Page 91
Story: Give You Up
“Nah, man. Those girls were all over your ass.” Admiration and respect in his words.
“That’s right, but I didn’t partake in the action, did I?”
“Why the fuck not?”
“’Cause Syn is it for me. She doesn’t need to go where I go or keep me in line. She trusts me. And us winning games isn’t about me or her. It’s about us. You guys brought your A-game. Played at your top notch. Killed it for each other because we have one another’s backs. That’s how we play and how we win. You hearing me?”
“Fuck yeah,” came from all around.
“Cool. Now let’s beta test Dare’s baby, then jump in the pool to cool off. Four against four. Winning team gets the chance to party at Blaise Lexington’s estate on bye week.”
“No shit?” Will asks.
I am pegging him as our number-one suspect. The guy wreaks of pent-up anger. What’s he got to be so angry for? He has a beautiful girlfriend and is aiming to go far with his record as the best blocker in the division DU is in. Which begs the question, why would any of these guys get tatted with Syn’s crew’s symbol of friendship? It doesn’t make sense.
“None, man,” I answer Will. “Blaise and Syn are friends.”
“Hey, she’s my friend too,” Dare says. “But yeah, she’s more Syn’s friend than mine. Other than her bodyguards and her cousins, Blaise doesn’t trust men.”
“Does that mean she likes pussy?”
Fuck, Simon is crass.
“What Blaise likes or doesn’t like is none of your business. Just be polite, thank her for hosting your sorry asses with an open bar and a five-course meal, and be done with it.”
“Holy cow, I am winning this.” Booker plops his ass on the couch. Grabs a controller. We count off from one to four. Laughing, Dare and me flip one another the bird.
We are on opposing teams, and I aim to win.
“Ready, mother-effers?”
Controller in hand, we nod, waiting for Dare to lay down the rules of the game.
“See the big egg on the screen?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Dude, that is fucking crazy. A golden egg kind of like from the nursery rhyme.”
“What the hell is a nursery rhyme? Why we discussing babies and shit?”
I lose track of who is saying what. I am concentrating on that egg. Seeing it, I think about Sydney. Damn, my little sister is having a baby.
“Inside that golden egg is a golden child. Goal of the game is to deliver the kid to his mother, the princess. She has the power to ‘hatch’ the prince. Fail and the world freefalls into chaos. Win and the princess and her kingdom are yours to rule over.”
“Pfft. Who wants a video game princess when we can get a girl IRL?”
In real life. I shake my head. Speak in sentences, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s a beta, dude. IRL, there’s a purse of a million dollars.”
“Easy.” Booker takes a long draw of his beer, followed by a shot. If he doesn’t slow down, he is going to lose my team the game.
Dare laughs. “Then you don’t know me very well. Last game I created and rolled out, it took a team five years to win the purse. Five fucking years.”
“Why’d it take so long?”
“That’s right, but I didn’t partake in the action, did I?”
“Why the fuck not?”
“’Cause Syn is it for me. She doesn’t need to go where I go or keep me in line. She trusts me. And us winning games isn’t about me or her. It’s about us. You guys brought your A-game. Played at your top notch. Killed it for each other because we have one another’s backs. That’s how we play and how we win. You hearing me?”
“Fuck yeah,” came from all around.
“Cool. Now let’s beta test Dare’s baby, then jump in the pool to cool off. Four against four. Winning team gets the chance to party at Blaise Lexington’s estate on bye week.”
“No shit?” Will asks.
I am pegging him as our number-one suspect. The guy wreaks of pent-up anger. What’s he got to be so angry for? He has a beautiful girlfriend and is aiming to go far with his record as the best blocker in the division DU is in. Which begs the question, why would any of these guys get tatted with Syn’s crew’s symbol of friendship? It doesn’t make sense.
“None, man,” I answer Will. “Blaise and Syn are friends.”
“Hey, she’s my friend too,” Dare says. “But yeah, she’s more Syn’s friend than mine. Other than her bodyguards and her cousins, Blaise doesn’t trust men.”
“Does that mean she likes pussy?”
Fuck, Simon is crass.
“What Blaise likes or doesn’t like is none of your business. Just be polite, thank her for hosting your sorry asses with an open bar and a five-course meal, and be done with it.”
“Holy cow, I am winning this.” Booker plops his ass on the couch. Grabs a controller. We count off from one to four. Laughing, Dare and me flip one another the bird.
We are on opposing teams, and I aim to win.
“Ready, mother-effers?”
Controller in hand, we nod, waiting for Dare to lay down the rules of the game.
“See the big egg on the screen?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Dude, that is fucking crazy. A golden egg kind of like from the nursery rhyme.”
“What the hell is a nursery rhyme? Why we discussing babies and shit?”
I lose track of who is saying what. I am concentrating on that egg. Seeing it, I think about Sydney. Damn, my little sister is having a baby.
“Inside that golden egg is a golden child. Goal of the game is to deliver the kid to his mother, the princess. She has the power to ‘hatch’ the prince. Fail and the world freefalls into chaos. Win and the princess and her kingdom are yours to rule over.”
“Pfft. Who wants a video game princess when we can get a girl IRL?”
In real life. I shake my head. Speak in sentences, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s a beta, dude. IRL, there’s a purse of a million dollars.”
“Easy.” Booker takes a long draw of his beer, followed by a shot. If he doesn’t slow down, he is going to lose my team the game.
Dare laughs. “Then you don’t know me very well. Last game I created and rolled out, it took a team five years to win the purse. Five fucking years.”
“Why’d it take so long?”
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