24
Brody
Dallas Lockett’s yearly Halloween party was a big deal. He went all out: multiple bars, catered food, and a DJ out on the patio. The hottest women in the city attended—which was always tough for me, since I had previously been abiding by the no-relationships-during-the-season rule. Now that I was open for business, so to speak, I could enjoy myself more.
But I couldn’t bring myself to get excited about that. I didn’t want to flirt and hook up with a random supermodel at Dallas’s party. I didn’t even want to be there, period.
The only thing I want is…
I shook it off. Seeing Taylor with him at her college campus was enough to throw a bucket of cold water on my feelings.
As I drove to Dallas’s house, I realized I had forgotten something important: a costume. Not everyone wore costumes to the party, but I always did. People expected it of me. But it was already eight o’clock on Halloween night…
A solution came to me when I passed a fire station on West Temple Street. I changed lanes and pulled into the parking lot next to the station. Three firemen were standing in front of their big fire engine doors, handing out candy to a cluster of costumed children.
“Howdy,” I said after the children walked away. “Y’all know it’s cheating to dress like you normally do, right?”
One of the firemen pointed at me. “Hot damn. You’re…”
“Brody Carter!” the other suddenly said. “Oh my God. Brody Carter is at my fire station.”
“Was hoping y’all could do me a favor,” I said. “I need a costume for a party. Any chance I could borrow some of your gear until tomorrow?”
One of the firemen winced. “I don’t know. We have plenty of extras, but we’re really not supposed to…”
Over on the wall was a banner advertising a fundraising drive for a new fire engine. I pointed to it and said, “I’ll trade you. A donation for a costume rental. How about a thousand bucks?”
The firemen all looked at each other in shock. “That’s way too generous…”
I walked over to the banner, which had a Paypal QR code. I scanned it and sent a donation. One of the firemen must have been notified about it, because he opened his phone and gawked at the screen.
“You didn’t donate a thousand,” he said. “You donated ten thousand!”
I gave him an easy grin. “Oops. Must have fat-fingered the total. So, how about that costume…?”
I changed into the costume, then took some selfies with the boys. As I drove away from the station, my mind felt a little clearer than before. It was always great to make some fans happy. It also helped balance out all the negativity I was getting from social media.
After handing over my car keys to the valet service, I walked up the driveway and into Dallas’s house. It was much too big for my tastes—I preferred my penthouse condo, which although large, was still only a fifth the size of Dallas’s house.
The dark-haired quarterback was standing underneath the chandelier in the entrance room, greeting guests as they came in. He was dressed as an old-timey surgeon, with a white smock splattered with blood, rubber gloves, and a rusty bone saw.
“Not a lot of football players change careers to be surgeons,” I said.
He grinned at me. “Instead of cutting up defenses, I’m cutting up limbs!” He let out an evil cackle and waved the bone saw around.
“Hey now, careful where you’re swingin’ that thing,” I said. “Don’t want to lose my nose.”
“Relax. It’s fake.” Dallas bent the saw to show me it was made of rubber. “You need a drink. Nurse? Nurse!”
Kimberly Dresden emerged from the hall. She was dressed as a sexy nurse, with her blonde hair tucked underneath a paper hat and a blouse that revealed far more cleavage than a real nurse would ever show at work. In both hands she carried a cartoon-sized syringe with a long plunger. Smokey brown liquor sloshed around inside the syringe.
“Two CCs of tequila, coming right up!” She aimed the syringe toward my face. When I realized what this was, I laughed and opened my mouth. Kim pushed the plunger, which fired a stream of liquor directly into my mouth. It burned nicely on the way down my throat.
“If you’d done more of that when you were the team trainer,” I said, “we would’ve had twice as many injuries!”
“We do things differently down at BYU.” She grinned, then looked me up and down. “I like your costume. I’m surprised you didn’t come barging in here with an ax. Last year you were a werewolf, and came running inside on all fours. You howled every time you took a shot!”
I shrugged. “Not feeling as festive this year.”