One of my teammates at Reinhardt got himself a serious girlfriend during the summer after tenth grade. They were still together and he was still an object of almost constant joshing from the rest of us. I think 'pussy-whipped' was our go-to crack. Getting to know Tasha was, for me, kind of a rude awakening to what an immature asshole I was being. Somehow the guy with the long-term girlfriend had become an object of jocular ridicule simply because he appeared to care about his girlfriend - about what she thought and what she wanted - and now that I found myself in the same unfamiliar territory, it got me thinking. And it didn't take long for my teammates to notice that what had been a succession of almost interchangeable, skinny-ass blondes had now become a single girl - Natasha Greeley - and that she was neither blonde nor skinny-ass. They started to give me some of the shit we'd given our buddy. It didn't bother me, because it wasn't really mean-spirited, but it was a learning experience being on the other side of it. I ran into Aaron - the dude with the serious girlfriend - after practice one day after taking a thorough razzing for leaving early to go and have dinner with Natasha and her family. As soon as he saw my face he busted out laughing and slapped me on the back.

"Shit, Barlow, now you know how it feels, huh?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I guess I do. I'm sorry, man. I didn't - I don't think I realized what a bunch of shitheads we were being."

"Don't worry about it," Brandon reassured me in that happily relaxed manner of his. "I was just the first one out of all of us to get into a serious relationship, you know? It's gonna happen to all of you sooner or later - and believe me, when it does I'll be there to laugh at your dumb asses!"

I must have had a weird look on my face because Branden suddenly changed his tone after catching my eye. "Hey," he said, "don't take any of that shit seriously, bro. They're still all caught up in being pussy slayers - we're about to graduate, they'll grow out of it."

"Oh, I know," I replied, slightly uncomfortable at the rather adult nature of the conversation. I was definitely more used to making dick jokes with the guys. "It's so strange, though, man. I honestly thought you were kind of...I don't know, faking it a little? Something like that? But now I'm with Natasha it just - things feel pretty different, you know?"

"Yeah, of course. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with banging a new girl every week, but sometimes you meet one and it's not like she's sucking you in or forcing you to do shit - it's just that you want to do it, right?"

Goddammit, Brandon was right. He was so completely right. I laughed out loud - more at myself and the situation than anything else. "Fuck, man. Yeah, that's it. I don't even know if she even wants me to be all respectful and shit, it's like it's just happening, you know? I hardly ever even curse around her! And it's like it's just happening, like it's not a choice I'm making at all."

Brandon's dad pulled up in front of us in his new midlife crisis Audi. "That's a fuckin' nice car," I commented.

"I'll tell my dad you said that," Brandon chuckled. "You should see his face when he drives that thing and he doesn't think anyone is looking. Pretty sure he thinks he's James Bond. Anyway, man. It's a shocker isn't it, who knew girls were for more than just pumping and dump-"

"Hey!" I snapped, cutting Brandon off, instantly on the defensive. "whoever said I thought that was-"

"Chill, bro," he laughed and I cringed a little at the realization that he'd only been joking - and that I'd taken it so seriously I'd gotten visibly worked up. Shit. "If you ever need any advice or anything, just ask me. Amber is honestly the coolest person I know, but that doesn't mean she doesn't make me want to lose my fuckin' mind every now and again. Just don't act all defensive and shit. Women hate that."

"Thanks, man." I said, still smarting from the comment about pumping and dumping as Brandon got into his dad's car. I watched the car pull out of the parking lot and got to wondering why it had gotten under my skin, especially when nothing any of the other guys had said after practice - which basically amounted to the confirmed fact, in their opinion, that I was fully and completely Natasha Greeley's bitch and that this was the most hilarious thing they'd ever heard - had even gotten close to bothering me.

Fuck. Was it true? About seeing girls as things to fuck and nothing else? I looked down at my phone, desperate to give myself an excuse not to think about it. It was still a little early but I could head over to Tasha's, no problem. I was getting to know her family a little and it was surprisingly enjoyable. I mean, I would probably have spent time at the local sewage works if it meant seeing Tasha, but there was something oddly comforting about being at her house. First of all, there were a lot of them. The atmosphere was so different from the one in my own family home. I don't mean to denigrate my parents - they made their choices and did their best and I was never going to have to worry about money because of it - even if I didn't make it to the NFL. But Tasha's home had people in it all the time. It was small, but it was full of laughter and support and all of those things you usually associate with the word 'family.' I messaged her that I was on my way and walked off to find my Suburban in the parking lot, thankful that I didn't have to think about what Brandon had said anymore.

Later that night, after I'd eaten with Tasha's family and made Rosa laugh until she almost puked by chasing her around the house and roaring like a monster whenever I caught her, Tasha and I were sitting on the front stoop.

'You can't see the stars for shit in town," I commented, looking up.

"What?" Tasha asked. She was wearing a skirt and I had my hand on her soft, warm thigh underneath it. Just the thought of how close I was to her panties had me rock hard, as I generally was around her all the time when we were alone.

"Uh, the stars," I said, distracted by that perfect thigh under my hand. "Too much light pollution. Out in the hills, you can see way more stars than this. Sometimes you can even see the Milky Way, really faintly."

"Really?" Tasha asked skeptically as she leaned her head in against my shoulder. God I fucking loved it when she did that. This is probably going to sound dumb as hell but goddamn if she didn't make me feel like a man. All protective and shit.

"Yeah. We should go camping this summer - I used to go out there all the time as a kid with my dad. I still have a tent and all the gear. We should go."

"Camping?" Tasha asked warily, looking up at me. "Isn't that, like, sleeping on the ground?"

I laughed. "Well, yeah, I suppose. But you have a little sleeping mat thing to lie on. And it's just really different to be out there in the hills, alone. So quiet. I bet you'd enjoy it. Come on!"

She kept looking at me, as if trying to figure out whether or not she was being tricked. Then she just shrugged her shoulders and nodded. "OK, Kaden. I'll go camping with you. I'm probably not going to know how to do anything but-"

"Don't worry about it," I told her. "I know how to put up a tent. And I know how to kill snakes."

"Snakes?"

"I'm kidding. There aren't any snakes - well, there aren't any harmful ones, anyway."

Tasha agreed to go camping because of me. She didn't say it, but I just knew it. She wouldn't have gone camping with anyone else. I still didn't know everything there was to know about her but I did know she wasn't naturally outdoorsy. It made me feel proud that I'd managed to convince her so easily.

"Ha ha, look at you," she said, smiling. "All proud of yourself."

She wasn't naturally outdoorsy, that was true. But she was already almost freakishly good at reading my thoughts - better than I was, most of the time.