Enjoy your night cramped up in the room while we all party in Jason’s suite. #307 if you change your mind at some point tonight.
Me: Thanks, but I’m sure I won’t.
––––––––
I hold off on texting Mariah until we make it back to the hotel, until everyone has showered and made their way to Jason’s room for the party.
When I’m sure the teammate I’m sharing a room with is gone for the night, I call Mariah.
“Liam?” She answers on the first ring, sounding beyond exhausted.
“Hey ... Did I wake you up?”
“Yeah, but that’s okay. How was the game?”
“Another blowout. We won by sixty.”
“Good for you. You score twenty again?”
“Twenty two.”
“Great. How are you and the team celebrating? I’m sure Zach has something up his sleeve.”
“He does. Coach lifted the curfew, so there’s a party.”
“That sounds so amazing.” She’s definitely about to pass out. “I hope you have a really good time at the party, then. Well, kind of.” She laughs.
“I don’t plan on going, but thank you. I’ll call you tomorrow ... Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Oh, wait. Are you still there?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Something hit me today while I was working at the shop ...” She sounds slightly more alert. “You remember that night you came over and um, it was our first—”
“Yes.”
“Okay, me, too. I remember it, too.”
I hold back a laugh. Direct conversations are still not her strong suit.
“What about it, Mariah?”
“You said that you never loved any of your other girlfriends. You pretty much said that you loved me.”
“I did say that.” I pause. “And I mean that. Is that a problem for you now?”
“No, not at all ... It’s just that I never said it back so ...” She pauses for awhile. “I love you back ...
Okay, goodbye.” She immediately ends the call and I laugh.
––––––––
Me: You’ve said ‘I love you’ to me in your sleep before, but I’ll take it this way, too. :-)
––––––––
I hit my lights and climb into bed, hoping the much needed sleep will hit me immediately, but there’s a sudden, loud knock on the door.
“Help! Help! Help!” It’s a female’s voice.
I rush over and open the door, finding myself face to face with Ashley. Again. Rolling my eyes, I start to shut the door in her face, but she wedges her foot between the frame before I can do it.
“You have to come help us right now.” She looks as if she just saw a ghost. “Please ... It’s Zach.”