Long Pass Chronicles 01 - Outing the Quarterback (11 page)

Oh crap
. His heart felt like a fucking raisin. He just shook his head.

Her voice was soft. “If you let me go, you won’t get me back. You know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Your family really likes me.”

“Everyone likes you. In this case, it really is me that’s the problem.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to be sorry.”

He nodded.

“Go fuck yourself.” She turned as gracefully as her sneakers would let her and ran across the parking lot toward the field. For sure, her girlfriends would be waiting with open arms and a boatload of hate to pour all over Will. He deserved it.

With a sigh, he started toward the locker room. He should feel some relief. Maybe a little free. All he felt was bad.

Man, he wanted to talk to Noah. Wanted to see him. Since Will had run off, what did the guy think? Probably that Will wasn’t interested. Didn’t want him.

Damn the phone.
Shit
.

Wait a second.

Will glanced toward the field. Was the coach hysterical yet? He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the office of the art school.

“Laguna Art. May I help you?”

“Uh, is this Mrs. Johnson?”

“Yes. Will?”

“Yeah, hi.” He’d made friends with the right admin. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I wonder if you could do me a big favor? I gave a student in my art class a ride, and he left his backpack in my car. I know it’s important to him and I don’t have his number.” What should he suggest that sounded harmless? “Maybe you could call him and give him my number?”

“What’s his name?”

“Uh, Noah.”

“Noah Zajack?”

“Uh, yes. That’s him.” Thank God Noah was a distinctive name.

“Look dear, I have to run to a meeting. I’ll just give you his number, okay? I’m sure he won’t mind. He’s a nice boy.”

“Yeah.”

She read off a 949 number, and Will keyed it into his phone. “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”

“Thanks for being so conscientious.”

False pretenses. Nothing new about that. He clicked off.

He needed to get on the practice field. He needed to call Noah.

Shit
. He walked into the locker room. Guys were all suited up. He was way behind. Jamal walked by in full practice gear. “Hey, man, where you been? We got work to do.” Two new plays were on deck for today.

“Yeah. Sorry. Be right there.” He stripped, shoved his clothes in the locker, and set his phone on the shelf. His hand twitched to call.
No way
. People were counting on him.

Five minutes later, he trotted onto the field. The gaggle of cheerleaders remained eerily silent. A couple of camera flashes went off from people in the stands but not a sound from the girls. This would be different. His new and very quiet life.

He came up beside Jamal, who flashed a glance toward the cheerleading squad. “You told her, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Jamal slapped his shoulder. “Good man. A big step.”

Well, hell, Jamal was right. Will smiled.

Coach thundered, “If you gentlemen are finished with your
private
matters, can we play some football?”

For the next thirty minutes, Will tried to put all the shit behind him. The coach worked their asses off.

They ran their third play, then stopped to grab a drink.

Coach sidled up. “You okay, Ashford?”

“Yeah, good, Coach.”

“You seem distracted.”

Shit, he thought he’d covered it. “Sorry. Broke up with my girlfriend.”

“Tiffany?”

“Yeah.”

Coach glanced toward the cheerleaders, who were going through their own practice. “Ah, so we have the cheerleading squad on our bad side now?”

“Yeah. Or at least I do.”

Coach laughed. “I never thought she was quite your type anyway.”

Will kicked at a dirt clod. “Really? Everybody else sure did.”

“Everybody else doesn’t know you like I do.”

Will looked up and met the man’s eyes. What did he mean?

“Now get your head in the game.”

“Yes, sir.”

Will focused.
Try to make football as absorbing as painting
. He ran six more pass plays, and then they worked on a running play. Will was fast, but since his big weapon was his arm, nobody expected him to run. They needed some surprises in their arsenal. He was a good quarterback but probably not a great one. Just not enough heart for the game.

Jim Sawicki ran up to Will. “Coach wants me to run a few.”

Will clamped the big sophomore’s arm. “Good man. Go get ’em.” Will watched the dude take his place in the lineup. That was a passionate quarterback. Sawicki ate football for lunch. The guy loved it. Oddly, he managed to be bright and a great student too. He deserved to be quarterback. Not some halfhearted derp with a bumper sticker on his ass that said
I’d Rather Be Painting
.

Will dropped onto the bench and grabbed a water.
Wish I had my phone. Focus
.

The next hour felt like eternity, but he didn’t blow it too bad. Finally the coach called time.

Jamal trotted over and fell in beside Will as he walked to the locker room. “When you going to go public with Evangeline?”

“Not sure.”

“Will. Jamal. Wait up.” The dreaded voice came from behind them. Will turned and plastered on a smile as Dennis Hascomb trotted over.

“Hi, Dennis.” Jamal stopped beside him. Will could feel the big man tense.

“Hi, guys. Ready to be grilled?”

Keep it light
. “Sure. I always love a good barbecue.”

Dennis laughed way louder than the joke warranted. “Here’s the address.” He handed Will a slip of paper. “Come on over as soon as you get out of your gear, okay?”

“Sure. You bet.”

Dennis waved and started toward the parking lot. Will opened the locker room door and Jamal walked in. Will followed.

Jamal shook himself like a big hound dog. “That guy gives me the creeps.”

Will laughed and it felt good. “Yeah. Me too. You riding with me?”

“If I can. Mal dropped me off.”

“No problemo.”

A towel flew out of nowhere and connected with Will’s butt.
Whoa
. He turned and saw Roy, the football god, laughing. No way! He grabbed the towel, snapped it at Roy’s very toned and very bare buttocks outlined by a jock strap, and got a satisfying yelp in return. Will grinned. “The lesson, buddy, is never snap a towel when you’re the one with the bare ass.”

Roy held up his hands. “Truce.”

He got hoots and catcalls from the other guys. “Pussy.” “Never surrender.” A couple more towel battles broke out. Will opened his locker. Sometimes horseplay just made him horny.

The cell phone stared at him. Could he call Noah now? He glanced around. Not here. And much as he loved Jamal, Will didn’t want to make the call with him in the car. How long would this fucking video shoot take?

He wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled off his nylon pants underneath. Between staring at Roy’s cock in a jock and thinking about Noah, Will’s semiboner had some ’splainin’ to do, and he wasn’t up for it.

Jamal was dressed before Will and sat on the bench next to him. “We gotta do this, right? Tell me again why.”

“You know why. Just suck it up.”

“Okay, but I got no idea what I’m gonna say.”

“Me either.” Damn, truth.

He finished dressing, and he and Jamal dragged their reluctant asses into the car. Will plugged the address into the GPS and drove. Even in LA traffic, it only took fifteen minutes to get to Hascomb’s place, or rather the guy’s parents’ place. The house was a nice-looking sixties-modern two-story in a good neighborhood.

Dennis’s note said to go around to the side door, so they did. Will hadn’t even knocked before the guy was standing there with a big grin. “Come on in.”

They followed him down a narrow hall into a large room that somebody probably called the rec room back in the day. Now it was Dennis’s lair. A rumpled, unmade daybed stood against one wall, with clothes piled on it. Where did the guy sleep? Maybe he hung upside down like a bat.

A pile of video and audio equipment took up a big chunk of the room. In one corner, a cardboard backdrop painted to look like a dungeon with whips and chains on the wall announced this was “Dennis’s Den.” Three chairs were grouped in front of the set piece.

Jamal stared at the backdrop. “Cute.”

Dennis nodded. “Thanks. Why don’t you guys take those two chairs and I’ll get some light levels and shit, okay?”

Jamal walked to a chair like some firing squad was going to pop out from behind the wall. Will sat next to him. Talk about tense. Man, you could cut it with a butter knife. Neither one of them said shit. Just watched Dennis putter around doing whatever. Finally he sat down in the third chair.

“Okay, so I’m going to ask you some questions and you just answer, got it?”

Jamal frowned. “About what?”

“Football. Stuff like that.”

He crossed his arms over that massive chest. “Okay.”

Dennis clicked something and started in on an intro. “Hey, SCU-ers. It’s me, hanging out in Dennis’s Den with the big men on campus—Lions center Jamal Jones and our own quarterback, Will Ashford. Hey, guys.”

Will smiled. “Hey.” Jamal made a grunting sound.

“So give me the inside scoop. How big a year can we expect from the Lions?”

Okay, this was home turf. He could talk about football and the team all day. He launched into some blah-blah about what great chemistry the team had, and with a center like Jamal, it was hard to lose.

“Hey, Will’s got the best hands of any quarterback I ever played with. He doesn’t need me.”

Will smiled. “Let’s just say we’re a good team.”

Dennis laughed. “A real mutual admiration society. So Will, how’s your girlfriend?”

“What?”

“The glorious Tiffany? How is she?” The shark look was back.

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“And would you not be sure because you broke up with the glorious Tiffany?” He looked straight at the camera. “You heard it here first, SCU-ers.”

“Yes, we’re not a couple anymore. But that’s personal.”

“And personal is what this show is all about. So why’d you break up with her? I mean, how can any man who likes women ignore the charms of Tiffany Baxter?”

Why the fuck did he choose those words? “Tiffany’s amazing. I just fell for someone else.” That was entirely the truth.

“Who?”

Jamal stared at Dennis like he’d enjoy eating him with a fork. “My sister.”

That wasn’t the truth.

Dennis rubbed his hands together and sat forward on his straight-back chair. “Now we’re getting somewhere. So you succumbed to the charms of a black beauty, huh? Ready for a drink of chocolate milk?”

He did not just say that.
Jamal’s hand resting on his lap tightened into a fist.
Try not to shout.
“I know you don’t mean those comments in as racist a way as they sound.”

Dennis’s eyes widened. “Oh no… no….”

Will smiled tightly. “You know how I know you don’t mean it?”

Dennis shook his head, but his eyes looked like headlights.

“Because Jamal is two hundred and ninety pounds of solid muscle, and you just called his sister a dairy product.” He bared his teeth in what might be mistaken for a smile.

Dennis raised a hand toward Will. “I didn’t mean anything except that Jamal’s sister must be real pretty. Does she go to SCU?”

Will sat back and gently touched Jamal’s arm. He relaxed a little. Will smiled. “No. She’s a Phi Beta Kappa at Poly.”

“Wow. So you like ’em smart?” He was still swallowing again and again.

“Yes. I do.”

Dennis cleared his throat. “You must be really proud of her, Jamal.”

“Yeah.”

Dennis asked a couple other vanilla questions, but obviously the guy couldn’t wait to get them out of there. Finally, he gave himself a break and called the interview quits. “Thanks so much for coming.”

Will got up and Jamal followed. Dennis was already at the door. Will paused. “So when are you going to post the interview?”

“Uh, tomorrow. It’ll be up by tomorrow night.”

“Great. I look forward to seeing it.”
As if.

“You guys couldn’t get any more famous.” He laughed, but it sounded way phony.

“Thanks for having us on the show, Dennis.”

“Uh, yeah.” He glanced at Jamal. “I hope there’s no hard feelings. I didn’t mean anything. Sometimes I just get wound up with the show and everything.”

Jamal crossed his arms again. “Okay.”

A laugh almost escaped, but Will kept a serious look on his face. “Sure. We understand.”

They walked back down the long hall, and Dennis waved as they exited to the August twilight. “Bye. Be good.”

The little shit. They made it to the car before Jamal finally spoke. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For keeping me from killing him. Might have interfered with my eligibility.”

Will laughed as they folded themselves into the car. Then he sobered. “He may be scared of us now. But man, if he ever gets anything on either of us, we’re toast. He’s got twice as much motivation to lay us out.”

“So we better not give him any ammo.”

Will sighed. Easier said than done. He wanted to call Noah so bad his hands were twitching, but he needed to wait until he was alone.

It took an hour in the traffic, but they finally made it to Huntington Beach. Will pulled up in front of the Jones’s house.

Jamal crawled out of the low-slung car, which was always an act worthy of
America’s Got Talent.
He leaned down and looked in the window. “You not coming in to visit your girlfriend?”

“No. I got shit to do.”

“Like calling you a cute-ass waiter?” He grinned.

“He is cute, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. And that scar just makes him mysterious and sexy, not ugly. Weird.”

“Yeah. I think it perfects his beauty somehow.”
Okay, asshole, keep your philosophy to yourself.

“Where’d you say you met him again?”

“Uh, in Laguna. You know I like to hang there sometimes.”

“With the weirdoes, as Tiffany would say?” He grinned again.