Junior Year Box Set

The rest of the coaches were looking at a laptop along with what I assumed were the coaches from Nazareth Academy and the officials for tonight’s game. None of them looked happy, so I pulled out my tablet and looked at the weather. A severe thunderstorm watch had been issued for the next four hours. If that were the case, we might not kick off until ten tonight. It might be after midnight when we finished. I worried it would be hard to stay focused on the game if it were delayed that much.

We strolled to the cafeteria where the boosters had set up pizza and salad for us. There was another crack of lightning. The lights flickered and then went out. I heard girls squeal, so I knew the cheerleaders had joined us. I found them and noticed that Halle looked worried.

“You okay?” I asked her.

“In LA, we never really get storms like this.”

The rain started in earnest, and the wind buffeted the windows. The lightning was fierce and beautiful at the same time. Halle had her bag with her. I knew she kept a sketchpad in it because she was always doodling.

“You should draw this.”

The change in her demeanor came over her like a wave. She stepped closer to the windows and found a good seat. She now watched the lightning show from a new perspective. I got her some pizza and salad and then grabbed my own and found my guys.

“What was up with Halle?” Alan asked.

“She was just nervous about the storm. What’s the word on the game?” I asked.

“They expect we’ll only be delayed a little. We have to wait until the lightning stops for a half hour. Once that happens, we can warm up and then play the game,” Alan answered.

We finished our pizza, and the coaches told us to just stay in the cafeteria. It didn’t take long for the natives to get restless.

“Wolf, tell everyone some jokes,” I said.

Jim and Tim cringed because they knew how bad his jokes could be. Wolf stood up and got everyone’s attention.

“You guys want to hear the ten worst pick-up lines I heard David use on our recruiting trips?” he asked everyone.

I looked over and saw Pam wink at me, so I figured they all knew this was all in fun. Plus, I wanted to know what my worst pick-up lines were since I didn’t remember using any.

“We were at Northwestern, and we all saw this butt-ugly chick. Of course, David has no taste in women,” Wolf said.

“Hey!” Cassidy called out, and Wolf cringed.

I would bet that was the last disparaging remark he made about my women. It did get everyone to laugh.

“Anyway, he walks up to her and says, ‘On a scale from 1 to 10, you’re a 9, and I’m the 1 you need,’” Wolf said. That got him a chorus of moans.

“Did it work?” Phil asked.

“What do you think? David’s a model,” Wolf said and flounced around as if he were a bad runway model.

When he struck a pose, with his hands on his hips, I was amused. When he stuck his lips out and had the patented model thousand-yard stare, I about fell out of my chair. I jumped up.

“You have it all wrong,” I said. “You have to stick your butt out for the ladies, and your nose has to be up in the air.”

I demonstrated the pose and wiggled my butt. A phone camera flashed. Crap! Tracy had snapped the shot. I would have to do some serious groveling to keep her from sending it to everyone. Then around the room, phones started to ding. She had sent out a mass text with it attached. I felt sorry for Tom and Mary; they had invested eighteen years in their little darling, only to have her die. I sat down and pouted, which the group seemed to find even funnier.

“At Michigan State, David cornered this cute sorority girl. We all could see she was nervous that this letch wouldn’t leave her alone. He told her, ‘I’d like to point out that ‘beautiful’ has U in it. But ‘quickie’ has U and I together.’ For some reason, she slapped him,” Wolf said.

“Did it work?” Phil asked.

Wolf just rolled his eyes at my half brother and continued.

“After going down in flames, he tried again with this gem: ‘Baby, if you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.’”

Even I groaned at that one. That didn’t deter Wolf.

“David wasn’t to be discouraged. He had a few drinks, got a little tipsy, and tried again. ‘Hi, I’m wasted, but this condom in my pocket doesn’t have to be.’”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Did it work?” Phil asked.

“We were all worried that David had lost his touch. Then he came up with this: ‘If you were a Transformer, you’d be a hot-o-bot, and you’d be called Optimus Fine!’”

That one was so bad Phil didn’t need to ask if it worked or not.

“By now we were worried that we may have found ourselves at a girls softball party because Casanova kept going down in flames. Us non-model types didn’t stand a chance if even our fearless leader couldn’t get lucky. I think word had gotten around about David because the girls all had a wary look about them. That didn’t slow him down. This next one actually got us kicked out of the party. ‘I’m not a weatherman, but you could expect more than a few inches tonight.’”

“Hey, now,” I complained.