21

Kassie

Could've Been Better

Imagine the look on my face when I found out one crucial and devastating piece of information - Ryan Cross wasn't just a guy who chucked footballs on an empty field with five of his closest drunk buddies. He was good . I couldn't tell linemen from pointmen and even I could see how good he was.

The stadium was swamped in blue face paint, I couldn't hear myself above the cheers. And when the team came out on the field? It was a madhouse.

Especially when Ryan appeared.

Twenty thousand people yelled, " FOUR-A-CROSS, FOUR-A-CROSS. " Cameras flashed everywhere, and up on the big cam, his number four jersey made an appearance for everybody to scream over. Add that to the crashing against each other on the regular and the panic when the scores came too close, it was a different experience than anything I expected.

"What?" Ryan shifted to glance at me from the driver's seat. He was freshly showered, practically gleaming, and his usual messy hair was slicked back. "What is it?"

How could I explain? The whole day had been one whiplash after another. "You didn't tell me you could actually play."

"You didn't think I could play?"

"I didn't think you could play like that . Look at me, I'm so surprised, I haven't touched your car's radio at all ," I said, shaking my head in shock.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Ryan paused. "Should I be thanking that?"

"I don't know." I blinked and tried to settle back down. But I pushed back from my seat again. "When you hit that guy in the first inning—?"

"We have quarters."

"The first nickel, the guy that hit you—"

"Which one?"

"You were this close to the end thing," I continued, not bothering to answer which player he was close to. Basically, it was all of them. "And he hit you—and you just…you bounced to the side and kept sprinting. How? "

Ryan drove for a while before answering me. But even if he was exhausted, he was more patient than I expected. Every correction was given in a soft, smooth voice. "They're a big school, but one of the worst football teams in Texas. It wasn't hard. He didn't distribute his strength correctly."

"Distribute his strength?" I repeated.

"Yes."

"All I'm saying is, if I would've animated that, they would've told me to up my frame rate."

"And that is…?" Ryan hesitated. "Good?"

"Is that good? Seriously, how fast are you? Have they tagged you like an animal and set you to run in a field? You were a blur ." I pressed two fingers against my temple, still in disbelief. "Can you do track? Double-sport it? Or is that a conflict of interests?"

"Conflict of interests."

Ryan shot me a wry smile. I had the weirdest feeling that he didn't know how to handle the conversation.

"It's Texas," he finally said. "Football is important. You have to be dedicated to it. That's why I can't do track too. It wouldn't make sense anyway. I'm too big."

Yes, you are , that traitorous little voice whispered from my brain.

Had to bypass the voice. "That throw in the third quarter was good. That was a good throw. I couldn't believe how fast it was when you…threw like that."

Ryan shrugged. "It could've been better."

"What?"

"It could've been better."

"This is the part where you thank me and admit I'm right."

Ryan made a noise at the back of his throat, squashing out the compliment. "It went Washington to Thau to Nolan, back to Thau, it could've been—"

"Motherfucker, I am trying to compliment you."

"It could've been better," Ryan reiterated in a firm voice. "We won the game. Practice is off tomorrow, but the team needs to talk about that for the recap."

I frowned. "Didn't you just recap after the game? Why was I waiting in the parking lot for half an hour?"

"That's the first recap. This'll be a recap with footage."

His car pulled into the driveway of a two-story light blue house, one of those best ones that still counted as campus housing.

Football players walked up the street, all tugged by the lure of cold beer and sizzling barbecue. More and more cars pulled up to the sidewalk. Everybody waved at us. I couldn't have named any of them if someone offered me money.

I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Is this after every game? Are we eating barbecue every week?"

"No, just this game." Ryan clicked the button on his keys, locking his car. "We knew it'd be easy."

"The cockiness rumors are unfounded, I see."

Taking a moment in front of the front door, he glanced down at me with a slow grin on his face. It was amazing how much a simple smile softened his features. It didn't erase the hard lines, but it eased the cold sculpture into a warm painting. "You could say that."

June's place was a National Lampoon writer's wet dream. Football players lounged on seventies-style furniture, all laughing and joking together, cheerleaders crowded around the kitchen, arguing over an R&B album, and the outsiders to the college sports life weren't dangling on the side. They were submerged in the culture. I was one of them.

"We have thirty minutes on the clock," Ryan reminded me. "We'll take pictures and head back to the training center, my physiotherapist said he could work in an appointment today."

My eyes flickered up to him. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. He's paid double on the weekends."

"But…you just had a game?"

Ryan raised his eyebrows at me and didn't say anything. His reply was pretty obvious. Yes, it was over the top. Yes, it was necessary. Both things coexisted. I almost asked if the rest of the football players were filing out of the party in thirty minutes but there was no way.

The back screen slid open, and the barbecue welcomed us. It was the same scene as inside but with a few picnic tables. King looked too funny in his Kiss the Cook apron, and a couple of football players dragged lawn chairs to make a circle.

Adam strode to our place on the grass. The girl with a high ponytail on his arm offered me a warm smile, but I couldn't remember her in the slightest. Was she at practice? She couldn't have been. The last one he brought was the girl with the bangles that got caught in a Marrs flag.

Adam grinned. "Are you two ready for Headbanded? "

"The kids' game?" I asked, confused.

"Oh, yeah." Adam's grin widened. "It's a way for June to show off how good King is at memorizing flashcards. I'm starting the betting pool. She'll ask King what her birth time was, astrological sign, and last time somebody nicked her car."

"I'm sorry." Ryan gave his teammate a hard look. "Did Kassie ask you?"