Page 31 of The Cheerleader

“Shit. Should we start calling you Father Granger now?” Eldy says as he opens his door.

“We need to focus, and the cheerleaders are a distraction,” I add for good measure.

“You’re a real downer, you know that, man?” Chuck says.

I wait for Mack to express his dissatisfaction as I close the car door behind him. He just looks at me and shakes his head.

We parade into the apartment. The ride was short because we’re in the complex with the distinction of being closest to campus. That and the fact that it’s the cheapest place around are the only positives about it.

The rooms are small and shabby. The living room, which I pass through in four strides across the universally scuffed floors, hasn’t been painted in twenty years. They’re the color of dirty bathtub water, and I’m pretty sure they were originally white.

I head into the kitchen, where half the cabinet doors are missing or unhinged, and start cleaning up. It’s my normal routine to do the dishes after practice. Sometimes Mack will wipe them and put them away. I squirt some dish liquid into the sink and turn on the water. Grabbing the sponge, I get to work.

I do my best thinking with my hands elbow-deep in dish suds—or back home at the water trough where we wash the dogs. But not today. Eldy leans against the counter next to me with his arms folded.

“I get your point, but it pisses me off. There aren’t any girls on campus who aren’t on some kind of athletic team. So what are we supposed to do?”

“Wait a fucking week?” I tilt half my mouth in a derisive smirk.

He punches my shoulder—and it’s not one of those friendly punches. I suck in a breath and hold onto the dish in my hand, controlling my urge to drop it and punch him back.

“I’m still flirting. You can’t stop me from flirting. And maybe I will start up a relationship with a girl tonight.” He gives me an evil leer.

“Suit yourself.” He’s right. I really can’t stop him. “You realize you sound like a fourteen-year-old, don’t you?”

He flips me the finger. And then he grins. “Are you coming with us to Huskies?”

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

He snorts. “Don’t do me any favors. And since when are you worried about trouble?”

My eyes are closed and I’m on top of my bed fully clothed in Levi's and a gray T-shirt, drifting off to sleep until Eldy bangs on my door and opens it without waiting for permission.

“Shit, Dane. What do you want?” I keep my eyes closed and throw an arm across my face as if looking at Eldy will hurt.

“Time to go, Bry. You promised.”

“You sound like my kid sister.”

“You don’t have a kid sister.”

“That’s my point. You are my kid sister.”

He yanks on my leg and pulls me from the bed—or tries to. I stop him, jump up on one foot, and my forward momentum carries us until we slam into the door.

“All this because you’re desperate for me to go out? To a pizza⁠—”

“All this for you to avoid going to Huskies? What the fuck are you afraid of? You really did become a monk over the summer, didn’t you?”

I really did, but there’s no need to admit that to him. He pushes me away, and I flop back on my bed as he sits in my desk chair. “I’m worried about you, Granger. As a teammate and a friend.”

I laugh because I can’t help it, though he may have a point. He’s the only one who knows anything about my life at home.

“And you think going to Huskies tonight will solve my problems?”

“No. But you can let loose, forget about them for a while, and relieve your tension—if you know what I mean.”

I snort, and then I sit up because I can’t ignore his effort. “Going out to relieve my tension is just as likely to cause more problems than solve them. The only thing I can do is play the best damn football I’ve ever played and …” I swipe a hand through my hair and stand. I’m not going to say out loud what we both know is wishful thinking.