Page 13

“What about you?” he says. “Haven’t seen you out in a while.”

I frown. “Dude, we talked the other day.” His expression is blank, like he’s got no clue what I’m talking about. I sigh. “When you saved me from Brent at the party?”

“Shit. You were there?” A line creases his forehead, like he’s searching his memory, but then his expression clouds. “What the hell were you doing with Brent?”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

I sure as hell wish I didn’t.

“Not a fucking thing. I got blackout. Which believe it or not, isn’t like me.”

Axel is fun at a party. No, he’s thelifeof the party. The kind of guy everyone, male or female, wants a little piece of. He’s fun, good looking, talented… and there’s definitely a dangerous vibe going on with the tattoos and piercings. I can’t help but think that if he’s partying enough to black out his memories, it’s probably a good idea to slow down.

He picks up a drumstick and asks, “So what did you need saving from this time, T?”

“Myself, mostly.” I shrug. “He was just being a dick.”

“So nothing new.” He takes another bite and chews, before asking, “So how’s all that going?” He gestures with his hands. “You know, everything with Brent and CJ?”

I take a deep breath, weighing how much to tell him. If he doesn’t remember anything from the party, I’m not going to remind him. “Fine, I guess. I think the video is still down, but it seems like he’s spread word to the rest of the football team and maybe a few others not to talk to me.”

“Good.” He scowls. “You don’t need to talk to any of those pricks.”

“It doesn’t feel good to be ignored and ostracized,” I admit, the shame from hearing the guys talking to Eric about me after class resurfacing. “They won’t even look at me in the class we have together, and I’m pretty sure they orchestrated it so that I’m not paired with any of them in a group project.”

“Why would you want to be?” He shakes his head. “You’re better than these fuck-head, abusive, entitled assholes. Don’t look to them for validation. You’re never going to get it.”

In a moment of pure honesty, I blurt, “This is my identity, Rakestraw. I’m a jersey chaser. If I’m not on the arm, or in the bed, of a varsity athlete, who am I?”

Axel looks at me like he wants to tell me exactly what he thinks, his teeth pulling at that silver hoop, but instead he reaches for his water. “Hold up your glass.”

“My glass?”

“I’m making a toast, T, humor me.”

I shake my head, but lift the water glass into the air. “What are we toasting?”

“To new identities,” he declares. “To no more epic fuck ups. No more partying for me. No more athletes for you. Not until we get our shit together.”

I laugh, but he looks dead serious. “Okay.” Yeah, I can get behind this one. I clink my glass to his and repeat the mantra. “No more epic fuck-ups.”

Maybe it’ll be easier if we do it together.

4

Axel

I’ve walked homefrom the bar district with a hot girl more times than I can count, but this may be the first time I’m stone-cold sober,andthere’s zero chance of a hook-up at the end of it.

“Thanks again for offering to walk with me.”

Nadia’s a good foot and a half away, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket.

I repeat: Zero-chance.

“No problem,” I tell her truthfully, “hanging out at the bar and drinking water is exactly as lame as it sounds. You gave me an excuse to be a gentlemanandsave face with my teammates.”

“I wasn’t always paranoid about walking around campus by myself, but Twyler keeps making me watch those murder shows and now I’m convinced a psycho clown murderer is behind every tree.”