Chapter 2 #2
The rest of the squad seemed to be in good spirits when I finally walked into the locker room, despite what awaited us on that field.
Wide grins split their faces as they filled each other in on the latest drama and gossip.
I waved at them when they called my name before I dropped my bag on the floor, sinking into the chair in front of the mirror near my locker.
“So, how was last night?” Kingsley appeared out of nowhere, leaning back against the lockers.
I glanced her way but rolled my eyes. “Oh, c’mon, Sav!
You go home with one of the hottest guys to find his way into the Valley in like…
ever, and you give me the silent treatment?
” Her freshly manicured hands fell to her hips.
“Cass and I tried to text you, but…Oh my gosh. Wait, was it bad? Tell me it wasn’t bad.
Oh, sweetie! I’m so sorry. Your first one-night stand, and it sucked. ”
“Kins, breathe!” I laughed, pulling my hair into a ponytail. “It wasn’t bad. I just…I don’t have anything to say.”
“That’s all I get?” Kingsley’s blue eyes narrowed, and she groaned dramatically when I shrugged. “What am I going to do with you, Savannah Williams?”
“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” I said, swapping out my long sleeve for a tank top. “Look okay?”
“Yeah, just don’t let Cathy see that thing on your chest.”
What is she talking about?
The smirk that spread across my friend’s lips made me paranoid.
Turning back to the mirror, my eyes were immediately drawn to the dark discoloration of skin on my shoulder.
If either coach saw it, I’d never hear the end of how having a hickey in such a prominent place was not ladylike and not appropriate Wildcat behavior.
The idea to curse John came to mind, but as soon as I thought about his mouth on my skin, it killed the impulse entirely.
“I’ll take that as evidence you had a great time last night,” Kingsley said, trying to hide her smirk.
I glared at her, replacing the tank top with my long-sleeve practice top. “Shut up.”
“Hey, mission accomplished, right?” She looped her arm through mine after I double-checked my appearance in the mirror to make sure no more surprises were waiting for me. “We went out to take your mind off Conner, and it seems like we succeeded. So, mission accomplished!”
Holy shit, she’s right, I thought as we walked out to the field. I hadn’t thought about Conner once since John had come to my aid. I had been too busy thinking about the one man I knew I couldn’t have.
Kingsley and Cassandra finally stopped asking questions about that night about a month ago.
They’d randomly bring it up, trying to pry any information from me they could, especially when I’d turn down anyone who came up to me when we’d go out.
But the truth was, I don’t want to start hooking up with other guys—John or no John. That wasn’t me.
My phone vibrates from somewhere on the bed, ripping me from the memories, and before I can find it, there are five more dings. That can only mean one thing: the Williams sibling group chat. Years ago, my youngest brother, Bodhi, had properly named it The Inner Circle.
The first message is from my second-oldest brother, Nash.
It comes with a link to an application for tryouts at Elite Wrestling Entertainment set to take place next month.
He cannot be serious. Nash is a lot of things, but a professional wrestler is not one of them.
When we were little, Nash and Crew were obsessed with wrestling; without fail, they would watch EWE every Monday night and Saturday morning.
Somehow, I always found myself caught in the middle of their matches, until Crew grew out of it by the time he turned fifteen and got a girlfriend.
Nash, though, never did. He still watches every week, but he has finally come to accept that it’s not real… I think.
A wave of laughing faces floods the chat after that.
What is that supposed to mean? I could be a wrestler if I wanted to be. Between my background in cheerleading, volleyball, and dance, I could hold my own in the ring.
That one stings a little, but I know the twins don’t mean it the way I’m taking it.
Blake and Bodhi are the youngest Williams siblings.
They came as a surprise, born five years after my parents decided they were done having kids.
They’re good boys, but too smart for their own good, and sometimes think they’re better…
no, smarter than their older siblings. Mamá and Papá would never admit it—refuse to, actually—but they spoil the twins, and in my humble opinion (not that it matters), I think it’s setting them up to be crushed by the real world sooner rather than later.
Sometimes, I worry for them when they go off to college in two years.
I try to think of a response, but the only one that comes to mind shocks me.
Their remarks ignite a desire within me to not only prove the twins wrong, but all four of my brothers.
And proving them wrong would mean…trying out for EWE.
What am I saying? That’s crazy. I’m not going to try out for EWE.
I know they’ve been going back and forth for a few minutes now, but my brain hasn’t moved on from Nash’s text daring me to try out. The longer I stare at it, the more I think I’m starting to consider it…No, what am I saying?
“Fuck it,” I say, opening the link Nash sent earlier. What’s the harm in trying? “Not like I’ll make it anyway.” My fingers tremble slightly the whole time I fill out the required information. One of the questions stops me: How many years have you been wrestling?
Is that a requirement? Surely not. It can’t be that hard. Whatever moves they throw at me, I can figure it out. And if all else fails, I’d follow what everyone else is doing.
Taking a deep breath, I enter a zero in the space before coming to the end.
The bright red “Submit” button stares back at me, but my thumb only hovers over it.
Am I really going to do this? This isn’t me.
This isn’t even close to what I want to do with my life, but maybe that’s the point.
I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to do after college, but I can’t find the answer.
I’ve been thinking about stepping down from the Wildcats after this season.
This will be my third season with the team, and I’m not sure I have another one left in me.
I’m supposed to graduate in May, which leaves me only six more months to find something else to do if I decide not to stick with the team, and I’ve procrastinated lining up a job after graduation.
Maybe this is the change I’ve been looking for.
My thumb presses down, and in less than a second, the confirmation page appears. Thank you for submitting your application to Elite Wrestling Entertainment. We will be in touch with your next steps!
Holy shit, I did it.
The conversation between my brothers has finally died down, but something tells me it’s about to start up again.
Fortunately, I have to get ready to leave for the stadium, which means I won’t have time to answer the slew of texts about to hit my phone.
A smile tugs at my lips as I type the words and hit send, followed by a picture of the confirmation page, before tossing my phone in my purse.