Chapter 6 #2
Besides, he’s the reason I’ve gotten this far. What would be the point, without him?
***
The party starts by accident.
At first, people just stuck around after their evaluation, waiting for the others and kicking balls around for fun. Then someone brought out a speaker, and once Coach left, Brian appeared with a backpack that clinked suspiciously.
And suddenly, there's a full soccer team celebration on the university's one and only field. A couple of the football players are still practicing farther down, poor guys. They still have their own evaluations coming up.
I heard the university wants to build another field somewhere. Honestly, it would be nice. Then we could stop stealing each other's practice times. Or at least party without listening to them grunt and tackle each other.
We keep the music low so campus security doesn’t come investigate, but there’s still shouting, laughing, and trick shots as people celebrate getting accepted onto the team and surviving the conditioning tests.
Julian shows up too, which causes an immediate wave of yelling despite the fact that he wasn’t even on the team last year. He brings Rowan with him for some reason.
Everyone, excited to see Julian, spends ten minutes yelling congratulations at him for graduating while also telling Julian to rejoin the team for his master's. During the entire time this happens, Julian and Rowan stand right next to each other like two magnets that have been glued to each other.
“Are you guys glued together?” I ask once things quiet down. Rich started a game of 1v12, with him laughing maniacally as he runs down the field with twelve others chasing after him.
Rowan rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of Julian’s waist. Julian beams.
“We’re dating,” Julian says with a smug smile. It’s hard to believe he was once the team’s obnoxious flirt. There was a semester when I genuinely thought dating Julian Mercer was a graduation requirement for some majors.
Now, Julian treats Rowan like he will die if they separate. It’s weird to watch as they explain their plans post-grad.
“I got a specialist position at Northbridge Strategy,” Rowan says, which Julian looks very pleased about.
“Cool,” I say. I have absolutely no idea what that is.
Then Julian launches into explaining the research project I helped him with last week that got him into his master’s program. He talks about data models and behavioral patterns and something about social signaling.
I nod, but the information slides off my brain like water over a soccer ball. All I can think about is the way his room looked like a serial killer’s conspiracy board. It’s probably related to that.
And you know what? I’m still not convinced there’s nothing weird going on between him and Rowan, but he seems proud of his project, so I pat his shoulder and congratulate him.
“Even if it started as a weird kink thing, I’m glad you’re happy,” I tell him sincerely.
Julian snorts, while Rowan just holds his face in his hands and groans.
As the two lovebirds continue going over their post-grad plans, my gaze starts to wander over the field. I finish my drink and pull out a new one from Brian’s backpack before spotting Colten.
He’s further out on the field, doing trick shots with Nico, who made the team during tryouts.
Nico flicks the ball up and tries an around-the-world. He almost pulls it off.
Colten pats Nico on the shoulder before showing him how to properly do it. Strange. He’s not usually this open with strangers. Do they know each other?
I watch them for a second, taking note of which drink Colten is on. So far, it seems like it’s only the one, which is good, given what happened at the last party.
At some point, I realize that I’m still wearing the sweaty shirt from evaluations. Gross.
Without really thinking about it, I pull it off, and the problem is solved.
“Jackson, put your shirt back on,” Brian immediately demands.
“No,” I say. Sure, it’s a bit chilly, but the idea of going all the way back to the locker rooms for a clean shirt is too much effort.
Julian covers Rowan’s eyes and glares at me. “Put those nipples away, they’re going to blind someone.”
“Jules, please let me see. I promise I won’t look at your friend’s nipples,” Rowan says, lightly tugging at Julian’s hand.
“No can do,” Julian replies, holding Rowan closer to him. “You need your eyes for your new job.”
Rowan just sighs deeply, leaning against Julian and accepting his fate.
I laugh and tuck the shirt into my shorts. The breeze, though chilly, still feels nice. I worked very hard for these muscles and don’t get to show them off enough, hard nipples and all.
Too bad there are no cute girls here. Just a bunch of sweaty, half-drunk guys.
I glance back toward the field and freeze.
Colten is glowing.
Which means—
My eyes slide toward Nico, who is in Colten’s direct line of sight. The kid is grinning while trying to bounce the ball with one foot.
My stomach does something weird.
Nope, no, that is not happening.
Colten may be gay, but he’s never dated a guy, so I have no idea what his type is. Still, if he dates Nico, a young disaster who is going to be expelled when—not if—RA Reyes finds his illegal dorm cat Princess, Colten will be dragged down with him. There’s no way I can let that happen.
I shotgun my nearly full beer and stand up. I stride toward them, ignoring Julian’s questioning sound and Rowan telling him he’s seen much worse, to which Julian makes an even louder and more panicked questioning sound.
Nico looks up as I approach, but Colten still has his eyes on the kid.
“Hey,” I say. Colten is still glowing, but he looks stiff, and his arms are crossed over his chest. Is he upset I ruined their time together?
“Patrick!” Nico exclaims, smiling. “You got any cool tricks?”
“Actually, Colten, can I talk to you?” I ask super casually, stepping closer.
“About what?” Colten asks, finally looking towards me.
I think really hard. What would convince Colten to leave this disaster romance in the making?
“…Stuff,” I finally say.
Colten raises an eyebrow.
“...Important stuff,” I clarify.
Colten rolls his eyes before looking back at Nico, who’s attempting to bounce the ball on his foot again.
Irritated, I ask Nico, as nicely as possible, “Want to see how a real soccer player does that?”
Colten slaps my shoulder in reprimand, but Nico just grins, kicking the ball over.
I flick the ball up with my foot and start juggling.
Left foot, right foot, thigh, shoulder.
Then I pop it up with a spin to it for an around-the-world, circling my foot over the ball before catching it on the tip of my cleats.
Nico whistles. “That was sick.”
“Thanks.” I glance at Colten. He isn’t watching. Instead, he’s looking over at Nico again, a faint glow still outlining his body.
I frown. What is so great about Nico? Colten is making a mistake if he’s thinking about dating that guy.
I need to distract him better and show Colten he needs to have higher standards. If his boyfriend can’t beat his best friend, me, then he doesn’t deserve Colten.
Time to escalate.
I flick the ball up again, higher this time, and perform a hop-the-world. My other foot loops around the ball mid-air before catching it.
“Try that,” I tell Nico, grinning victoriously.
He laughs. “No way! I only made the team today!”
I look at Colten again, who is still looking at Nico??
I bite my lip as hot irritation curls in my stomach.
“Colten, watch this,” I say loudly, trying to force him to pay attention to me.
I pop the ball up again and move into a crossover juggle, kicking one leg over the other while keeping the ball in motion. Then I do it again with the other leg, smoothly transitioning between each crossover as I continue to juggle the ball.
Even some of the other guys nearby cheer, but Colten is now physically turning away.
This is getting ridiculous. We do tricks together all the time, and at the very least, he would give me a critique. But not even watching at all?
So I go for the hardest trick I know, one I probably shouldn’t attempt while slightly buzzed.
With both feet, I do a rainbow flick to launch the ball up high from behind me, planning to do a full-body scorpion kick, which is basically a handstand.
It requires perfect balance and perfect timing.
And not being distracted by your best friend glowing at another guy.
My hand slips on the grass as I prepare for the scorpion kick, and I lose all traction when I push my legs in the air.
I crash onto my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.
And when I look up, the ball hits my face. Hard.
I fall back onto the grass, defeated.
“Is that how that trick's supposed to go?” Nico asks. Some of the other guys that my tricks drew in just laugh at me. Rude.
I lie there, face in the dirt and my dignity gone.
Then Colten is suddenly there, right above me like an angel from heaven.
“Patrick, what’s wrong?” he asks, kneeling beside me.
“You were glowing,” I say, unable to help the accusatory tone in my voice.
He goes red immediately. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, I am worried about it,” I say, more snappish than I mean to be.
He sighs. “Patrick—”
I grab his hand, standing up fast enough I feel a slight head rush, but ignore it.
Looking around, there are way too many people on the field. Too many witnesses. My gaze locks on the equipment shed at the edge of the field, where no one else is.
“Come with me,” I say, not giving him a choice as I drag him off the field toward the equipment shed.
Colten sighs again, but he dutifully lets me drag him.
“Later!” Nico calls out. I ignore him.
We round the shed and step into the shadow behind it. It’s out of sight from the rest of the field. The metal wall blocks most of the noise from the party, leaving only the distant thud of a ball and the muffled hum of music.
No one will interrupt us here.
I stop, and Colten nearly walks into me. For a second, we just stand there, breathing a little hard.
Colten lets out a long, tired sigh before looking me over. “How does your head feel?”
“My what?” I blink at him.