Norris pales for a second, but recovers quickly. “Booker’s sister,” he replies, deadpan.
“Like fuck you are. There’s no way Book’s letting you date Fallon. She’s totally off limits; he said so.” Ollie’s adamant, but Norris is less than impressed.
Norris shakes his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You do realize that women who attend college are legal adults who can make their own decisions about who they wanna date, right? Like, Booker can’t keep his sister from dating someone, if that’s what she wants to do.”
“Holy shit,” Ollie says, dumbfounded. “Are you seriously dating Fallon?”
“Nope,” Norris answers. “I just like fucking with you. But I am serious about the fact that we’re all adults here. We can date whomever we want.”
Ollie visibly relaxes until Norris’ phone buzzes loudly. He palms it and types back a quick response, before standing. “I’m heading out,” he says. “Have a good time tonight, Franconetti.”
“Thanks,” I call after him as he grabs his keys and walks out the door.
“Hold up,” Ollie calls. “Where are you going?”
Norris looks at his phone, as if weighing the answer. “Gonna spend a couple hours with a friend, that’s all. And before you ask, no, it’s not Booker’s sister—not Fallon, and sure as hell not the one in high school.”
Again, Ollie looks relieved, but it’s Santos who pipes up. “Bring your friend here. We're just gonna play video games and drink a little. Let off some steam before the season starts. Your friend is totally welcome here. And yeah, this place could use a good cleaning, but it’s not so bad. And it’s structurally sound.”
“Eh…” Van says, tilting his hand. “I mean, I’ve been in worse places.”
“Yeah, tell your buddy to come here,” Ollie says, taking two steps into the kitchen. “I’ll start mixing up drinks.”
“Thanks,” Norris says, his hand still on the doorknob. “But…she’s not really a big fan of hockey, so we’re just gonna hang out, keep it chill.”
“It’s her loss,” Ollie says, plugging in the blender. “Not only am I a world-class matchmaker, I’m a fucking genius bartender.”
Norris leaves, and I take a look at my watch. It’s only seven, so I’ve got time to get downtown. We agreed to meet at the restaurant, and it’s only a couple blocks away, so I might end up walking. I need to burn some of this excess energy off. But if I walk, will I sweat? It’s still September, and even though it’s not blazing hot, it’s still pretty warm. Shit. It would be a bad idea to show up sweaty. I should drive.
“Dude, you alright?” Van asks. “You look like you’re gonna pass out,” he tells me.
“Yeah, seriously, have a seat before you faceplant,” Santos says, making room on the couch.
“I’m good,” I insist. “Just a little nervous.”
“What’s to be nervous about?” Ollie asks. “I set you up with Mel, and she’s the shit. Seriously. She’s beautiful, yeah, but she’s also one of the most genuine people on this campus. Trust me, this is gonna be the best date you’ve ever had.”
I laugh. “That’s not a hard title to win.”
“You go on a lot of shitty dates?” Van asks, taking a swig of his sports drink.
“More like, I don’t go on any.”
“Yeah, same here,” Santos says, missing my point. “Like Van said, we don’t get out too much either these days. It’s hard, especially during the season. But it’ll all come back to you, don’t stress.”
These guys are good guys. I’ve only been here a couple weeks, but living together and practicing together has bonded us. So, I realize I’ve gotta be honest. “That’s gonna be hard to do,” I tell them. “Cause this is literally my first date.”
“No shit?” Ollie says, leaning on the kitchen counter. “Well, don’t sweat it. I mean, it’s cool if you’ve never been a relationship guy. I can guarantee that’s not what Mel’s looking for, even if it is what she needs.”
“And just have a good time,” Santos reminds me. “Just talk, carry on a conversation, ask her about herself. Dating’s easy. Honestly, it’s like hooking up, just without the hooking up part.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah…That’s not really helpful. I, um, I’m like new to all of this.”
“How new?” Van asks.
“Um…brandnew.”
“Damn,” Ollie says, whistling. “I didn’t figure you were a Casanova or anything, but you’re…brand new.”
