5. Cruz

"Iwish I would've got more reps today," Jagger grumbles. "I was just getting into a groove when practice ended."

"You gotta get faster," I tell him.

"What do you mean faster? Have you seen my forty? Top five on the team."

"Three of the guys faster than you are receivers though," Cameron says. "And not freshman."

It's fairly unusual for freshmen to start in college, but it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Jagger has a legitimate shot. He's got great hands, easily as good as the other receivers on the roster, and if he can get downfield the fastest he'll take one of the top two spots. I'm guessing he'll need a few more weeks to work on his speed, but after that… I'd bet on him.

Cameron's a contender too. He isn't the biggest or strongest, but on the field he finds this burst of power that makes him hard to beat, and he's pretty effective at creating a hole for our offense to break through to get downfield. And when he's blocking for Jagger, I swear that power somehow doubles. If Jagger's in the game, chances are Cam will be too.

As for me, I've got good hands, but where I really excel is yards after the catch. I'm hard to tackle, so I typically get four or five yards on top of whatever we gain on the pass. I'm pretty good at blocking too, while the guy a few years ahead of me isn't. I've already earned my starting spot, and a few games into the season Jagger and Cameron are climbing the ranks for sure.

"I'll be faster in a game," Jagger says. "All that energy and adrenaline from the stadium gives me an extra gear."

"Well, try to find that in practice so Coach can see it and you get a chance to be on the field during a game," I say.

"Yeah, yeah. I gotchu." Jagger nods. "So, how's the genius dorm working out?"

"I like it. It's quiet."

"And your roommate?" Cameron asks. "Is it weird living with someone who doesn't play football?"

"It's kind of refreshing actually. He's not a fan, so aside from asking how it's going just to be polite we don't talk about it."

"I thought you were gonna say it's refreshing to live with someone who doesn't have sweaty practice gear filling up the laundry basket." Jagger gives Cam a playful nudge with his shoulder.

"Your shit is just as sweaty as mine." Cam retaliates with a shove of his own.

"Sweaty, not stinky," Jagger corrects.

"What's the difference?" I ask.

"One makes you want to puke while the other is just wet." Jagger taunts Cam with a wink, to which Cam retaliates by trying to stuff Jagger's head in his armpit.

"Take a good whiff, Kitcat," he says as Jagger tries to wrestle free.

This goes on for several more minutes, because of course it does with these two. I'm sort of relieved when we hit the fork in the path where I branch off to get to my dorm.

"See you guys tomorrow." I give them a little wave and head off, chuckling to myself as they argue who can keep their head buried in the other's laundry the longest before having to shower off the stench.

Shower.

That word causes my mind to drift to Liam, and the sounds I hear coming from the bathroom every evening, which are distracting to say the least. More than once I've tried to imagine what he's doing in there since it doesn't sound anything like my showers, and I'm curious how he gets himself to make those noises.

They're loud, and low, nothing like what I've heard the few times I've tried to hook up with women, who might give a little moan, or a gasp, but nothing as rough and raw as what drifts through the door when Liam's in there. Hell, I've never even made those sounds, and we have the same equipment, so either he's just more vocal, or he's doing something I've never thought to try. A different pace, or pressure, or spot.

Whatever it is, he emerges with flushed skin and sleepy eyes, and promptly passes out on his bed, sleeping through the night like a baby.

I feel like a bit of a creeper for knowing that. I'm not watching him on purpose, it's just hard not to notice how sated he is when his head hits the pillow. I've never felt that myself, and I think part of me wonders what it's like. I'm almost envious that he can experience arousal so easily.

It's not that I feel deprived by being asexual–I can't exactly miss what I've never had–but seeing it up close in a way I've never been privy to before is interesting. It doesn't get me aroused exactly, but I'm not oblivious to it either. Just…intrigued, I think.

I purge the shower sound topic from my mind when I get to our room and find Liam at his desk, his biology homework spread over the surface. "Carson?" My eye catches a name on one of the papers. "That's the same professor Jagger and Cameron have. Are you in their class?"

"Maybe." He shrugs without picking his head up. "I've never seen them, but it's a big lecture hall."

"Is that class as tough as I've heard it is?"

"Not yet, but it's still early. How was practice?"

The question makes me smile, since I know he doesn't really care but is trying to for my sake.

"Pretty good actually. I think we're in decent shape for the game this weekend. Since I know you won't be watching with the rest of the campus, what are your plans?"

Liam still hasn't admitted why he dislikes the game, and even though I'm curious I haven't pushed it. I have the distinct feeling that his reason, whatever it is, is more personal than merely not understanding or enjoying it. And since he doesn't get too deep during our conversations I have to assume there's a story there. One I hope he'll be comfortable enough to share some day, but I can't really complain about him taking his time to open up.

As much as I'd like the two of us to become good friends, I'm also wary of that. After what happened with Xavier… There's a void in me that I'm not sure can be filled. I'm not even sure I want to fill it. I think I have to leave that space for Xavier, even if it means that emptiness never goes away. But if I get too close to Liam, or anyone, I wonder if that might take over the space reserved for the person I expected to be my best friend for life.

I feel constantly torn between missing what it's like to have a best friend and worrying that it'd be a betrayal to have that with anyone other than Xavier. So, while part of me wants to have that again, I'm trying to find the balance between making new friends that aren't best friends.

"No idea." Liam drops his pencil on the desk and leans back to stretch. "Maybe I'll go for a hike or something. There's supposed to be some good trails around."

"Are they on the bus line?"

"I've got a car, remember?" He gives me a look that says ‘did you get hit in the head today?'

"Yeah, but I thought you had to park it way across campus and there's a bus stop two blocks away."

"A cross-campus walk is infinitely better than riding the bus." He rolls his eyes at me. "Unlike someone I know, my legs aren't always tired from practice."

"I earned those tired legs. What's your excuse for being hungry all the time?" I groan as his stomach rumbles loud enough to shake the room. "Seriously, I'm a little afraid of how often we'll have to feed you when you start your own practices. Let's go before you bring the whole building down."

Eating together at the dining hall has become our nightly routine, and while I miss the camaraderie of eating with my teammates the way we did over the summer, eating with just Liam gives me time to unwind. Plus, I think he talks more when it's just the two of us.

"Don't you get tired of eating the same thing all the time?" Liam points a fry at my grilled chicken before dipping it in ketchup and chomping on it.

"You eat a burger almost as much as I eat grilled chicken." I take a bite of my admittedly plain dinner.

"Yeah, but burgers have flavor." He punctuates that statement with an enormous bite, and a satisfied moan that almost resembles what I hear on the other side of the bathroom door each night. It makes my own stomach flutter, or object to the food I'm putting in it.

"Delicious." Liam mmms again, and I have to shake off the image of him salivating over a burger in the shower. Obviously, that's not what he's doing in there, but the thought makes me chuckle.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how the roles will be reversed when lacrosse is in season. I'll be the one enjoying my dinner while you're sticking to your game diet."

"That's the beauty of club sports." He pops another fry in his mouth. "No such thing as game diets. Just think, if you're one of the guys who goes pro, this is what you'll be eating for the next ten to fifteen years." He punctuates that thought with a wry smirk, which makes me grin in return.

He doesn't know it, but ever since that first night when I ironically dubbed him Sunshine, I've been trying to get him to smile more. I can't lay it on too thick or he'll catch on, but when I can I throw in comments that are just goofy enough to give him pause, like taking the bus when he has a car, or having a game diet when I know he won't need one for club sports. It's slow going, but I'm wearing him down.

"There are worse things than a healthy diet. Heart disease, diabetes, cancer." I'd swear Liam flinches at my examples, but it's gone so fast I start to wonder if I imagined it, so I finish my thought. "I can avoid all that by eating healthy."

"You can reduce your risk, yeah, but diet isn't foolproof."

"Shouldn't a future doctor be preaching about the benefits of healthy eating?" I spear a piece of broccoli and paste a smile on my face as I chew on it.

"Everything in moderation is a better motto." He takes another bite and hums spitefully, "Mmm."

"Whatever." I roll my eyes to keep myself from gloating. "So, why medicine?"

"Hmm?" Liam arches one brow independently of the other, a gesture I find fascinating since I can't do it myself.

"Why do you want to work in medicine?" I repeat. "Family business?"

Though it's subtle, I can see Liam's posture get a little more rigid, almost like he's putting up a force field. I don't follow why that is–I can't imagine why a question about careers would be crossing a line–yet I get the distinct feeling I'll have to tread carefully going through the door I just opened.

"Why do you assume it's a family business?"

I take a minute to think of the nicest way to answer. "You don't really strike me as a people person, and I think you have to be to deal with patients. No offense."

"I people with you just fine."

"You do." I agree. "But you sort of have to since we share a room. With others you seem a little guarded."

"And you know this because we hang out with other people so often." He snorts and takes another bite of his dinner.

"Sort of, yeah."

"You know that makes no sense, right?"

"It makes total sense," I disagree. "You don't go to dinner with anyone else, you never mention anyone else, so I don't think you're peopling with anyone else."

"I'm selective," he says, and something about his deadpan delivery has me cracking up.

"Glad I made the cut." I grin broadly.

"Like you said, I'm sort of stuck with you."

He's making jokes. I guess the career conversation is a safe one after all.

"Seriously though," I continue once I can talk without laughing. "Why a doctor when you don't love people?"

"I could be a surgeon and only work on unconscious patients." He points out.

"Is that your plan?"

He wrinkles his nose. "Fuck no. Too much blood."

"You don't like blood?"

"It's not that I don't like it, I just don't want to look at it every day," Liam licks a drop of ketchup off his fingers, and yeah, now I can see how a daily dose of blood might not be appealing. "I picked pre-med so I can help people. I'll figure out what to focus on later."

"So, you don't come from a bunch of doctors?"

Liam's posture seems to stiffen a bit before he subtly shakes his head. "No."

Though his tone isn't rude, it definitely gives the impression he's done talking about his choice of major, so I don't push it.

Time to get him to use that mouth for a smile.

"Well, I come from a line of mechanics. My grandpa fixed planes in the army before he opened an auto repair shop, which my dad now owns."

"Now that engine oil comment you made the other day makes sense. So, you're breaking away from tradition by studying engineering then?"

"Sort of. I'm focusing on automotive engineering. I don't know if I want to focus on engine design or structural design though, but either way it still involves cars. That's just my fall back though, since I'm obviously going to the NFL." I paste a grin on my face as I pop a piece of broccoli in my mouth.

It doesn't have quite the same effect as chomping on a french fry, but I think I make it work.

I can see him fighting the pull on his lip as he asks, "And what then, if you don't make the NFL. You go back home and take things over from your dad?"

"That's not my first choice, but it's not a bad one either. I'll just see how things unfold. Will you go back to Arizona?"

Liam's gaze hardens. "Not if I can help it."

I'm waiting for him to elaborate, since I figure you don't have that kind of opinion about your hometown without reason, but instead of giving me any details he stuffs the last bite of his burger in his mouth and starts gathering his trash. "Ready to head back?"

The abrupt end to the conversation once again has me wavering between wanting to know more and feeling relieved Liam didn't overshare. He's much better about boundaries than I am, which is something I could learn from. Boundaries are good. Boundaries will allow me to be Liam's friend without betraying Xavier.

"Yeah." I finish my chicken and walk with him to return our trays to the kitchen, though even with that little pep talk about not overstepping, I can't stop my mind from spinning.

If I'm not afraid to go home after everything that happened with Xavier, what could've possibly happened in Arizona that makes Liam not want to go back?