Visions and Hearts

Games and Punches

Sam

Somehow he found himself back inside and banging on Kyle's door. He didn't care that it was early, or that Kyle probably had a girl in there with him. Jess' ring triggered a memory of last night, one that was slowly, horribly filling in.

He had gone out with the team to celebrate their win. They drank, a lot. Then he and Kyle stumbled home but someone stopped him. An old man, strong with the smell of dirt and something else, pulled him down and started yelling at him. It was funny at first, then it stopped being funny. He said something about this weekend's big game, something he could have predicted based the flyers running around campus and the smell of chlorine that followed him everywhere. Then he said something about Sam's father's affair, and that had gotten his attention. It was something he had always suspected but never really known. Or never really wanted to look too closely into. Then the man hit hard and said something about a girl, a girl who was going to be hurt. And something that Sam could do to stop it. Then there was darkness. Somehow Sam had made it home, passed out and dreamed of a girl. A girl that could have been Jess, screaming for help, and him running to find her. Her ring winking in the night, taunting him. Terrifying him.

He continued to bang on the door until he heard shuffling. The door parted slightly to reveal a disheveled Kyle looking pissed.

"Dude, it's way too early to start drinking again. And we have a game tomorrow," Kyle said, already starting to close the door.

Sam braced his hand against the door, keeping it open, "What do you remember about last night?"

Kyle grimaced, "Shit. Is this the homeless guy thing? Dude you were wasted and he was super high on something. Just let it go."

"So you do remember me talking to someone?!" Sam struggled to keep his voice under control.

"Yeah," Kyle glanced back at the bed and pushed his way out into the hall, closing the door behind him. "Look, some crazy dude jumped you, do you really not remember?" Sam gave him a blank look so Kyle continued, "I don't know where he came from, just kind of jumped out at you and started talking to you like he knew you. It was nuts. I tried to get you to leave but then he said starting whispering in your ear and then you freaked out. Started calling Sara, saying you needed some chick's number. The crazy guy left and I got a call from this chick I've been hanging with so I kind of..." Kyle looked apologetic about ditching him but Sam couldn't care less.

"Did I tell you what he said? Why I freaked out? Who's number was I trying to get?" Sam started to panic.

Kyle held up his hands. "That's all I know. Did you end up talking to Sara? I bet she's pissed. You're the only asshole I know that has the balls to call his fuck-buddy to get another chick's number." Kyle smirked but Sam's thoughts were still racing. Sara probably was pissed if he actually did call her about that last night. Shit. Focusing on Sara's probable anger made things slow down, steady themselves. This was getting ridiculous.

It could've been nothing. Some stoned crazy guy making a bunch of wild guesses. The waterpolo guys all lived around here. They had games every weekend and they almost always won. Plus, most guys had cheating asshole fathers. Maybe this was just some guy messing with his head, trying to take him down a notch and freak him out. Punish the entitled white frat boy for everything he's never had to work for.

He felt his heart rate slow as he talked himself out of panic.

"You're right she's probably pissed," he half laughed, trying to brush away the faint mist of unease around him. "Maybe I should go over there."

Kyle smacked him on the back, "Good luck, man. Protect your balls, that one seems like she'd rip them off." Kyle laughed as he opened his door and went back into his room.