Lisa sat up abruptly. “What are you doing?”
Jay came onscreen, but he wasn’t in his room. The background was noisy and dimly lit. A bar? He smiled at me. “Hey, sexy.”
“Hey. This is Lisa.” I turned the phone in my hand so Lisa and Jay could see each other. “She just told me I should screw you until you’re too tired to win your next game.”
She scowled at me, but Jay laughed. “I’ve got mad stamina, Lisa, but I’m all for it if Kayla wants to give your plan a shot.”
She looked disgusted, pushed up off the bed, and went into the bathroom in a huff. I turned the phone back so it was on me. “Where are you?”
“Out with Darius and a few other—”
A hand with painted nails latched onto Jay’s arms and a pretty brunette came into view. She grinned seductively and lifted a carefully manicured eyebrow as she peered at his phone. “What are you watching?”
“I’m having a conversation with my girlfriend.” He looked down at the hand on his arm, and then back at the brunette. “Goodbye.”
His expression was firm. Disappointment only lasted a moment, and the girl slipped away, probably off to find a new mark.
“Wow,” I said.
“I’ve given up being nice to them. It saves time.” He took a sip of his beer. “I didn’t want to come out tonight, but Darius said it was a good idea. Teambuilding and shit.”
Jay glazed over the finer details, but he’d mentioned last week that some of his dumber teammates had gotten drunk and razed his room. As captain, it forced Darius to bring down the hammer and stop any catastrophic threats to team unity.
In the background, the bar suddenly got loud. People were cheering and hollering.
“What’s happening?”
Jay craned his neck. “Evan just got here.”
“Great,” I chewed out. “That should keep the hoes busy.” Although, I knew there were plenty of eager girls wanting to get with players no matter their position, and Jay was so much hotter than Michigan’s quarterback. It was a little terrifying thinking about my boyfriend being out in public on campus.
“How’s it going with your family?”
“It’s going,” I said. “Cooper’s been sending me texts all week. ‘Dad turned your room into a yoga studio’ and ‘Mom’s meeting with a lawyer to cut you out of the will.’ Good stuff.”
He gave me a strained smile. “Are you still doing dinner after the game with them next Saturday?”
“They haven’t revoked my status in the family yet, so yeah. I’m planning to go.”
We won.
Again.
Our winning streak played no small part in helping me out when I met my family at the Buckeye Bar. My parents took a page from my playbook and pretended I wasn’t dating a guy from Michigan. It was the first stage of grief: denial. I let them, because it meant things were relatively normal. Mom got on Cooper’s case about his phone addiction, and Dad talked about the coaching staff’s excellent play calling. Things were spectacularly okay-ish.
They didn’t ask any questions about Jay. Not a single one. When the highlights of the Michigan game played on the flat screen near us, my mom glared at me as if I had somehow allowed the Wolverines to roll through Indiana’s defense.
On Monday, we stayed number two in the AP poll, although the smarter sports commentators argued the case how Ohio State should be ranked over Michigan. I was annoyed about it as I hustled to practice at the fieldhouse, and since it was November, it was cold and rainy outside, adding to my irritation.
Plus, I hadn’t seen Jay in person in weeks.
Three very long weeks. Our travel schedules didn’t align at all. Even our chats were short and the texts less frequent. Balancing it with school and our sports was getting harder every day.
Some practices everyone was in just the right mood and focused, and today was one of them. The energy from our undefeated season propelled us forward. We’d finished a full run of our routines, and I wanted to repeat it.
“C’mon, guys,” I said enthusiastically, trying to amp them up. “Let’s get it perfect for the Rose Bowl.”
Lisa wiped a hand over her sweaty forehead. “Never going to be perfect with Courtney landing that back tuck on her knees.”
I shot daggers at Lisa. Her attitude had improved marginally, but she never missed an opportunity to call someone else out.
“Knock it off, Lisa.”
“Sorry.” She didn’t even look at Courtney as she delivered her shitty apology. “And we’re not going know who’s going to playoffs until The Game,” she whined. “It’s like 2006 all over again.”
She was right. OSU and Michigan had both been undefeated coming into The Game in 2006, but Ohio State had been ranked number one. It’d been close, but we’d won that game at home. Would Michigan’s winning streak hold out like ours? Could we beat them in their own house? I put the thought out of my mind. I had enough mixed feelings whenever Jay played, and wasn’t ready to think about how I’d handle The Game.