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lacing up his shoes. “You gotta take the risks to succeed.”
    “It’s not life. It’s a constructed competition.” She was eying him now as if he were an idiot. “And it hardly seems successful if you come out of it suffering through years of surgery and post-concussion syndrome.”
    Fear gripped him, and anger. It was the truth she was talking and every guy who ever played sports knew it, but it wasn’t something you talked about. Not while you were still young and in your prime. You didn’t even think it, not if you wanted to keep playing.
    “Everything I’ve ever gotten,” he said a bit sharply, “was thanks to that constructed competition. Including this college education.”
    “So use what it has given you.” She got on her skirt, reaching back to zip it up. “See what else there is out there for you.”
    “You’re one to talk. All you ever do is sit in this library and stare at pictures of fossils. You never go out, never participate in anything outside of class. Your whole world is this damn Geek Retreat.”
    Given the snide tone he’d used, he expected her to get angry back, but she just looked perplexed. Especially when she put her glasses on and gave him that “what species are you?” stare.
    “Never mind,” he said, pushing up and releasing the hook from the door. “Thanks for the fuck, it was great. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”
     

     
    “Jet—” Liddy cried as he strode out, and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. She was still going over his words, stunned and trying to make sense of him when she heard his steps hurrying down the wooden stairs. Should she go after him?
    She wanted to. She wanted to dash after, grab him and beg him to wait, to talk, but she felt frozen in place. Frozen and confused by his unexpected transformation. They’d had a wonderful time, talked of bones. He’d seemed so open and bright, and it felt like they were close to connecting, to really understanding each other. Then, out of the blue, he’d turned mean.
    No, not out of the blue. Obviously, she’d said something wrong. Very wrong in her geeky way. God. She went cold inside. How mad had she made him? What if he no longer wanted to be friends? What if he never wanted to see her again?
    She needed to figure out how she’d fucked up and how to make it right. How to apologize. If there was a way for someone like her to apologize to someone like him.
     

NOVEMBER
     
    The sidewalks were thick with excited fans, their breaths misting in the frosty, November air. They shouted out to each other and to the cars that honked their horns and flashed their lights.
    “WE’RE NUMBER ONE!”
    Frat boys brayed the sentence, and waved flags featuring the school mascot while Sorority Sisters clapped and sung it.
    Eight games down and they’d won seven. The coach, the college, everyone but Jarrett was elated.
    “Top of the world!” Bobby crowed as they made their way to their favorite steakhouse. “God I feel great! Don’t you feel great?”
    “Yeah.” Physically, Jarrett did. There was no workout as good as expending all that energy and aggression out on the field. It was an endorphin high followed by jubilation, a hot shower and a ravenous appetite.
    Tonight, however, he was also depressed. It’d been over a week since his argument with Liddy and he had to admit that it was his own fault they hadn’t reconciled. He’d sulkily refused to take her calls or answer her e-mail. Yet when he’d looked up tonight to see her stadium seat vacant, it’d been like a punch in the gut.
    “Thank God for Carl, huh?” Bobby nudged Jarrett as a group of fans jay-walked between honking cars chanting: “Del-a-rose! Del-a-rose!”
    “Yeah, thank God.” The big divisions had overlooked Carl Delarose, and were likely kicking themselves for it now; the freshman was turning into a superstar. With every game, it became more evident. He moved like lightning and caught passes with ease. Carl was the