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“Coach T’s new assistant.”
He doesn’t respond, and when I peer over, he has a quizzical look on his face. “Coach T has a new assistant?”
“Yeah. You know, jet-black hair, petite, always frowning.”
He shakes his head.
“You should stop leading with your dick for two seconds out of every day and look at the world around you.”
“Okay, Grandpa.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on. A bunch of us have noticed your dry spell. We were going to buy you some Viagra and put it in your locker.”
I chuckle. “I don’t have ED, dickhead.”
His face scrunches up. “ED?”
“Erectile dysfunction. You might want to think about going to class once in a while.”
“I do go to class. I see Professor Andrea and Professor Jamie. Sometimes Professor Caroline.” He names off a few jersey chasers I’m familiar with.
“Shut up.”
“I like their coursework a lot.”
I laugh, gripping the steering wheel harder while I glance down the empty street, looking for a figure in my wash of headlights.
“Hey, how are Reid and Lex?”
“Good. They caught the game replays.”
Booker rattles on with comparisons between Parker and Michaels, even though he never played with Reid, and I nod as my gaze tracks the sidewalks on either side of the road. I pass block after block, scanning the poorly lit streets. She literally could’ve turned down any of these.
I sit back with a sigh.
“Where does this girl live?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m beginning to think you made her up. You know, I’m sure Sandra has a friend at the sorority.”
“I’m good, man. Let me just text her real quick.” I pull over and park before fishing out my phone.
Me: Did you make it home okay? I know you’re tired, but please respond.
I hit Send, and then do a three-point turn to take Booker where he wants to go. Once I’m parked outside the house, he tries to convince me to come inside, but I tell him I have a date with my bed instead.
He shrugs and gets out, shutting the car door. A cute blonde leans out the front entrance to the sorority house and waves while Booker jogs up the sidewalk to meet her.
For a split second, jealousy spikes when the girl jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips, a huge smile on her face.
I can’t imagine Charley ever doing that. I mostly see her back as she’s walking away from me. Or a frown. Or her condescending gaze.
Funny, I always thought I was the white-picket-fence type, but now I’m not so sure. I’ve been snagged by a weird chick, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
I check my phone and don’t see a message waiting, so I pull away, heading toward the athletic dorms.