at me. “You having a good time? Talking to one of your girlfriends?”
Tristan Elliot.
He was one of the younger members on the team, and from the moment we met, I knew he’d drawn a target right on my back. Tristan was always coming in second in rankings for the team, always hot on my heels and always a few points away from being the MVP.
Tristan liked to joke around with me a lot, pretending that he and I were closer to friends than enemies, but we both knew deep down that Tristan would’ve pushed me down a flight of stairs if he thought it’d get him closer to taking my spot.
Although, I couldn’t fault him for his ambition. Honestly, in a lot of ways, he reminded me of the way I was when I was his age, only concerned about being the best on the field, not thinking about the future that came after football.
“I was talking to my sister,” I finally answered his question as I looked up at him.
“That sounds boring as hell,” Tristan replied. “You should look up this one girl on Instagram, Felicity B. She’s always down for anything, and I heard she’s looking for a new boyfriend, but it turns out I’m not what she’s looking for.”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“Because she only dates guys on the bench!” Tristan laughed at his own joke. “Seriously, though, man. Don’t you think it’s about time for you to retire for good? Sitting on the bench really suits you.”
“You just want me to sit down, so people will actually know who you are.” I smiled. “It must be really hard being the second-best player on the team.”
“That’s the problem with you old people, man. You never move out of the fucking way.” Tristan shook his head. “How am I supposed to take over if you won’t step the fuck down, Hunter? When are you going to finally pass the ball?”
“I’ll pass the ball when you prove you can actually catch it. Or did you forget about that fumble last weekend? Because ESPN sure as hell didn’t.”
“Oh, you really want to bring up old shit?” Tristan scoffed. “I’m not the only one who’s dropped the ball a few times. You might keep it together for the cameras, but I see the way you slip and slide around practice, like you’re about to fall the fuck over—”
“That’s because it’s practice,” I cut him off. “I keep my mistakes in practice. Why don’t you try that sometime?”
“Fuck you, asshole!” Tristan momentarily dropped his friendly façade. “You’re going to screw up, sooner or later, and I’m going to be right there to see that shit.”
“You could wait for me to screw up or you could try getting better at your goddamn job—”
“What the hell are you two doing?” Lou walked up to our conversation, glaring between the both of us. “Are you wasting this team’s time with a bullshit argument?”
“Aw, we weren’t having an argument, Coach.” Tristan grinned. “We were just having a conversation.”
“Bullshit!” Lou angrily clapped before pointing to the brim of his hat, the team’s logo clearly labeled on the fabric. “Do you know how much I sacrifice for this team? My daughter’s graduating from her theater program today and I’m missing it so I can be here with you fucking assholes. Do you think this is how I wanted to spend my afternoon?”
“No, Coach,” Tristan and I answered at the same time.
“Then, why don’t you show me and the rest of the team a little respect?” Lou went on. “Get your shit together! And Tristan, why aren’t you running through your plays? You think talking to a guy on the bench is going to get your mile up any faster?”
“No, Coach, I was just—”
“Why are you still talking? Go! Go! Go!” Lou motioned toward the field. “Unless you want to join your friend on the bench here.”
“No, Coach. You got it, Coach!” Tristan shouted before he ran off in the opposite direction of our conversation.
“I’m sorry, Coach. Tristan just came over here and started showboating—”
“It’s always someone else’s fault, isn’t it, Hunter?” Lou stared down at me. “When are you going to learn to take responsibility for your own shit?”
“So, what? I’m just supposed to ignore Tristan when he’s being an asshole?”
“No, you’re supposed to learn how to walk away.” Lou began to walk away from our conversation. “See? Just like this. This is how you walk away from a pointless fucking conversation.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I murmured, my eyes still