“Uh, no,” he stutters, showing a modicum of sense for the first time during the whole trip. Truth is, if we liked him, if we thought he wasn’t a total washout, then we would treat him to a few Warrior perks. But this guy isn’t worth the effort. This is our punishment.
“Good, then follow me, don’t drink, and don’t touch anyone.”
“What if they touch me?”
I close my eyes. “That’s fine. If they touch you first, feel free to touch them back, but for God’s sake, don’t offer to pay them anything. These are students, not hookers.”
Ace muffles a laugh behind his hand. I give explicit instructions to the bartenders at the Gas Station that this is an underage, loud-mouth recruit. They nod and serve him a Coke when he asks. I take a shot of whiskey because the only way I’m making it through the night is with really, really dulled senses. Numb, in fact.
There’re plenty of women in the Gas Station to make up for the lack of alcohol. I tell one of the girls to pretend like she’s spiking his drink while she pours club soda in it. A couple of other players show up and take him off my hands for an hour to play pool.
Ace leans back in the booth across from me and looks at me with assessing eyes.
I give a tired gesture. “Whatever you’ve got to say, spit it out.”
“Why aren’t you taking my back in this?” Ace asks. “You really think I’m that shitty of a quarterback?”
I sigh. I don’t know if I’ve ever really hated anyone, but I’m getting close with Coach. “No. You’re a good quarterback and I’m proud to wear the same colors.”
“But I’m not great.”
“We don’t need you to be great.” I squeeze the back of my neck. “Look, it doesn’t matter what I think. Coach has made up his mind. The kid’s coming here and he’s going to start him. He…he doesn’t like you, man.”
“Because of Stella.”
“Yeah.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. We’re finally getting somewhere. “Because of Stella.”
Ace shakes his head. “We stopped fucking a long time ago. Barely into the season. What was it? Week four?”
“How long had you been going at it?”
“Since summer. It was just a fling. The shelf life was getting stale at that point anyway. I guess I’ll just continue being the thorn in his side.”
“Why? You’re real athletic. You have great hands. Why not try for safety?” I launch into my spiel about how there’s so much more opportunity for him in the NFL beyond the stupid quarterback position. Who even gives a crap about that position anyway?
“I don’t want to play that position. I’ve got one year left to prove that I’m worth a draft pick or at least a tryout or two.”
“But if you’re not on the field, you can’t prove anything other than you look good holding a clipboard.”
“You know that the favorite player in the stadium is the backup quarterback,” Ace replies confidently. “That freshman comes in and he gets his first hit, he’s going to come crawling over to the sideline and I’ll be there to step in and save the day.”
I down another shot because that’s the only way I’m going to make it through the night between the raw-ass recruit who’s determined to get drunk and screw as many college chicks as he can, and the grand delusions of Ace.
“You don’t believe I can do it, do you?”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen this fall,” I tell him frankly. “I want to win again. I want to enjoy our senior year. I want to know that we did everything we could to repeat. But I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe it goes just like you say. Or maybe Mr. Texas comes in and plays just well enough to keep his starting job and you don’t see squat and become a footnote in Warrior football. And I don’t want that for you, man. You’re too good of an athlete. Too good of a football player.”
Ace considers my words for a minute and then leans forward, folding his hands on the top of the table. “I tell you what, you stop seeing Lucy. You tell her that you’re done with her and I’ll move to safety.”
I choke on the vodka shot. Ace rises up and slaps me on the back, too hard to be termed friendly, but at this point I need it.
“What’d you just say?” I demand.
“You heard me.”
“I heard some words, but I don’t think I understood them.”
“No, you heard me clearly. I’ll make it easy for you, for the team. For Coach. For everyone. But, in exchange, you give Lucy back to me.
I narrow my eyes. Something isn’t right here. “You and Lucy are friends.”
“No, not really. She thinks we’re friends but we’ve always been meant to be together.”
I’ve only had three shots, but I feel dazed. He’s been denying they’ve been anything but friends and now he’s willing to trade his precious QB position for her? As if she’s a piece of property I’ve got control over?
“Ace, brother. For the four years we’ve been teammates, you’ve screwed your share of blondes, but not one of them has been Lucy. And you’ve insisted that you and Luce are just friends. I’m getting whiplash here.”
“Know how many guys Lucy has slept with?”
I can’t really say I don’t know because I have the list from Ahmed, but I don’t think I should admit that. Ace doesn’t care.