“I guess that’s okay. She’s not a jock chaser, right?”
Hammer snorts. “Yeah, Campbell, we got rules and standards. Only tens at the table. Your sister a ten?”
“Did this become Deliverance country and I didn’t notice?” Campbell shoots back. He’s not an asshole and he’s got some balls. “Maybe where you come from, you spend long hours deciding whether your sister is fuckable, but I prefer to do that outside my immediate family tree.”
“You’re good with first cousins, right?” Hammer says in a serious tone, but I know he’s still fucking with Campbell. We’re not allowed to haze anymore, so we have to get our digs in where we can.
“Yeah, first cousins are fair game.” They exchange fist bumps. Sick fuckers, I grin. Sick fuckers, but my sick fuckers.
“But, seriously, what’s she look like?” Hammer presses.
“You better tell him or he won’t stop asking until dinner tonight. You don’t want that kind of headache.” I throw my sweaty jock and work out gear in the laundry and grab my towel to cover my junk. The locker room got renovated over the off-season and now the showers are on the other side of the building. The team rules require us to cover up with towels because there’s a hallway in between. Genius design, boys.
Campbell rolls his eyes. “She’s about five foot eight. Long brown hair. Works out, although she needs to be careful, because she blew out her right knee in eighth grade. Uneven surfaces are a bitch for her.”
I stop and backtrack. Tall and athletic with a right knee injury? “What happened in eighth grade?”
“She was playing flag football. A douchebag with an inferiority complex and bad technique took her down. He ended up crushing her right knee.”
“Man that sucks.” Hammer shudders. “No more talk about that. Bad juju for the locker room.”
“I thought you had a brother named Eliot,” Jesse calls.
“Nah, my sister’s name is Eliot because my dad had naming rights.”
Tall and athletic with a right knee injury, and a boy’s name? She said it was different. It has to be her.
“Yeah, bring your sister to dinner.” The smile I turn on Campbell is so big he stumbles back. “It’s good for the team that we get to know your family.”
“Since when?” Hammer stands, buck ass naked. “I asked if you wanted to have dinner with me and my sister this summer, and you said no.”
“Your sister tried to molest me under the table during the family dinner at the Spring game,” I remind him.
“Someone’s got to punch your V-card, man. Might as well be my sister.”
“You know the rules,” Matty, another lineman, interrupts. He’s got dark eyebrows from his mother’s Columbian side that always makes him look serious. “No girlfriends. No sisters.”
“That’s a stupid ass rule. My sister is high quality WAG material,” Hammer protests. Hammer’s tried to get one of us to take his sister off his hands ever since he found out she was dating a twenty-five-year-old.
“Your sister is also underage.” I tighten my grip on the towel. I’d sat across from Hammer’s then seventeen-year-old sister, who had rubbed her foot against my dick the entire three-hour dinner. I ended up leaving my seat and standing for the last hour, citing a slight groin pull.
“You’re a virgin?”
We all swivel back to Campbell, who appears rooted to the spot.
“Yeah, man, but don’t bring that up at any parties.” Hammer rushes over and Campbell backs up so Hammer’s free-swinging dick doesn’t slap Campbell in the balls.
“You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.” It’s not a secret and I’m certainly not ashamed.
Hammer puts his arm around Campbell. “Jack Flash, you were fly out there today, but let me tell you a secret. You will get no * at a party this year if you bring up Masters’ V-card. All those sweet honeys rubbing against you on the dance floor will get it into their heads that we all want virtuous chicks. We don’t. We want to get laid.”
I roll my eyes. These guys haven’t spent a night without company since they stepped foot on campus.
“Don’t forget the line of girls who want to be the one to convince Masters to give it up,” Matty chirps.
“Yeah, man, it poisons the well. Don’t do it.” Hammer makes a gun with his fingers and points it at Jack, who appears dumbfounded by this information. Newbies. What can you do?
Laughing, I leave to take a shower while Campbell deals with the truth laid on him by the team.
When I get out, the reason for the new towel rule is standing in the hallway with her eyes pinned to the floor—Stella, one of the team managers, who happens to be the coach’s daughter.
“Coach wants you and Ace in his office now.”
“What for?” Ace comes up.