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Judd

"Next week, I think it'd be beneficial if you would concentrate more on getting to the center rather than swerving to the outside. Our plan is to cut the corner, then go to the middle," coach tells me, my head nodding.

We go over a few more things as we talk and he lets me go, my feet moving out of his office. The two of us always go over film the day after the game. It's something I asked him to do with me, simply because this is my passion. School sucks and I hate the thought of potentially working in a cubicle the rest of my life.

My dad pushed me. So hard. His passion was med school and he had explained to me that his diligence for the sport was purely because he enjoyed playing. I decided at a young age that I want to grow up and play football for the rest of my life. It's not the fame or the fortune; it's the passion.

I drive home and get out of my car, walking into the house. My friends all say hello and I wave back to him, my body walking to my room. I get some of my homework done, hating the stupid work that I know will never prove to be necessary in the future. Fuck homework.

"Judd, wanna go and get some food," my friend Hank asks after he walks into my room.

"Yeah, man, give five minutes," I say, typing a few more things on my laptop. I scrunch my face at the words on the screen, attempting to decipher my English homework.

Who knew there was more meaning behind words? Not me; clearly.

Once I put shoes on, I meet him downstairs and we walk down the street to the diner on campus. We sit in a booth and start talking about the game next week.

"I've been seeing this girl and I think I want to take her out. On, like, a proper date," he tells me, breaking our momentary silence once we get our food.

"If you're looking for advice, I don't think I'm great about the subject," I remind him, his lips smiling.

"I know, but you're my best friend," he says, and I roll my eyes.

I've dated here and there, but it was never serious. Took them on a few dates, went to a few dances, but I never dated more than a few months until either of us lost interest. Plus, I'm extremely picky.

My one main rule when it comes to dating a girl is they need to understand that my life is spent trying to fulfill my dream of playing football professionally. I need support from them and the minute I feel as if they question it, I can't be the boyfriend they want.

"What do you have planned?" I ask, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, I was thinking we could go see a movie. Make it simple," he explains, and I shrug.

"Seems good enough for me. It's a simple first date," I tell him, and he nods.

"When's the last time you went on a date?" he asks, my hand grabbing my water.

In reality, I hadn't dated since high school. I'd hooked up with a few girls the first year of college because it was what everyone was doing. It's not something I'm proud of, but it was fun while it lasted. None of those girls go to school here anymore because they've all graduated, so I no longer have to awkwardly run into them.

"High school," I say simply, and he nods. He tells me nice and I roll my eyes.

"I don't think any girl will understand how busy I am and that I am driven to keep playing after school. I got this season and then the NFL combine," I say, and he nods as he chews his food.

"You're going to be fine, considering you were invited to the fucking combine two weeks into your senior season," he says, a hint of jealousy in his voice. I worked hard for this; I deserve it.

I drop the topic.

"Are you excited for your internship?" I ask him, his head nodding. The bastard gets to intern on the New York Stock Exchange floor. That's a sweet gig for anyone who likes stocks. I took one class on investments and I told myself I'd hire someone to do all my financial work because that shit went in one ear and right out the other.

"Bro, couldn't be more excited. It sounds so awesome," he says, and starts telling me about what will all be happening. Sounds like he's going to fit right in with the brainiacs stockbrokers.

We finish up dinner and get back to the house, and I get to my room. I finish up some of the work for tomorrow and get ready for the night.

Through my exhaustion from the game this weekend, I get to class on Monday and take a seat, waiting for the professor to walk in. My body slouches in my chair and I try to get comfortable, my body too large for the desks.

As I adjust, I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around. "I was curious if we could switch spots? You're a little taller than me," she says, and I smile at her. Her brown eyes look into mine and I find myself unable to find something to say. Then I remember she asked to switch seats.

"Of course," I tell her, standing up. She wasn't kidding when she said I was taller than her. The girl is a foot shorter than me, at least.

I take a seat and I find myself looking at her a majority of the class. My eyes take in the dark orange hair on the top of her head and I see freckles on her cheeks. She's pretty; I've never seen her before. Probably because my bulky ass was sitting in front of her.

We're dismissed and I stand up, looking down at her. "Have you always been in this class?" I ask, her big brown eyes looking up at me. She has freckles all over her nose and she doesn't seem to be wearing make-up.

"Yeah, I just got fed up with trying to see behind you so I said something," she tells me, and I smile. She's quick to the point; I appreciate that.

"Could have told me sooner. I'm a reasonable guy," I tell her, and she just smiles up at me.

"It's all good," she says, taking her stuff and walking away. My eyes follow her, not knowing why I hadn't talked to her sooner. I wish I had; maybe could have made this class bearable considering I have no idea what the fuck is going on in it.

My eyes trail down her body as she walks away, her figure soon halted as she catches up to a few other girls. Someone bumps into me and I barely take note, the kid apologizing to me. All my focus is on the girl who's friends are now looking at me.

The thought crosses my mind that they might be talking about me, but I don't mind. It's kind of a cool thought that I have a girl like her potentially interested in me

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