Page 17

Hartley

W e won the home opener, and there’s only one appropriate way to celebrate a win. Buzzing from the adrenaline, I step out of the steaming shower and throw on my signature look. Khakis, SU Football Henley, and red Air Jordans. I top off the look with my backwards hat.

“Let’s go,” Ryan grunts out next to me.

“Woah there, party animal. I thought you didn’t want to run around with us losers tonight. Isn’t that what you said?” Giving Ryan a hard time is one of my favorite pastimes, and I manage to live under the layer of his skin closest to the bone.

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

“That’s enough explanation for me.” I smack his back, and we sling our gear bags over our shoulders as we make our way to his car.

“Is Violet coming out?” Ryan asks sheepishly as he grips the steering wheel with enough force to peel the leather.

My eyes form slits. “Nah.” I glance his way, but he doesn’t make eye contact. “Not really her scene.”

He doesn’t reply, so I keep the conversation quiet for once for the remainder of our trek to town.

Ryan parks, and we skip the wrap-around line to get into Downtown Tap.

Football player perks are alive and well.

We draw a crowd of fans after home games, and the owners wouldn’t want us to leave to hit up another bar.

I bump elbows with a few of my teammates and flirt with a few girls fawning over me before escaping to the bar for my first drink.

I order a whiskey sour and the bartenders turn a blind eye to my age as per usual.

My eyes scan around the bar before deciding on my next move.

I spot a few of the offensive players at a nearby table, so I join them. Ryan has a bombshell saddled on his lap. Color me surprised, he may actually let loose and have fun for once.

Mason pulls me for a hand shake before he starts in on Locke. “Your girl is here and she looks just as edible as usual.”

Locke’s girl? He doesn’t have a girl to call his, unless he means.

. . A fiery blonde captures my eye. She’s swaying her hips on the dance floor, tossing her hair over her shoulder without a care in the world.

She throws her head back and releases a belly laugh that I can’t hear because of the deafening music.

Locke and I don’t have issues. He’s a bit of an egotistical showboat, but some say the same about me.

The only thing about him that turns me into a psychopath is that he can have Goldie, and I can’t.

RIP Hartley Knox. Cause of death: stuck in the friend zone with a girl who plagued his thoughts year after year.

Suddenly, like a man possessed, Ryan jumps to his feet, launching the girl that was on his lap clean off when he darts for the dance floor.

She hits him with a disgusted eye roll before turning her attention to another guy.

I need another drink for a night like this, so I throw back the remaining liquid in my plastic cup and order another.

Ryan must have gotten lost, because I don’t see him, but I’ll allow the fun police to have a night of debauchery for once.

I lost sight of Liza when I walked back to the bar for my second drink, and I try my best to convince myself that I’m not aimlessly searching this packed bar for her, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.

I finally find her in the throngs of sweaty people on the dance floor.

The sight of her brings an effortless smile to my face.

I take a minute to watch her in her element.

She hasn’t stopped giggling. Guys have their eyes glued on her, but she doesn’t notice.

She’s a party of one, and I’m in awe of the firecracker in front of me.

I’ve never stopped caring for her since the moment I met her, and I’m starting to think I’m out of my depth with how much she’s on my mind.

I convinced myself that being her friend and occasional flirt buddy at parties would be enough.

She moves her head slightly at the end of a fast-paced song and locks eyes with me across the dance floor. Instead of rolling her eyes or turning away, she points to me and wiggles her finger for me to join her.

A stronger man would have walked away. A respectful man would have accepted being thrown in the friend zone and forgot about her a long time ago, but I’m neither of those things.

Who am I to deny my girl?