A Forever Kind of Love

Three

I’m counting down the days, anticipating the time when it will all make sense, when all the pieces will fit into place so that I can finally see the full picture, the reason for it all. Right now, I feel like I’m doing a lot of s**t that is causing me nothing but stress.

I observe my life like an outsider, seeing myself going through the motions. I’ve been giving my all for my family, my professors, my coaches, the football scouts, and my future. It’s physically and emotionally draining to always be the best. I hear people say that it comes so easily to me, but the fact of the matter is, nothing in life comes easy. If I make it look easy, it’s because I’ve worked three times as hard as the person next to me. It’s because I’ve given all of myself to succeed, and it’s sometimes more than I have to give.

There is only one thing—more accurately, one person—that makes it all go away, that quiets the white noise of discontent surrounding me.

My Lily.

When I’m with Lily, the cloud of stress that weighs on me like a heavy fog lifts, and I can finally breathe. She makes everything okay, bringing me back to my center where the chaos sleeps and the peace lives.

“Porter!”

I jump, and my startled reflection stares back at me from the locker room mirror.

“Yes, Coach?” I turn away from the mirror.

“You ready? Your head in the game?”

“Yes, Coach,” I lie.

“You sure? Your s**t together?” He lifts an unsympathetic eyebrow.

He’s thinking of the interception I threw last week. I know it. I’ve had to go over that play all week while hearing s**t from my coaches and my father. Yes, I made a bad throw. No, it didn’t cost us the game.

“But it could have. Mistakes like those aren’t acceptable.” My father’s words ring in my ears.

“s**t’s together. I’m ready, Coach.”

He slaps my left shoulder pad. “All right, let’s go win us a football game.”

“Yes, Coach!” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

The celebration over our win has already started with music blasting through the locker room. The atmosphere is loud, obnoxious, and upbeat.

Jerome, one of my roommates, zips up his bag next to me.

“Hey, man,” I say to him. “Kick-a*s touchdown.”

His smile widens. “Thanks for the sweet pass.”

“No, the credit is all yours, man.” I extend my fist.

Jerome bumps it. “You coming to the party with us?”

Bringing my hand to the back of my neck, I look down as my fingers rub my muscles. “No, I don’t think so. I have a huge stats test on Monday.”

“Come on, you can study tomorrow. You need to celebrate. You played a flawless game,” Jerome urges.

“Thanks, but I can’t, really. My classes are already kicking my a*s this semester.”

“You guys ready to get shitfaced?” Josh, another roommate, cheers from behind me, his hand slapping me on the back.

“You know it!” Jerome yells. “Jax here is going to study.”

“Fuckin’ A. Again? What’s your deal?” Josh asks.

“I know. I’m a f*****g loser this year. What can I say?” I throw my bag across my shoulder.

“Oh, leave Jax alone. Some of us aren’t content with just passing our classes with the bare minimum to play football. Some of us here”—Ben, the last roommate to join the conversation, cups his hand on my shoulder—“want to be super successful and s**t. I say it’s admirable.”

“Shut up, Ben,” I say, offering a bemused smile.

Ben sighs. “I’m going to miss my wingman though.”

“Are ya?” I huff out a chuckle.

“Hell yeah, I am. Do you know how many girls I get from you? They always start by flirting with the almighty Jax Porter, but when they realize they aren’t going to c***k your Lily armor, they make their way over to us.”

“You’re an idiot.” I shake my head.

“It’s true,” Josh offers. “You not coming out lately has been affecting my game.”

“Dude”—I look at Josh—“I’ve seen the girls leaving the apartment. Your game is just fine.”

“Well, yeah, obviously. But I do have to work a little harder at it.” Josh shrugs.

“You’ll live. I promise.”

“All right, well, I’ll drink enough for the both of us, okay?” Jerome proclaims.

I laugh. “You do that. You all have fun.”

I exit the stadium and start walking toward our apartment. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to find a text from Lily.

Little: Good game!

Me: Thanks.

Little: You were perfect, Jax. Really! I miss you! What are you up to?

Me: Not much. I’ll probably go out for a little bit with the guys. Not sure. What about you?

Little: I’m going out to some bar the girls have been raving about. $5 Long Islands!

Me: Yeah, that sounds dangerous. Please be careful.

Little: You know I will. I’ll call you when I get home.

Me: Please do.

Little: Okay…well, have fun with the guys. Tell them I said hi.

Me: I will. They miss you. It’s been forever since you’ve been here. :(

Little: I know. I’m going to grab my car during Thanksgiving break. I don’t know what I was thinking, not bringing it. :( Well, be safe. Love you so much.

Me: Love you more.

Little: Bye.

Me: Bye.

I’m so annoyed with myself. I’m not sure why I felt the need to lie to Lily. I never lie to her—ever. I just feel like I’m spiraling out of control, and I have to keep it from her. I don’t want her to worry. She only has two years away at college, and I want her to be able to enjoy every minute of it.

“If the variance of a distribution is nine, the standard deviation is…” Stella asks, sitting cross-legged with her back up against my couch.

“Three,” I answer.

“Yep.” She tucks a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. “Increasing the frequencies in the tails of a distribution will do what?”

“Increase the standard deviation.”

She nods. “Right.” She places the notecard in the back of the pile in her other hand. “We’re back to the first question. I think you got this.” She smiles warmly, her hazel eyes appearing brown in the dim light of my apartment.

“Sweet. Do you want me to quiz you again?”

“No, I’m good. So, what are your plans after class tomorrow?” Her voice is cheerful, her tone airy. It always is.

“Same ole crap—homework and studying.”

“Do you want to grab some lunch and then go to the library?” she asks, standing and stretching her arms above her head.

Her tight T-shirt rides up to show her flat stomach, and I look away, standing from the chair I was sitting in.

“Sure. Yeah, that sounds good.”

I met Stella my freshman year of college, but she has recently become a good friend. With both of us going for our degree in business administration, we’ve shared many classes and random study groups for the past two years. A few weeks ago, I ran into her at the library, and we started discussing our classes and then ended up studying together. Our learning styles meshed so well that we’ve been studying together ever since.

My apartment door swings open, and Stella and I turn as Josh walks in with a huge smile spread across his face.

He sees us and shouts, “Thursday night, baby!” His enthusiasm is infectious. “We’re going out!”

“Sorry, man. I’ll take a rain check. I still have one more class tomorrow.”

“Which one?” he asks.

“Stats.”

“f**k stats. You’ll make stats your bitch.” As he walks toward us, his blond curls bounce, his hair just long enough to tuck behind his ears. His six-foot-three frame towers over Stella as he pulls her into a hug, lifting her off her feet. “Stella, baby!” he yells.

She giggles.

“I intend to.” I chuckle. “Hence, the rain check.”

He puts Stella down. “It won’t matter if you get plastered tonight or not. You’ll be fine. Come on,” he pleads.

“Nope. Sorry, man.”

“Stella?” His gaze swings down in her direction. He sports a pathetic expression. “You coming out with us?”

She grins wide. “I’m going to pass tonight, too. Another time though. I promise.”

“Lame.” He sighs and walks to the kitchen. “Stay for a beer?” he calls over his shoulder.

“Okay, but just one,” she calls back.

The three of us sit in the living room, each of us holding a bottle of beer. Jerome and Ben return to the apartment and join us.

I’ve lived with these three guys since freshman year. Ben and I grew up together, coming from the same town. I’ve known Jerome and Josh for two years now, but it seems like a lot longer. All four of us play football for the University of Michigan, so we’re together a lot.

“Ben, tell me about your date with Dawn last weekend,” Stella says eagerly.

Just in the last couple of weeks, she has become the fifth person in our group. She has been over here to study a lot lately, and she always seems to hang out, even after we are done with our schoolwork. I don’t mind. She is one of those people who can get along with anyone. She’s just cool. The guys all love her and have taken her under their wings. It’s almost like she is our little sister. I’m actually surprised that none of them have tried to hook up with her yet. She is stunningly beautiful. So, her looks paired with her sweet personality make her a perfect catch.

Even in the short time since she’s become part of our group, one thing we’ve all learned about her is that she is a hopeless romantic. She loves to set the guys up on dates and hear all about it. I’m not sure why she’s bothering with a business degree when she’s clearly destined to be a wedding planner.

“Well,” Ben responds, a guilty expression plastered on his face, “I ended up canceling.”

“What?” Stella asks, her voice rising an octave.

“I’m sorry, Stell. I talked to her on the phone beforehand and just wasn’t feeling it.”

She looks disappointed. “Oh, Ben, she’s so nice though. You would like her. She’s really pretty, too.”

“I know. I’m sure she is. Maybe another time.” He pauses and nods toward Jerome. “You know who could use a date? Jerome over there.”

Jerome laughs, throwing his head back. “Yeah, okay, man. Hardly.”

It’s true. Jerome doesn’t need any help in the women department. He is always dating someone new—that is, if dating means screwing. I guess he might need some assistance in keeping them around longer. The same goes for Josh. He doesn’t have a shortage of women coming out of his revolving bedroom door either.

“Can’t wait for you to meet Lily,” I say to Stella. “She is always asking these guys when they are going to find a nice girl.”

Josh speaks to Stella, “And we’re telling you the same thing we tell her. We don’t want a nice girl. We want very bad girls.”

“You’re a pig.” I chuckle.

“Am I wrong?” Josh says to the guys.

“Sorry. Can’t deny it,” Jerome answers. “Who needs nice at twenty? I’m looking for hot and easy.”

“Jerome!” Stella squeals, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

He shrugs. “What? It’s true.”

I shake my head in laughter.

Ben addresses Stella, “And don’t let pretty boy here fool you. Before Lily, he was a man-w***e. I think he slept with every available girl in our high school.”

“In my defense, it was a small school,” I say, straight-faced.