004

He observed her, undisturbed by her threat. She was flipping through pages in a blue sweater, black pleated skirt, and stilettos ensemble.

“If you're lonely and need someone to warm your sheets, I’m sure you have plenty of options,” she said dryly. “Dating apps, perhaps?”

“What price do I have to pay to have you?”

“Wow! Are you serious? I’m not a commodity you can acquire. You want the truth? I’m really not playing hard to get. I need someone who is smart, passionate about philanthropy, ambitious and a beast in bed wouldn’t hurt either.”

He perked up at that, not to brag or anything, but he was pretty skilled in that department. “Well... two out of four’s not bad.”

“Do you really think every girl here wants you?”

He grinned. “I mean, history says–”

She cut him off. “Then let history keep you cozy at night. Your socials, full of clichés, proudly depicts how vain you are.

“Wait, you looked me up?” he questioned, not even bothered by the dig.

“To see what the hype was all about. Ended up being disappoin–” A ping sounded from her phone, after glancing at the screen. She stood up to gather her books, “I have to go. I’m late for class.”

“Hey, can I walk you?”

She scoffed “No, what is this? The 13th century, where I’ll get attacked by mythical creatures if my shining knight isn’t by my side?”

“No, I just wanna know you.” Ish, that sounded corny to him.

“For the nth time, no,” she said, not breaking her stride. But he walked alongside her, his long legs easily matching her quickened pace.

They walked in silence for a while, enjoying the picturesque scenery. Finally, he spoke. “Law, huh? What drew you to that career path?” he probed.

“How do you know that, I’m prelaw?”

“The evidence in law outline book that you stuffed in your bag?”

“Observant,” she praised, tucking some strands of hair behind her ears, a silver ring on her right middle finger encrusted with pink stones shimmering in the sun.

“I’m a quarterback, it's kinda my superpower, and you haven't answered the question.”

“None of your business.”

“Parents? Your dream profession when you were young?”

She signed, “Since you must know, our flawed system. Why do the rich get a slap on the wrist while the poor spend years in jail for the same crime?”

Bingo! The reaction he wanted. He smiled to himself for successfully peeling back a layer. “You’re driven by a desire for justice, I knew it, explains the attitude.”

“Ohh, attitude? You don’t know me, West.”

“That is the whole point of this, unlike me, I know nothing about you, but I want to.”

"This is me," she nodded toward the glass building ahead, which had students littered around the steps, some moving in and out of the entrance.

“I probably know the answer to this, but don't hate a man for trying. You wanna hang out sometime?”

“Thank goodness you know it's gonna be a no. And please, can you leave me the heck alone?” Spinning around, she walked towards the building.

Coach Nick chewed his ass a new one when he entered the training center.

“You’re late, Westbrook!” he barked, his voice echoing throughout the center.

He sprinted down the field, “sorry, coach. Won’t happen again,” he called back.

“Not acceptable, today I woke up with zero tolerance for bullshit excuses. Now give me thirty, and don’t stop until I say thirty.”

Liam dropped to the ground, hands apart, and started pumping out push ups, coach watching him as he counted off each rep: “ One.. two.. ten.. twenty.. twenty-eight.. twenty-nine.. thirty.” He stood up.

“You can join the others. Try this shit one more time, and it's 200 burpees, West; you are supposed to be setting an example for the team,” coach said with a stern face.

“Thank you, coach, not gonna repeat itself,” he yelled, jogging towards his teammates.

The remaining hours of practice were brutal, coach pushing everyone to their limits with drills that left everyone drenched in sweat. Coach summoned the team around him as practice ended. “Good work today, guys. Let’s keep it up. Westbrook, I want to see you in my office after practice.” Liam nodded, hoping it wasn’t about his lateness earlier.

Coach was like a father to many of them, a former quarterback whose promising career was cut short by a hamstring injury. For the past twelve years, he’d led this college team to unprecedented success. Reaching the door, he knocked twice before stepping into the office full of the football team’s accomplishments: seven College Football Playoff (CFP) titles, nine conference championships, and eleven division titles adorned the walls. Each trophy and plaque a testament to the team’s hard work and dedication.