He laughed, and then swung right back into seriousness. “I want you there, Kayla. It’d be really cool if you came.” He looked sheepish. “I accidentally mentioned you to my mom, and she got all excited. I need you to know, my mom said something like ‘I better meet her or you’ll be sorry.’ I don’t want to be sorry. She made a mechanic sorry once, and he was never heard from again.”
“Is that a threat, Eighty-Eight?” I said.
“No, it’s a request.” His blue eyes implored me. “I know it’s asking a lot, but I’d do it for you.”
I absolutely believed he would, and I looked away from the camera.
He had enormous pressure on him, and yet he didn’t pass it on to me. We’d talked about dating, and I’d never given him a real answer, and yet he hadn’t pushed to put a label on whatever it was we were doing. It felt like as long as I didn’t slap a title on our relationship, I was safe from having to tell my parents or the squad.
I was aware it was a total cop-out.
He must have been able to see I was about to say no, because he added, “Come on. You can practice your fake ‘I don’t hate Michigan’ face for when you’re on-air.” His expression deepened. “Also, pretty sure it’s easier for you to use me for sex if we’re actually together.”
I pinched my knees tight and was grateful he couldn’t see my response. The truth was I missed him. Not just sex, but being near him. Talking through video chat was nice, but it wasn’t the same. “I cannot believe I’m about to agree to this.” Maybe I was exhausted and it impaired my judgement. Tomorrow I’d come to my senses. “Fine. But I don’t have to like it.”
This smile was more brilliant than I’d ever seen from him. “Yeah? Fair enough. I’ve got a spare Michigan shirt you can wear, if you—”
“Go to hell!” My rebuttal was pure instinct, and Jay gave a deep laugh.
-23-
KAYLA
Ohio State beat Minnesota in a nail-biter, keeping us undefeated, but guess who else maintained a perfect record? I didn’t swear much, but my language was blue as I stared at the list. OSU had climbed to the number two spot in the polls, but hadn’t unseated the Wolverines. Even ESPN had them ranked number one.
Such bullshit. I could concede we didn’t have as many dazzling players on offense as Michigan did, but our offense was consistent. And our defense? We were to be feared.
Jay listened to me grumble about it all week, and then when another week rolled around, it happened again. We walloped Indiana, while the school up North handed Penn State’s asses to them. I was beyond annoyed and conflicted.
Couldn’t Michigan just lose one game, before we played them, so we could sit on top of the polls? Ugh. I wanted Jay to transfer to OSU. Not just so we could have his skills on the field, but so he could be right here.
I plugged in the dock lights in my room, climbed into my bed with a textbook, and tried to read. At ten p.m. my phone lit up with a text message from him.
Jay: Study session ran long, sorry. Okay if I crash and we talk tomorrow?
It was getting harder to find time now that the season was in full gear and we were balancing courses on top of it. We hadn’t talked other than a few texts this week. His fifteen-hour days were scheduled to the minute.
Breakfast. Class. Lunch.
Weights. Team meeting. Practice.
Dinner. Tutor session. Homework.
Only then did he get to sleep after his demanding day. As I was typing out my response, the three dots blinked, indicating he had more to say.
Jay: So tired last night. Fell asleep while jerking off.
Me: LOL! Was the porn you were looking at bad?
Jay: Wasn’t looking at porn. Was thinking about you.
Oh, good God. That turned me on to no end. I pictured him in his bed and his strong hand running down his length. Had he touched himself just as he’d shown me while leaning back against my door three weeks ago? All while he’d thought about me?
Jay: Can’t wait to see you again.
Jay: In my bed. No height restrictions.
I was looking forward to seeing him too, although I hadn’t told anyone about it. Not even Chuck.
Me: Height restrictions? Is that a short person joke?
Jay: No. We both know you’re tall enough to ride.
I snorted, but heat also simmered in my body at the memory of being on top of him. Suddenly, Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. I’d been dreading it the whole week, but all I needed was incentive. Going to the Michigan game might be the equivalent of a double root canal, but getting to be with Jay afterward would be my earned reward.
Me: Rest up, 88. I plan on multiple rides this weekend.
My stomach churned with unease as I shut and locked the door of my Kia Rio. I’d sort of hoped my car would break down during the three-hour drive up here. Or my Ohio State loyalty would jolt me like an invisible training collar as I crossed the border into the enemy’s state.
It was pleasant for October. Partly sunny and a light breeze, meaning I could wear a t-shirt and jeans. Picking out what to wear had been difficult. I wasn’t sure if I should dress to impress his parents, and in the end, I went with comfort. I slung my purse on a shoulder, stared at the screen of my phone to confirm where I was going, and then willed myself to put one foot in front of the other, shuffling toward the outskirts of the U-M campus.
I’d parked in a lot far away from the stadium, but it was already full of cars, and I reluctantly followed the mob of fans. A guy glanced at me and confusion was broadcasted on his face.
“A little early for a Halloween costume, isn’t it?” he asked.
I smiled, and he shrugged, moving off. I ignored the other looks I got, some accompanied with a what the fuck yell, and I trudged along. The crowd grew dense as we moved closer, and I kept my head down, studying the GPS. I’d only been here once before, during my sophomore year, and we’d gone from the buses straight into the stadium.
The tailgating area was bustling, and smoke from grills hazed upward. Blue temporary shades had been erected and staked down on the grassy lot beside trucks and SUVs, and Michigan flags flapped in the breeze as people lounged in folding chairs, drinking beer.
During gameday, my family did this same thing. Up until my freshman year, I’d tailgated with them, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed it until this moment. Cheerleading was amazing, but it could be stressful. Tailgating was a party. A way to relax and hang with friends while the promise of a win hung in the air just as much as the smell of brats and hamburgers cooking.
Only, this wasn’t relaxing. I spotted the tent I was looking for and slapped on my game face.
The conversation died as the two men standing behind the grill spotted me. The older of the two lifted his bushy eyebrows in surprise. “Jay wasn’t kidding when he said you’d be easy to spot. You must be Kayla.”
He wasn’t as tall as his son, but Jay’s father was a bear of a man. His hair was short and gray, parted neatly on the side. His Michigan football shirt did little to conceal his extra pounds around the middle, but he had kind eyes, a paler shade of blue than his son’s.