“And a decent quarterback, offensive line, and secondary.”
“That too.”
“Wait. Did you ask me when to text a girl?” Matty rouses from his football induced stupor. “Is this a Western co-ed?”
I nod.
He looks at me in disbelief. “You’re Knox Masters. Didn’t you just say your name?”
If only that’s what it took. Actually that’s all it did take most of the time. Having a jersey hanging in the closet was all some girls needed. Ellie is not one of those girls. Just my luck.
“I did, but she’s not jumping at the chance to go out with me.”
“Dude, wait, does this mean you’re going to have sex?”
I don’t answer, but I can’t help the shit grin that spreads.
“Holy fuck,” he shouts and starts to high five me. Then he stops abruptly, hand hanging in mid-air. “You can’t. I’m sorry to be a cock-blocking son of a bitch, but you can’t. We got the national championship on the line. You gotta keep that locked down.”
“Matty, you don’t get a say in when I have sex.” I pick up the remote and switch to the NFC preseason game.
“It’s a team issue,” he insists. He starts punching stuff into his phone.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I grab for the phone but he holds out one hand and presses send with the other. The damage is already done by the time I wrestle the phone from him. Sure enough, I see a group message for the entire defensive line to get the hell up to my apartment for an emergency meeting. The rush of shoes on the stairs thunders into the apartment before half the team bursts through.
“What’s the emergency?”
“Did Masters get hurt?”
“I was watching Adult Swim. This better be good.” The last comment comes from Hammer.
Matty stands up. “Masters here thinks he wants to mess with a good thing.”
Eight men, all weighing over two hundred pounds, crowd into my small apartment. If I got claustrophobic, I would freak out. Once the shit show gets started, though, it’s impossible to stop. I fold my hands behind my head and stare at the ceiling while the guys gear up.
They all want to stick their noses in because I’ve spent the last year harping on the importance of team. We win as a team and we lose as a team. Now we’re discussing my non-existent sex life as a team.
“What good thing?” Hammer grabs the Dorito bag and pours the remainder of the chips in his mouth. The other guys raid the fridge.
“Masters wants to lose the big V.”
“He wants to lose our game?” Jesse, a new starter on the line, asks. He’s ordinarily quiet, hanging out with his longtime girlfriend.
Hammer slaps him across the back of the hand. “Not V for Victory, numbskull. Virginity.” Hammer tosses the empty chip bag onto the coffee table. “Masters, my man, if you’re looking for tips you’ve come to the right place.” He muscles Matty aside and takes a seat. “First, to prevent a false start, jack off at home before you go out. If you’re out for more than a couple of hours, excuse yourself and pump another one out in the bathroom. That way you won’t get a reputation for being quick on the trigger. These chicks will spread that shit faster than crabs at a frat house. Second—”
“Shut up, Hammer. You’re supposed to be telling him to keep his pants zipped,” Matty snarls. “Not giving him tips on playing hide the salami.” At Hammer’s blank look, Matty throws up his hands. “Don’t you want to win? Masters here is the monster on field because he doesn’t play off the field. Haven’t you made that connection yet?”
“Ohhhh.” Hammer gets it.
I figure now is the time to step in. “Guys. We lost last year. That shellacking we took at the hands of the Ducks? That had nothing to do with what I did off the field and everything to do with the fact that we didn’t make the plays and they did. We didn’t get enough pressure on the quarterback. We allowed them to light up the backfield. They had us chasing players all over the field that didn’t even have the fucking ball. We lost because we played shitty ball. This year, we don’t play shitty ball. Not next week, not right before the bye, not in November.”
Matty’s wavering and Hammer looks troubled. Looks like I’ll have to talk in the terms Matty used. “Look, we haven’t won the championship in the last two years and I’ve kept to myself. Now’s the time to take chances.”
Hammer turns back to Matty. “Should we get Ace over here?”
“No way.” Matty shakes his head emphatically. “This is a defensive unit issue.”
I drop my head into my hands. It’s hard to believe my pursuit of Ellie has turned into this.
“Have you cleared this with Kintyre?” Hammer is the only one that calls my brother by his full name. Everyone else, including my mom, who named him Kintyre for reasons we can never confess to anyone, calls him Ty.
“Ty knows,” I say shortly.