Everyone knows that Madison is screwing around behind Cash’s back but he either doesn’t seem to care or he hasn’t figured it out yet. Honestly, I think it’s that he’s avoiding reality. I know if I was in his shoes I’d be avoiding reality too. He was planning on proposing to her the night we won the state championship in high school. Until…
Saylor, who’s watching us in the mirror pipes up. “You guys need to be careful. Cash is right over there.”
Colton gives him a disgusted look. “Who the fuck cares man? He’s a tool.”
Saylor laughs setting down the weights then turns to walk towards us. He’s a big guy, probably close to 250 and 6’4”. Removing his hat he runs his hands over his dark hair and then replaces it. “Yeah, Colton, he’s a tool that just so happened to save that game for us last week where you were tripping over your feet every other play and Jet here couldn’t make a catch to save his life.”
I want to laugh. I really do but I don’t. Instead I just keep lifting.
“So set us straight then.” Jet pushes Saylor’s wide shoulder. “Is he just that dumb that his girl is fucking around and he doesn’t know?”
“I don’t know, man.” Saylor’s not giving up the details on his boy and I respect that about him. “That’s not my business.”
“Well, give us something here.” Colton says. They’re like a bunch of fucking girls. “Are they still fucking around with each other? I never see them together. I never see him with anyone. Dude’s probably gay.”
Saylor rolls his eyes and sits down at the bench beside me. “He’s not gay, assholes. He probably gets more pussy than the both of you combined. And he leaves at least once a week at three AM and I know for a fact he ain’t going to the gym. He’s with Madison.”
Jet and Colton don’t seem to give a shit and that doesn’t surprise me in the least. Madison is fucked up and this is what she is doing to cope.
I need to get the hell away from this conversation. I don’t need any more drama in my life. I create enough of it myself. With shaking arms I give one last push up and place the bar in the rack and lock it in place.
I reach for my water and towel, I shouldn’t say anything, but I do, I just can’t hold back. They don’t seem to understand that Cash and Madison have a long history. I smile at Jet and Colton. “What’s entertaining is that you two act like she actually gives a shit about you, much less remembers your dicks the next day. She never will.” Is all I say before I walk away not even giving them a second glance.
There is one treadmill open in the long row of them, its right next to Cash. I need the exercise. I need the exhaustion so I step up on the machine. I place my water bottle in the holder and my towel on the hand railing. I feel Cash’s eyes on me so I turn my head in his direction. He stares coldly at me for a second before pushing the stop button and getting off the machine.
Nice.
We haven’t spoken in years. At least not off the field. I dig into my pocket and pull out my iPod and earbuds. Finding a fast, heavy song I crank it up and then turn the treadmill up as fast as it will go. I should start out slow but I don’t. I need to run the hell away from Cash, Macy, Madison, that night, everything. The voices keep following me though, no matter how fast I run, they are faster and louder than the music I use to drown them out.
After my afternoon practice I meet up with Jay Lucas in the quad just after nightfall. It’s a secluded part, dark and off the walkways so no one can see. Jay’s the drug dealer I’ve been buying from since freshman year. Jay is a tall lanky guy covered in tattoos from head to toe. He has these eyes that look right through you like you aren’t worth the same air he breathes. Jay is not someone you ever want to double cross.
Jay greets me with a nod, never meeting my eyes. Our greetings are minimal, less is always better, especially with him. “You got my stuff?”
Jay reaches into his pocket and pulls out the dime bag. It’s only enough for one joint. I can’t risk being caught with more on school grounds.
I slap the money in his hand and with my free one I take my weed. Jay and I give a curt nod and he’s off until he gets another text from me.
I put the weed in the front pocket of my jeans and turn and head for my truck. I drive over to the stadium parking in the furthest spot in the lot and cut the engine. Campus Police know my truck since this is my usual parking place so they leave me alone. It doesn’t take me long before I have the joint in my hand, taking the first puff and hold it in my lungs for as long as I can. Once I feel the burning, I slowly let it out as smoke fills the cab of my truck. I reach over and turn up the radio, the beats of “Am I Wrong” by Nico & Vinz flow through the speakers. I laugh, the song title fitting the setting.