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“Back to going out,” Ez says, waving his hand around and redirecting the conversation. “Rula Bula.”
Noah shakes his head immediately, peeling out of his jersey. “Are you sure you want to go there?” He stares at Ez. “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”
“No. I try to block that night out,” Ez mumbles. “But my next hit will be solid.”
“What’s he talking about?” I ask, unsure if I want to join the conversation or not.
Noah’s eyes light up. He loves to tell a story, and if it involves embarrassing Ez, even better. “The last time Ez and Forest were there, they were trying to score with some strippers, and Ez had a drink thrown in his face.”
“Can we please not tell this story again?” Ez jams his gear into his locker. “It’s old and recycled.”
I smile. “I think I need to hear it.”
“You really don’t,” Ez adds, tossing his cleats over his head.
They smack Noah in the face, but it doesn’t stop him from his animated recollection of the night. “So Ez asked one of the strippers to dance, she said no, and then he backtracked and said, ‘No, I didn’t ask you to dance. I said you look fat in those pants.’ And then the chick Forest was with threw her drink in Ez’s face.”
Forest frowns. “Fucked it up for both of us. Which reminds me.” He pauses and points to Ez, who’s glaring at us. “Stay away from me tonight. I haven’t been laid in weeks. I don’t need you fucking up my average even more.”
“Oh please, ya lying fuck. You haven’t been laid all season unless it’s by your goddamn pillow.”
Forest takes a bottle of Gatorade and chucks it at his head. “Fuck you, bro. You don’t know shit.”
Ez tosses a towel at me. “So you in? Rula Bula?”
I shrug, not sure if I feel like going out.
“You’re going out,” Noah tells me, handing me the game ball. “Them big-league hos are gonna be all over your dick. Turn on the charm. All you have to do is walk in, and we’re all getting laid tonight.”
“I don’t want a one-night stand,” I groan, rolling the ball around in my hand.
“You don’t have to do anything.” Ez strips down completely naked. “Just be there. We’ll do the rest and collect them runs for you.”
I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but I do know I want to escape reality tonight. While I could certainly use some emotionless pussy, I don’t want the drama that comes with it. You’d think I’d be excited over the win or putting my name at the top of the college record books.
Truth is, I don’t know how I feel about any of it. How can one person have such a promising career ahead of him and be so completely lost at the same time?