“It’s not just about having a dick living next to me. Mila was right when she said we’re fucking show ponies. They want us on a short leash, watching everything we do, where we go, and who we’re hanging out with. The second we step out of line, they make us pay for it by threatening additional practices or fewer minutes in a game. It’s bullshit.”
“Krueger knows,” Hudson says.
I stare at Hudson, working to articulate what he’s telling me. Krueger is new to Camden. Typically, it would be his role to establish our playbook and call our offensive plays, but like the rest of us, Peters limits him as well. “Krueger knows what?”
“We talked, and he wants to loosen the reigns and allow us more freedom and privacy. He knows how tight we’re being squeezed and that we have a hell of a lot more potential than running the same goddamn plays.”
I nod. “We both know that won’t happen, not unless Peters retires.”
Hudson slowly releases a breath, his jaw clenched. He’s still trying to wade out of the pile of shit he found himself stuck in last month after skipping practice to fly to New Mexico to see Evelyn. Peters will happily replace him if he steps out of line again because he has no problem cutting off his nose to spite his face—or our winning record. “Double-check the fucking rule. I don’t want him to be able to come after you.”
I smirk. “Done.”
Hudson tilts his head, his expression turning to amusement. “Do you really think your sister’s going to let you move in with her?”
My little sister Katie was coined the ice queen last year when she came to Camden as a freshman. I was completely okay with this; grateful I didn’t have to issue continuous warnings to the team to avoid her because she did it herself and never attended our games. “Knowing Katie, it will come at a price, but she’s got a full basement that they don’t use.”
“You don’t have any furniture.”
“God, no wonder you didn’t sleep with Evelyn when you guys got stranded at that motel this summer—all you see are obstacles. I’ll sleep on the fucking ground if it means getting out of there,” I say, pointing at the dorm building beside us. “Any other questions or helpful reminders?”
Hudson smirks. “Sometimes you’re an asshole.”
“An honest asshole, though.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I think I can help you out with your furniture dilemma.”
“I’m listening…”
“You know how Evelyn’s aunt has been redoing her house?”
I shake my head. “No, but continue…”
“She’s getting rid of a bunch of shit. The house has four bedrooms upstairs, and she’s tearing two out to make a bigger master suite, so she has some furniture she’s looking to get rid of.”
I reach for him, but Hudson takes a step back, chuckling. “Don’t fucking kiss me, too.”
I laugh. “Ask her how much she wants for a bed and dresser, and when I can come to pick it up.”
“We can probably get you more if you’re interested. Rugs, nightstand, lamps—make a list of what shit you need. We’ll get it sorted for you.”
“I owe you.”
“You will,” he tells me. “Good luck with your sister.”
I crack a smile, already working to bolster my confidence because I’m going to need both my confidence and his luck.
I measure the trip to where my sister lives both in time and mileage. It’s sixteen miles away from campus—assuring me it’s within the guidelines.
I get out of my truck, starting at the house where envy has always greeted me. Katie has no idea how lucky she is to be able to leave campus every day.
I ring the doorbell, a spiel and a plea already on my tongue.
The door swings open but rather than my sister, it’s one of her roommates. The girl has blonde hair, blue-rimmed glasses, subtle freckles, and a smile that makes her the spitting image of most librarian fantasies. I’ve seen her a few times but can’t recall her name. I try to recall if she’s the computer nerd, the band chick Katie often complained about, or the bookworm I’ve only seen behind a textbook.
“Hey, is Katie home?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says, taking a step back into the house and widening the door slightly. “Can I tell her who’s here?”