Maddox
Jason waltzes into the kitchen and gasps. “Are you making homemade chocolates?” I’m wearing a pink
apron and mixing brown stuff-what else would I be making?! There are forms on the table!
“Dude, are you blind? Because it ain’t fucking dog shit I’m melting and mixing on the stove.” Jason
slowly blinks, and I wonder if he is hungover or has an itchy eye or something. “Are they… For a girl?” I
continue stirring. “Uh, yes? I’m sure as hell not giving these to you or anyone else on the football team.”
“Huh,” Jason smiles like the dumb, tall idiot he is. “I’m happy for you. You and Michelle are finally
dating-it was about damn time.” I almost choke and spit out the water I’m drinking. “Dating?! We ain’t
dating! We are friends.”
“Wait. You’re making homemade chocolates for a friend… Who is a girl… And you’re not dating?” “Yes,
and yes,” I shake my head at Jason. I don’t understand his deal or why he is staring at me. “When did
you become such a detective? I read that girls love to receive gifts, and homemade chocolate was on
the top of that list. Nothing weird is happening here.”
Honestly, I’m trying to turn a new leaf with Michelle. That’s why I’m making these dumb chocolates for
her.
Jason says something in Spanish and shakes his head at me like I’m the crazy one.
“Yes, chocolates are an excellent gift WHEN you are dating the other person! You don’t make
homemade chocolate for just a friend unless baking is your hobby, which it’s not!” I lift my nose into the
air, determined to ignore my best friend’s unreasonable opinions. “I’m sure friends can enjoy
homemade chocolates too.”
“No, Michelle is going to get the wrong idea, but sure…” Jason sighs heavily at me. “Give her the
chocolates and see what happens.”
“You know what?!” I snap at him. “I will! And Michelle is going to love these chocolates!” “Ah, because
you’re so good at baking.” “Damn right I am.”
Jason snorts. “Talk about an ego.”
“Are you seriously dating that skittish girl?”
There is a gasp on the other side of the weight room. “Daniels is dating someone?”
“I heard he made her homemade chocolates.”
“Daniels? No way! I can’t imagine him buying gifts or baking! Are you shitting me right now?”
“No, I’m serious. I heard it from a reliable source.”
Fucking Jason
The gossip starts among my teammates as I lift over three hundred pounds above my head. I haven’t
seen Michelle yet, and things are already getting out of hand. “That poor girl,” someone is laughing.
“She doesn’t know that Daniels is a cold blooded bastard yet!”
“That might be part of why she likes him-girls are into douchebags. You glare at them, and they
immediately want you in their bed. They wet themselves when they hear muscular men grunt.”
“Really? Then why am I still single?” “Because you’re an ugly motherfucker.” The idiots belt out
laughter inside the gym while I grunt and puff out a breath of air. Sweat covers my upper lip, chest,
back, and entire face. My lungs are burning, and my body is on fire.
The last thing I need is to listen to these people discuss girls with great tits and asses. I try to focus and
mentally block out my teammates to keep pushing and wheezing. “So her name is Michelle
Henriksson… Does anyone have her added as their friend? I can’t get into her profile…”
What the fuck?
Despite the heavy weight I’m bench pressing, I attempt to raise my head to see who said that. 1
“Attention here, man, a few more. Five more.” Jason glances down at me, eyes severe and his lips
telling me he doesn’t care about the other guys. He is all focused. “Guys, could you shut the fuck up?
Maddox is in the middle of a set, and I lost count.”
Silence falls.
The only thing I hear is my own mental counting.
Four.
Three.
Two
One.
I get rid of the metal bar. It hits the rack with a clatter, and I exhale while blinking up at the ceiling. I lay
motionless, wishing the room’s fan was stronger. I stink.
“Good job,” Jason tells me and drinks water. “I’m going to start my sets, but before that” he hands me
my phone. “It’s been pinging non-stop for the last few minutes.” I lift myself up from the bench, crack
my shoulders and take my phone from Jason’s hands.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
I slide into my text messages. There are plenty of those from Michelle, which is odd. She usually isn’t
brave enough to start a conversation with me unless it’s important. Michelle: This might be weird.
Michelle: No, it is weird. Michelle: Can I ask a favor of you? Michelle: I will just ask it anyway.
Michelle: Can I stay at your place tonight? I swear I’m not trying to take advantage of you! I don’t even
expect to sleep in your bed or anything! My friends are just having this party, and someone I don’t like
is coming here since they invited them.
Michelle: Maddox?
Michelle: Forget I asked! Everything is taken care of.
I narrow my eyes at the last message.
Michelle is trying to cover up for something, and I don’t think she has found another place to stay. And
while I don’t know what is going on, something is wrong.
I call her, and she answers in the first tone.
“Hi…”
“Where are you?” I bark. I’m not going to play any games, and her last message worried me.
“Maddox, it’s fine,”
“Where. Are. You.”
She audibly gulps. “At the library…”
“They close in an hour. Where are you going after that?”
Silence falls, and I think I hear her sobbing.
“Stay there. I will come and pick you up from the library. But just so you know, I don’t live alone; I have
a mutt named Jason. He likes to butt into other people’s business.”
“... Are you talking about the linebacker on your team?”
“That would be the guy…” I pick up my bag and signal Jason that I’m leaving the gym. He nods, and I
stroll away.
Michelle giggles, but I can hear that she is crying too.
“Jason is not a dog.”
“In my eyes, he is,” I tell her. “Anyway, wait inside the library. Don’t go out into the parking lot alone.”
“Thank you… This means a lot to me, Maddox.”
“No problem.”
Silence.
“Wait, do you live with everyone on the football team?”
Why is this important? “No, just a few of them… Why?”
“Well…”
“Out with it.”
“D-do you live with the quarterback named Thomas?”
Now I’m even more inquisitive.
Thomas and I are both quarterbacks on the same team. He is the loud, irritating type. Sleeps around
and brags about it openly too. Yeah, we don’t hang out. I despise the guy. It might even have evolved
into hatred since Michelle is asking about the damn bloke. “Nope… Thomas doesn’t live with us.”
“Does he come over often?” Why is she asking so many questions about Thomas? Does Michelle like
him or something? Not that I care. It ain’t my business if she likes him. I’m not even one bit jealous,
nope. Not at all.
Michelle is my fake girlfriend.
I don’t like her.
“No, Thomas never comes over and doesn’t live with us.”
“Oh, okay… Anyway, see you soon!”
Michelle’s little “Oh, okay,” hits a nerve.
It pisses me off how I can’t tell if she sounds relieved or disappointed that Thomas doesn’t live with us.
“Yeah, see you soon.”
The phone call ends, and I think I have about a million questions to ask Michelle when I see her. Why
the fuck does she want to know if Thomas lives with me?!
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