With growing responsibility on my shoulders, a need to look for something more meaningful felt appropriate. But Sonny had effectively clipped my balls and hung them on his studio wall, stalling any attempts at starting a relationship. At least, for the rest of the season.
Against my better judgment, I’d partied pretty hard last night, holding up the bar and crushing one drink after another. Yet when I got home, I’d spent the better part of the night unable to crash, my brain on overdrive thinking about Caterina—Cate—and what it was about her that gave me pause.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” Mo shouted from the bleachers. “Wanna go to the diner?”
I nodded, tossed a hoodie over my drenched chest, lifted the hood over my damp hair, and shoved my feet into slides. We slipped out of the field house and made our way toward College Avenue. The fall air was damp and the campus still quiet; mostly everyone who was anyone was sleeping off a hangover.
Once we were seated in our usual corner of the diner, Cassie came over to take our order.
“You’re early?” Her statement came out as a question.
I gave her a chin bump and a wink. “What’s up, Cass?”
“Not much. Working a double like always, paying the bills.” She rested her hands on the table, leaning forward the slightest bit to give us a full view of her double-Ds.
Yeah, we’d had a few rounds together during my freshman year. Cassie was a ball baby, and made no secret she’d like a way out of her blue-collar life . . . and she’d like the easy way to get there.
But we weren’t a fit. She was too domineering for me; I liked to be in charge in the bedroom. She was also pretty demanding out of the bedroom, and I definitely wasn’t ready for that back then.
“No doubt you look good doing it.” Mo winked at her. “I’ll have chicken and waffles, a large milk and big water, and a fruit bowl,” he rattled off, cutting short the small talk.
“Steele?” She lifted her eyebrow when addressing me, rolling her pencil along her bottom lip.
“I’ll have the hangover special, eggs over easy, turkey bacon, and home fries. Milk and water too.”
“Okay. Be right back with your drinks.”
As soon as she’d walked away, Mo leaned forward and said, “Christ, you could bend her over this booth and do her from behind, and she wouldn’t give a good goddamn.”
“I’m not going to, so don’t get in a panic. You’ll still get your waffles.” I snagged a straw from the dispenser and pulled off the wrapper, ready for my drink. “My throat’s dry as fuck,” I muttered.
“What’d you do last night?”
“I went three rounds too many with a vodka gimlet, some fancy combination Missy was mixing at the bar. The place was lit up with smoke, someone brought a hookah—you know, I didn’t hit that. Not my thing. Got the NBA whispering to me that I got to stay clean. Fuck that, they’re haunting me in my dreams.”
“I hear you.”
Cassie brought our milk and water, then our food, and Mo and I ate in relative silence, breaking for a little hoop talk before heading back to our places.
Back in my apartment, I tried to get into a video game, but eventually passed out in my chair. I awoke sometime later to the radio blaring. Wiz Khalifa faded out, and Sonny’s voice boomed throughout my pad.
“Sonny here with your Sunday jam, helping you all get over your partied-out selves and get ready for the week. Who’s studying? Tweet me, tell me where you’re at; we’ll play you something special for being a good boy or girl! On a much more serious vibe, I’m about done with my tenure in this neck of the woods, the vast wasteland known as Ohio. I’ve got to say, I’m going to be sad to leave. That’s why I need to do two things before I go—see another NCAA title in ball, and find a replacement.”
“Fuck, this guy has got a hard-on for you,” Ashton mumbled over Sonny’s monologue.
The shock jock ramped up the drama. “Last time Sonny B. saw a ’ship was with my main man, Jamel, four years ago. But my new main guy, Blane Steele, is going to give us the gold this year. How do I know? Right here on this station, he promised his undivided attention was going to ball. No more girls, no more escapades. If you’re listening, Steele, call in and let me know how that’s going! In the meantime, I finally got an intern, listeners. A regular badass on the mic, Catie P. is here in all her throaty splendor to give you our next song.”
Ashton turned big eyes my way. “Shee-it,” he drawled out. “Sonny B. is handing his mic over to a lady?”
“Shhh. No one asked you, Denube.” I waved a hand to hush my roommate and moved to the edge of my seat.
And there she was, Cate coming over the airwaves.
“Thank you, Sonny.” She drew out his name, the n’s rolling off her tongue like it was the first time she’d said his first name, and it probably was. “Pleasure’s all mine to be here at Hafton News 96.9, but I have to say, I have some pretty big shoes to fill. Or maybe not, now that I look at them.”
Low-pitched feminine laughter came through the speakers, filling my head as she got her dig in with Sonny.