Matched By My Rival by DJ Jamison

7

PARKER

You ever think about who we might be without people pushing us to be who they want us to be?

I typed the message to BiCuriousStud impulsively, frustrated by a week of chastisement by Coach, followed by “encouraging” pep talks from my parents. Sometimes being a student athlete was too much, and I just wanted to walk away. I imagined the freedom I’d have without workout regimens, drills, and mandated study halls I didn’t even need half the time.

Whenever I expressed this frustration, though, my family reminded me how lucky I was. To play a game I’d always loved. To receive a scholarship for it. To have loyal teammates and friends. To gain experience I could use in the future and throughout my life.

There was the ul*timate dream of being drafted by the NFL. It happened on occasion for Hayworth players—though not nearly as often as it did at larger football programs. But even without the draft, there were other avenues to continuing a career in football. Undrafted free agency, for one.

Coach had a few connections with some of the regional teams, and Mom was convinced he could get me a look by someone important. Some guys got onto the roster that way, and some got onto a practice team, but either way it was a foot in the door. And if that didn’t pan out, catching the eye of someone important could lead to other jobs.

But did I really want my entire life to revolve around my glory days in college football?

Not so much. I wasn’t even sure about my backup plan anymore—teaching high school football. Instead, I found myself rearranging my schedule to take elementary classes in the hopes of teaching younger kids instead.

But my parents were just so damn proud of me. It made me feel like a shit not to appreciate what I had. Especially when I considered how much Simon would probably give to trade places with me.

My phone buzzed, and I surreptitiously checked it. I was supposed to be studying—but I couldn’t focus tonight, despite playing catch-up thanks to my change of heart about which area of education to study.

BiCuriousStud had answered me.You feeling the weight of expectation? Can’t say I do. I’ve always done what I wanted and fuck everyone else.

I smiled wryly. That sounds great, actually.

So do it.

It’s not really that simple. I’d let a lot of people down.

You sound like one of my friends,he responded. Always worried about pleasing other people. But what about you? You deserve to be happy too.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was a people-pleaser. But I doubted Coach would think of it the same way. He’d say I had a responsibility to finish what I started. Mom and Dad wouldn’t try to stop me, but they wouldn’t understand. They’d warn me that I might regret walking away, that maybe I was just stressed or tired.

And there were elements of truth to that.

But they didn’t know the whole of it. That as long as I continued with football, I couldn’t really be me.

Sorry to be a mope today,I texted.

I’d been chatting with BiCuriousStud every couple of days. We talked about random things we could both relate to: the best food at the student rec center, the best jogging paths on campus, our favorite shortcuts from one end of campus to the other.

We kept it light, casual. Nothing too personal. I could tell BiCurious was still feeling me out, deciding if I was someone he’d want to get to know better. It was a bit unusual for a hookup app. Usually it was about getting off, not making friends. But there was something about his honesty that I liked. He’d been upfront with me, and it wasn’t as if I could hook up easily myself. Not with a recognizable face and name on campus. But I could have found someone easier, someone who was game for more than PG-13 conversation, at least.

The thing is, I didn’t want easy. I wanted to feel a connection.

That wasn’t too straight-forward when you were a closeted football player. But online, it was different. I didn’t have to be guarded. I didn’t have to worry about being outed. I could talk, and flirt, and maybe eventually have something more.

And it was the something more, as in a real relationship instead of a quick orgasm, that intrigued me the most.

He texted me back.Mope to me anytime. I have a big-ass chip on my shoulder half the time. I’m not exactly a ray of sunshine.

Maybe you’re my ray of sunshine, I typed, feeling daring.

Fuck off.

I laughed out loud, drawing Hinkel and Johnston’s attention. I quickly typed out a goodbye and shoved my phone into my bag. Hinkel continued to watch me as I returned to my books. Later, when we were packing up to leave, he nudged me.

“Who’s the girl?”

“What?”

“You were totally mooning over your phone tonight. Someone’s got you on the hook.”

I shook my head, but I could feel my face giving me away even as I lied. “It was just a friend.”

“Uh-huh.” He stared at me hard, and when I didn’t offer anything more, he shrugged. “Keep your secrets then. But she must be pretty amazing to make you grin like such a dope.”

Johnston fell into step with us as we left the study center, crossing the parking lot in the direction of the athletic dorms. “Have you met Reed? He’s always got a dopey grin on his face.”

“Fuck you,” I said with a laugh. “My smile is my best feature. Gotta flaunt it.”

They both snorted with skepticism. Fuckers. I bet BiCurious would appreciate my smile. Appreciate a lot of things these guys would never understand.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Hinkel said with a smirk.

“Yeah, maybe just don’t look in the mirror while you do it.”

I shoved Johnston, and he barely budged. Fucking linebackers. He shoved me back, and I tipped into the bushes. They both cackled into the night.

* * *

SIMON

I drove the work truck to the two-story behemoth we were tackling for House Pledge so Cooper could ride over with Trace. Since they were both in town this weekend, I was off the hook as site foreman for the day.

I glanced out the window as I came to a stop, spotting Parker milling around with the other volunteers. He’d returned, even after I’d made him wallow in the mud. With a smile on his face, because not even getting thrown into a shit job and ridiculed could get under his skin. Parker has always been that way. Hell, he’d grinned at me right after I punched him. Who the hell did that?

That got me thinking about something HotPan had said. I’d maybe been a little insensitive about the idea of expectations. Hadn’t I stepped up as foreman—and dealt with Parker—because I’d promised Cooper he could count on me?

Linc, who rode along with me, dived out his door the moment we pulled to a stop. I took my time, pulling out my phone to send a text off to my new chat buddy.

In all fairness, I do know what it means to have expectations weigh on you.

He was quick to respond: Yeah?

I don’t care what people think, in general, but sometimes we owe people.

HotPan22: Like family?

BiCuriousStud: Maybe. Or friends. People who have your back and now you need to have theirs.

HotPan22: Ah, so you’re loyal.

BiCuriousStud: When someone earns it.

HotPan22: And have I?

BiCuriousStud: Not yet

HotPan22: Oh brutal truth!

BiCuriousStud: But I’m hoping you will. I think you will.

I repocketed my phone, feeling myself flush as Cooper’s voice drifted through the cracked window. “Gather round everyone! We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

I got out, surveying the lawn. Parker put away his phone and stepped forward, as if eager for more punishment. Or maybe he was just eager to get his assignment from someone who wasn’t me. I noticed Darnell hadn’t come with him this time. He’d probably only come along the week before to ensure I didn’t bloody Parker when he dared to show his face. Darnell had told me last year when I’d suggested he could come with me to one of these jobs that he didn’t go to college to do construction work. He went to college to get out of the life of manual labor his father lived.

While Cooper doled out jobs, with Trace interjecting the occasional safety warning, I hung back. I didn’t even notice Linc next to me until he spoke. “You really don’t like that guy, huh?”

I startled, whipping my head toward him. “Who?”

He tilted his head to the right. I didn’t need to look to know that’s where Parker stood. I couldn’t keep my gaze from wandering back to him. “I don’t,” I confirmed, even though a voice in my mind whispered that maybe it wasn’t Parker who was the problem.

“We need to kick his ass or something?” Linc asked.

I winced. “Kicking his ass isn’t the problem. Or really it is.” When Linc looked puzzled, I said, “I did that already. It’s why I lost my scholarship.”

“Ohhh shit. I heard about that, but…” He coughed, sounding awkward. “Wow, okay. Well, I’ve got nothing then.”

“That’s all right, man. Thanks for trying.”

I found that the usual surplus of anger wasn’t simmering within me. Seeing Parker get down and dirty last weekend had been cathartic. A metaphorical evening of the playing field, tarnishing that perfect “golden boy” persona he had. But it also made it tougher to carry a grudge. He wasn’t really to blame for my life going to shit, even if I was still pissed he’d moved in on Kristin while I was down. Despite his disregard for the bro code, he’d more than earned a reprieve. He just made a convenient target for my frustrations, one that was hard to resist when we were in close proximity.

“Simon?” Cooper called as Parker nodded and strode off. “What do you want to do today?”

I jogged over. “I get to choose? I feel like teacher’s pet.”

Cooper laughed. “You’ve earned a little seniority.”

“What’s Parker doing?”

Cooper scanned the list. “Scraping the north side of the house. You want to work with him?”

“Nope. I’ll take the south side,” I said, not trusting myself to behave rationally around Parker. If I couldn’t manage my temper, I could at least keep my distance. “Do me a favor and make sure our paths don’t cross, okay?”

Unlike Linc, Cooper didn’t ask for explanations, just nodded. “You got it. Thanks again for last week.”

“Anytime.” I glanced at Trace, feeling a niggle of guilt for being so damn glad they were both here and I didn’t have to step up. “Whenever you guys need some extra time to yourselves, I’m happy to help.”

“We’ll take you up on that,” Trace said. “Won’t we, brat?”

Cooper rolled his eyes. “Trace thinks I work too hard.”

“You do,” I said with a nod.

“Ha! You work just as much as me,” Cooper accused.

I grinned. “Guilty. But right now, I have more work to do.” I jerked a thumb toward the house. “I’m gonna go get started.”