5:29 AM. I turn my alarm off before it's set to ring and groan, dragging my sore limbs into a sitting position. Being an athlete takes a toll on every inch of your body, especially this far into the season.

I peek out of the window and catch the sun rising. It shines a bright strobe of light directly into my eyes and I know I need to get my day started.

Soreness is temporary, success can create a high that lasts forever.

I jog to the weight room and spend an hour on my usual set of cardio and weight lifting machines.

Around 6:30, Ken joins in to my surprise. The other guys work out, obviously, but they usually get a session in during practice hours. I guess my early morning and late night workout schedule was just another instance of me going out of my way to isolate myself from everyone else. Maybe I should change it?

"Since when did you come in so early?" I say, continuing my leg-day set.

He jumps like he didn't expect anyone here, then makes his way towards my machine.

"Since I've needed to step my game up." He extends his hand for a fistbump. "I'm trying to get on that Reyes regiment that's got you playing like a beast out there. The Cleveland Cavaliers want a piece of me, I need to walk away Friday night knowing I'm getting at least one guaranteed pick during the drafts. "

I finish my set and lower my legs off the cushion to get a well-needed break. "Cool, let's go to the court and do some drills."

Ken and I are more in sync than we've ever been during our practice. I can truly see him giving his all and it shows through every move and shot.

We're so focused on our game that when my 8:30 alarm goes off, we almost decide to skip our first class to continue playing. We decided against it, though, because we have regular practice in a few hours anyway and neither of us want to look tired in front of coach during such an important week.

Plus I've been trying to take my education more seriously. Seeing how dedicated Summer is to her studies makes me want to at least do more than the bare minimum of copying answers from Quizlet and Chegg.

***

I get back to my room, clean up, and make it to my 9:30 business and society class with a few minutes to spare.

Ken and Miles are in my class too and I've been sitting next to them in the last row since we've reconciled, but they can be distracting with their conversations and jokes, so in the spirit of my new commitment, I decide to move to the second to last row where half of the seats are usually empty.

I send Summer a quick text before my professor comes in: Morning, beautiful. Have a great day, love you.

When she texts back: You too, handsome. I love you.

I settle with a smile and put my phone away to focus on the lecture.

I'm not able to focus long before Ken and Miles come to class and make a B-line for my row.

"What are you doing sitting here, Reyes?" Miles says while he and Ken settle themselves into the two seats next to me without concern.

I don't mind it so much, I guess. They want to sit next to me, they want me to be a part of their riff. Being included isn't such a bad feeling.

***

Practice is intense as ever. All the joking around and conversations go out the door the second we're on the court.

No one misses a beat, no one slacks off, and no one questions coach when he has us go an hour over practice time.

When he pulls us into a huddle after calling it for the day, I actually stand amongst my teammates with pride. We're gonna kill it Friday night, there's no doubt about it.

"Two more days, fellas. Two more days until we face off against, if I'm being frank, our toughest competitors in the tournament. Villanova has always been great, and this year thanks to the addition of their brilliant point guard JJ Harris, they're damn near undefeated," Coach says.

I lower my head, absorbing the gravity of taking on our competition. Anticipating the work that will go into defeating them. Everyone else is silent, no doubt feeling the same way.

"But let me tell y'all a little secret." Coach continues, raising his voice. "JJ Harris is nothing against our Carter Reyes, D'shawn Winston is nothing against our Darren Blackburn, and Villanova is nothing against our mother-trucking, gun-slinging, panty-stealing Pennwood Penguins. Now are y'all gonna go out there and steal some drawers or are y'all gonna let them take your pretty little panties?"

Everyone's voice comes together in a deep chant. "Steal their drawers! steal their drawers! steal their drawers!" We collectively erupt into animalistic growls and march down the locker room like an army assembly line.

I'm not gonna deny how weird coach's pep talks and our rituals can be. We're guys, we do stupid stuff sometimes. All that matters is it gives us the spark of energy we need. 

Since practice is behind me, the busy part of my day is dwindling down and now I can meet up with Summer at the library where she should be finishing up with her tutor.

As I head there, I call Sam twice and get her voicemail twice. The verdict on her custody case will be heard on Friday. I wish I could go to support, but I have my game and she insists she'll be fine alone.

She sends a short text: I'm at work. We can talk later.

That's something I can hold onto, at least. She hasn't wanted to talk to me since Jake's birthday.

***

"Gun-slinging, panty-stealers?" I scrunch my face hearing Carter talking about his practice. "What happened to playing basketball?"

He laughs across the table at my expression. "They're just euphemisms. He wants us to kill it out there, you know. Kick ass and take names."

They better be euphemisms.

"Your coach is eccentric, that's for sure." I leave it at that.

The library is packed today. With finals a few weeks away, this is around the time both party-goers and A-students doubledown to stay on track. Even Carter, who I've barely seen doing his schoolwork since we've known each other, is glued to the screen of his laptop, completing one of his assignments.

I'm not just observing the people in our atmosphere, it looks like they're observing me back as well. More like studying me and Carter.

We're seated by the entrance and everyone who walks in and out seems to immediately land their eyes on Carter. Their face twists with recognition, then turns once again with wonder at the girl who sits across from him, me. And it's not just some quick stares, it's straight up uncomfortable gawking.

Some even come up to him and shake his hand, praising his talents and their enthusiasm for the upcoming game. Carter tells me he doesn't even know them, he's just used to being approached in this manner by strangers on campus.

He doesn't notice the stares and welcomes the approaches with a healthy dose of polite humility.

This isn't the first time we've gotten these looks, but before I thought maybe it was because of our height difference or small PDA here and there, but no, that's not the case in this situation.

It's starting to dawn on me now, I'm dating an athlete. Not just an athlete, a sports star.

With Cory, we broke up by the time he reached his high school peak and during college, things usually stayed in the dorm room between us. This is the first time I'm experiencing being with someone who's semi-famous.

The thought along with the library's blasting AC makes me shiver.

This is something I'm going to have to think about. Especially if Carter and I continue to get more serious. He's going to the NBA there's no doubt about that, which means I could potentially be an NBA girlfriend... maybe more. A lot comes with that.

Carter taps his foot against mines under the table. "You alright? You've been staring into space the last few minutes."

I snap out of it and send him a smile. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about anatomy."

"My anatomy?" He smirks.

I tap his foot. "Stop being horny."

Three of his teammates join us in the library. Ken, Chris, and Miles. Darren and Aleena have rehearsals or else I bet he'd be a part of the group as well.

The three are unsatisfied with our table up front and convince a study group in the back to switch tables with us. I don't agree with it and would've spoken up, but the group seemed more than happy to switch.

They take their laptops and books out, though it's hard to see how much work they'll be able to complete with the way they talk and talk.

Thank god I finished my work for the day or else I'd have to go back to my room to get anything done.

"What happened to the girl you were seeing from St. Joseph?" Miles asks Chris.

Chris turns over to share a look with Ken. "She was a certified—" He and Ken both bang their fists on the table twice then flick their wrists in the air like they're throwing a shot into an imaginary net. "—ball hopper."

"She's a certified ball hopper. She was seeing me, Randy on the football team, and talking to Marcos on the baseball team. I mean, she had herself covered. One way or another she's getting herself a professional fool. I'm just glad it's not me." Chris continues, dusting the dirt off his shoulders like it's nothing. I can still see a hint of hurt.

Carter looks worriedly at me for some reason. I think he's getting flashbacks to charity night when he accused me of being a ball hopper and the following fight that ensued.

It's funny thinking back to that night now. So funny that I laugh, which causes Carter to relax from my reaction and laugh too.

"What's funny?" Miles looks between us.

"Yeah, I'm trying to giggle too." Chris says.

"It's an inside joke." Carter winks at me. "You wouldn't get it.

The guys rag on Carter for a while. They ruffle his hair and call him all sorts of whipped and it's playful the entire time.

After everything I heard about his relationship with his team, this is an entire 180 and I couldn't be happier for him.

I leave them to their banter and venture off into the maze of bookshelves. As I flip through a sociology book that catches my eye, I feel a tap on my shoulder.

Ken greets me with a smile. "Hey, I wanted to catch you privately to discuss something."

"What?" I ask, confused curiosity filling me.

I wasn't a fan of the guy for a while after I heard about the fight. Now that I'm getting to know him more, I find him to be tolerable. A little rowdy and aggressive sometimes, but mostly tolerable.

"You know Carter's birthday is next week, right?" He asks in a whisper.

"Yeah."

"Do you have anything planned for it?"

"I'm still in between gift ideas." I say, which is more of an understatement because I still have no idea what to get him.

"Well me and some of the guys were thinking of throwing him a little party at the frat house."

"I don't think that's a good idea and I think you know why." I shake my head.

"I know but listen up, it's not gonna be a regular frat party, trust me. We're keeping everything on lock. Invitations only, the crashers won't even know we're throwing it. No booze, and no drugs. We just want a fun night where the entire team can let loose and have some straight up fun, including Carter. It'll be a safe space for him, I'll make sure of that. I just wanted to see if you'd want to help out. I think he'd appreciate it more if you had a hand in it."

I think about it for a while. I wouldn't use a party as his gift, but it could be part of a surprise. The only question is, would Carter want a party? I don't think he'd mind, especially if we keep it clean.

"Okay, but you have to promise me this party will be contained and monitored throughout the night. You have to promise me everyone will be cool with no alcohol or drugs," I say.

"I promise." He smiles, holding his hand out so we can shake on it.

We exchange numbers and coordinate a time to meet to plan the specifics. Ideas are already running through my head and I'm excited for what will be a fun night for Carter and his teammates. 

I hope it'll be fun.