Page 45 of For the Fans

“So forgive me for not being in the mood to shoot the shit with you,bro. But I kind of just want to be alone…” Standing up, I aggressively untuck my jersey and pull it over my head, whipping it across the room.

For the first time since he sat down, I glance at Avi, our eyes locking as he stares up at me. He’s not smiling, or smirking, which, for some reason, makes me feel both better and worse at the same time. I can’t tell if he’s pitying me, or if this situation is just so glum that he’s finally lost the will to chuckle at the rest of the world like it’s all a big joke.

Breaking our eye contact before it starts to piss me off even more, I remove my shoulder pads, dropping them onto the floor. Avi stands up while I keep my gaze on my feet, kicking off my unlaced cleats.

“You should come to Frankie’s party tomorrow,” he says, causing my eyes to spring back to his. “I’m not sure if you heard, but she’s having a huge Halloween party at her new place in Brookline…” I shake my head, becausewhy would I care?“It’ll be a ton of fun, and I think we deserve to have some fun, what with all this bullshit going on.”

“I’m sure you haven’t delayed your nonchalant, fun-loving stoner lifestyle just because of all this…” I mutter.

“Good point.” He smirks, and I roll my eyes. “No, but seriously… I know you don’t want to hang out with me or anything. But you should come by. Take your mind off everything.”

I squint at him. It’s more than odd for him to be inviting me to his friend’s party. But then Avi is a strange person, so who knows what he’s ever going to do…

All the other Halloween parties will be on campus, which automatically means they run the risk of being shut down by campus security if things get too rowdy. Going to Brookline would guarantee a wilder night.

But then I’d have to spend it around my annoying stepbrother and his oddball friends.

I’m not really even in the headspace to think about a costume party right now, so I simply shrug. “I probably won’t.”

“Well, I think you should.” He stands firm, placing his hands on his hips.

“In case you haven’t picked up on this in the years we’ve known each other…” I lift my brows at him, “I don’t care what you think.”

“Pleasant as always, superstar.” He grins, turning to leave. But he pauses and says, “Don’t forget to dress up!”

He struts away from me, and I call after him, “Take that stupid thing off. You look like an idiot.”

“Can’t!” he shouts over his shoulder. “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

Shooting a wink at me, he swings out of the locker room, leaving me with the lingering frustration of being near him.

Puffing a solemn breath, I shake my head. There’s absolutely no way I can go to that party tomorrow.Unless someone wants to see a Michael Myers-style murder happen IRL.

I’ve spent hours debating this decision. Enough that even as I’m shuffling off the Green Line and up the block toward Frankie’s house, I’m still considering turning around and going back.

There’s a Halloween party currently taking up our entire floor in the dorms. Everyone pretty much just parties in the halls, wandering in and out of rooms that are all fully stocked with booze and party favors, students dressed in all kinds of costumes and celebrating what is by far the most fun holiday when you’re our age.

When I left, Guty was dressed as Negan fromThe Walking Dead, and insisting that I stay andget weirdwith him and our friends. And as much as I do love hanging out with them, I just had to get away from my teammates for the night. After the loss yesterday, I’m still not really in the mood to deal with it. Not that I think they’d be giving me shit—notdirectly,anyway. But I figured a change of scenery might be what I need right now.

Also, it’d be nice to avoid Lexi after I’ve spent all week dodging texts from her about us dressing up in couple’s costumes.

So that’s it. Avoidance and denial—my bread and butter—are drawing me to Avi’s friend’s house in Brookline for this Halloween party. And I have just enough lackluster energy to walk up the steps and deliberately ignore all of the bizarrely dressed partygoers I pass along the way.

You just have to numb yourself with alcohol until the party at the dorms inevitably gets shut down. Then you can go home, crawl into bed, and feel sorry for yourselfalone.

The moment I step inside Frankie’s apartment, I’m regretting coming here. The place ispackedwith people, all decked out in all manners of crazy costumes, leaving me to feel even more insecure about mine. I didn’t have the time, energy, or money to spend on a cool one, so I just grabbed the cheapest thing I could find last minute—a black and yellow karate outfit fromCobra Kai.

Not to mention that none of my friends are here, so there’s none of the usual hype when I show up at parties where people actually care about football to rely on. Still, I recognize a few faces, who shout“what’s up”at me while I make a beeline to the nearest visible alcohol.

In the kitchen, I find a cooler stocked with cans of beer. Grabbing one, I crack it open and chug the entire thing before even sparing a glance at anyone. Dropping the empty on the counter, my eyes shift to someone I recognize as one of Avi’s friends standing right next to me. Micah Torres. He’s dressed in a black suit with fake blood and viscera splattered all over the front, and on his face.

“Sup…” I grumble, cracking open another beer.

“Hey…” He looks around, like he’s expecting the rest of the football team to come barging into the room to crash their party.

Taking a few large gulps from my second beer in less than one-minute, I swallow and tilt my head. “Who are you supposed to be?”

He grins. “I’m the Secret Service agent who shot JFK by accident.”