Overtime

3: I-Spy

"His page seems fine, but there's a girl who was tagging him in photos not too long ago. They're standing close together," I tell Amber, showing her the picture. She looked just like me: blonde hair with blue eyes. I guess I know his type.

"Yeah, well, Caleb only posts motivational quotes on his page."

I look up and give her a side-eye, "you're joking, right?"

She shoves her phone in my face. "Unfortunately, not." I cover my mouth and laugh. She wasn't wrong. He posts weekly quotes but hasn't posted a photo of himself playing since the beginning of the year.

"At least thousands of girls aren't commenting on his pictures with water and eggplant emojis." I scroll through the thousands of comments on his most recent photo. He had taken sponsor photos for a sports drink commercial. Everyone was commenting on how thirsty they were for him.

Is it weird if I followed him? I bite my lip as I stare at the button. He probably wouldn't even notice. He probably gets thousands of followers a day.

I hesitate before clicking follow.

Leaving his social media, I emailed the stadium where he plays and the Titans, asking if they need any photographers. The season didn't start for another few weeks, as it was still summer. Maybe they're still searching for help. I attached some of my portfolio to send with and sent a quick prayer that they suddenly needed a photographer.

"I still can't believe it was you out of everyone this could have happened to. When was the last time you went on a date?" Is she jealous? She found her own man tonight. Surely, she's not upset about me being the one who gets asked on a date.

I laugh, "I don't know. Maybe like junior year of college."  I graduated college two years ago. "He was probably just looking for someone to talk to tonight, and I was a familiar face. I'm not gonna get my hopes up." There's no way a somebody would want a nobody anyway. It would never work. I don't know if I want to be in the spotlight or magazines. I'm not pretty enough. I couldn't stomach the hate.

"Oh," she says, "I was under the impression we would double date with Caleb and Miles. That's why I got his number."

I look at her dumbfounded, "you got his number?"

"Yeah. He asked as soon as they came back from the stage."

"Well, the only thing Miles said to me was that I needed to apply for a job at the stadium where they play."

"Maybe he's just shy, and that's his way of flirting."

"I couldn't tell you. I haven't touched a man in over a year. I've forgotten how to flirt. He did imply he wanted to autograph my boobs. He probably just wants a fuck."

"Did you tell him about Luke Bryan?"

"Yeah, he wanted to see a picture, but I didn't have my phone. That was when they left." I picked up my phone and screamed when I saw the notification, "Amber, he followed back!" An NFL player follows me.

My page is a mixture of my life and my favorite photos I've taken. Maybe he'll put a good word in after seeing my page. It's not that I don't think I'm not good enough to get a job, I just don't have the connections. I hate using Amber's dad as a way to climb the ladder. Why can't my parents be famous instead of owning a rental business?

"Did he send a message?"

I click on my messages and find one from him. "Yes, he did." Amber runs and sits beside me, looking at his message. When are you going to come and take pictures of me?

I responded, Do you mean pictures of you playing or like modeling pictures? "Such the jokester, Jules," Amber says sarcastically.

Whatever you want. I'll be your model. I bite my lip as I feel my cheeks burning, "He's flirting, right?"

"Flirting so hard."

I emailed the stadium. Put in a good word for me, Magic Mike. I sent the message, then began to type again. Maybe I should make you model for me like a stripper. "Julia!" Amber gasps. "I can't believe you just said that to him!"

Only if you were in the photos with me. Holy fuck. This man is going to ruin me. I squeal every time he messages me back. I am going to get heartbroken. This is why I haven't dated anyone in four years. False hope. I definitely should not hope a celebrity would even consider taking me on a date. Why would he do that?

I don't respond to him, and throw my phone on the other side of the room where I wouldn't message him again. Amber frowns at me, "JuJu, don't be like that. Have some hope."

I lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, "Haven't you ever seen what happens to people with hope?"

"If he doesn't want you, that's his loss. He should know you have direct access to some of the most delicious men in Nashville. I mean if he just looked at your page and saw all the men who tag you in photos he would realize not to take you for granted."

"Okay, one, the men who I take pictures of are younger than me, and two, just because I take pictures of men doesn't mean I talk to them."

"Maybe he wants you to go to the stadium so you are only taking pictures of him so he can watch you."

"Oh my God, please stop feeding my brain these lies. I can't—I won't get heartbroken again. I promised myself that."

"You can't walk around on your tippy toes thinking all men have bad intentions. I could have told you that dating a frat boy would do nothing good for you. Not all men cheat."

"Amber, if you do not shut up, I'm leaving."

"Fine, be like that, Julia." She turns away from me, and I almost let out a laugh. We fought all the time, it was nothing new. We were practically sisters.

We sit in silence before I'm the one to break the silence, "What do you think Riley and Emma would think about all this?"

"I'm about three steps ahead of you, Jules."

"What do you mean?"

"Never in my life have I felt so fucking betrayed by you two. What the hell!" Emma's voice wanders into the room. I sit up and she and Riley slam Amber's bedroom door open, with a pissed look on their faces.

I want to laugh, "Well you two just had to work tonight, didn't you?" Emma was a singer and she booked gigs around Nashville at different bars each night. Riley was a bartender at Coyote Ugly, which means she gets to be around delicious men all the time.

"I'm so pissed. I'm four vodka crans and two tequila shots in and I can't even look at your faces. I'm about to cry," Emma wipes her fake tears and slams her body onto the bed. "Now, tell me everything."

We begin to tell her about every moment, every thought, every word that came out of our mouths. The two of them sit in silence with their mouths open in shock.

"I'm just pissed that I was the one who saw him and his friends at the club and I wasn't even properly introduced!"

"Don't worry, Emma. You will have plenty of time to meet their friends. I have a feeling we will see them again. Especially since Goldie Locks applied for a job with the Titans."

"What?" They scream in unison. "You forgot to mention that part."

"Oh, yeah," I sheepishly say, filling them in on my job application. "What about you Riley? Are you mad?"

She shrugs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, "I had sex with the drummer of the band that was playing before I came here."

"In your room, I hope," I raise an eyebrow at her. Riley, Emma, and I lived in an apartment a few blocks away. Amber didn't want to leave her dad, so the three of us got an apartment just down the street, though it wasn't the nicest. I mean, we were just three girls in our early twenties getting used to being on our own. Amber's place was the closest to Broadway, the ride on the elevator took longer than walking to the hotel.

Riley laughs, "Actually we fucked in your bedroom and he used your toothbrush afterward."

I throw a pillow at her sarcastic words, "You're a bitch." We have caught Riley on the couch with a man multiple times. We just shield our eyes and walk straight into our rooms. It doesn't bother me as much anymore since I expect it to happen.

"Okay, guys. Focus." Amber claps our hands to get our attention, "How do we get Magic Mike to fall in love with Julia?"