#i bet you if fanny had her mouth when the teams were being named she absolutely would have said life pact but she couldnt. poor thang

[occasionallycoinpin]

// tpot 12 spoilers

occasionally coinpin 117

filling him in on the things he missed

[katecarteir]

make my way back home [when i learn to fly]

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] w/ stanley uris/patty blum [stanpat], mike hanlon/bill denbrough [hanbrough] & beverly marsh/kay mccall [mcmarsh] word count: 2,138 chapter 1 of 10 beta’d by: @treegelbmen & @photoboothreddie​ summary: He stiffened for a moment, thinking it was Coach Henderson coming over to yank him to his feet, but the touch was much too gentle. “Hey, Richie. Come on.” Eddie Kaspbrak’s voice whispered in his ear, and Richie had to wonder if the fall had knocked him completely unconscious. He let Eddie pull him to his feet, and mostly just stared at the other boy as Eddie helped him gather up the loose- and now slightly damp and dirty- Chemistry notes. ⤹ class scholar richie tozier and school track and field icon eddie kaspbrak rekindle their childhood friendship  loosely based off the art concept by @caliceal   

read on ao3

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @treegelbmen @photoboothreddie, @appojoos, @s-s-georgie, @chaotickaspbrak, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope​, @thorn-harvester-ven​, @wheezyeds​, @vipertooth​, @tozierking​, @billdenbrough​, @itfandomprompts​, @loserslibrary​ (let me know if you want added!)

“HEY FOUR EYES!” 

Richie was breaking into a sprint before he even had a second to think about it. He took off, leaving his friends behind, without even stopping to wonder if there was a possibility that they weren’t even shouting at him. Too risky. The assholes in this school had been tormenting him his entire life, whether it be because of his glasses or his messy clothes or from the mere fact that he was so much smarter than they were, Richie wasn’t sure. He’d probably never know the truth. 

Despite all the years of running away from bullies, Richie Tozier wasn’t exactly in great shape. He knew that even with a head start, he wouldn’t be able to outrun those bastards forever, so he took a sharp left and rushed out the back doors. He went up the cement stairs three at a time, praying that he didn’t fall and get a severe injury. He skipped, nearly face planting himself on the hard gravel, but let out a soft breath of relief when he didn’t. 

He steadied his feet and smiled around him. before realizing, of course, that he was carrying his seventh period books in his bag, and all the necessary items for doing his homework were still inside his locker. Richie huffed out an annoyed breath. There was no way he could go back inside now and risk getting caught by Bowers and his goons, presenting himself as a perfect target. He trudged over to the bleachers and dropped his bag carefully to the cold metal before sitting beside them. 

He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out his tattered copy of Dead Poet’s Society. Though not an old book by any means, it was already well loved. It had been Richie’s first real purchase, saving up the allowances of an eleven year old boy for nearly a year after seeing it in stores when it was released. As Richie had gotten older, he had begun to understand both why his father didn’t want to buy it for him, and why it called to him so deeply. Nearly four years after its purchase, it was still Richie’s favourite book and was rarely out of his possession. 

The commotion on the field dragged Richie’s attention away from his book before he could open up to the page he had marked to reread. The track team was running out of formation, and even Richie could tell that Coach Henderson looked pissed. Richie hadn’t interacted much with the gym teacher since gym stopped being a mandatory class at the end of freshman year, and admittedly, he actively avoided anywhere in the school he might run into the teacher who had told him directly to his face that he was only passing Richie so he wouldn’t have to teach him again the next year.

One of the students caught Richie’s eye and Richie felt his face begin to heat up. Eddie Kaspbrak. Once upon a time, a million years ago, Eddie and Richie had been friends. Frank Kaspbrak, Eddie’s father, and Richie’s mother had grown up together and were long time friends. Mrs. Kaspbrak had never liked the Toziers, never trusted Richie’s mother around her husband, and after Frank had died, she had done everything in her power to push Richie and Eddie apart. It wasn’t hard to stop five year olds from spending time with one another, and eventually, Eddie became just another face in the crowded school hallway.

Or, at least, he should have. Somehow, despite years of distance and borderline indifference, Richie Tozier still had a bit of a soft spot for Eddie Kaspbrak. Even after little dorky Eds ditched his fanny packs and colour shorts for sports wear and gym bags, Richie maintained firm that Eddie was good. All of Richie’s friends claimed that all jocks must be terrible, and Richie had yet to have any proof that they weren’t all egomaniac assholes, but he just didn’t believe that his first best friend could be like that. It was possible for people to simply like sports and not be terrible people, right? 

Richie didn’t notice his backpack tipping over until the papers started to blow through the field and towards the track team that seemed to be in the middle of getting their asses handed to them by Coach Henderson. Richie cringed and cursed under his breath, wondering for a moment if his grades could handle losing all of his AP Chemistry notes and he could get away with just taking off before the team noticed him. 

“What the- TOZIER!” Coach Henderson shouted, turning his attention and rage away from the members of the team and towards Richie, who was frantically grabbing at the papers still close enough for him to reach. “You’re distracting my runners! Come get your work and get out of here! This is a closed practice, boy!” 

Richie scrambled to his feet and rushed out onto the field, only to immediately slip in the grass and go crashing into the ground. He let out a small and pathetic noise that was completely involuntary and slipped out from the back of his throat, listening as the laughs of the track team immediately erupted around him. For a moment, Richie contemplated laying there until he died, but then he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. 

He stiffened for a moment, thinking it was Coach Henderson coming over to yank him to his feet, but the touch was much too gentle. “Hey, Richie. Come on.” Eddie Kaspbrak’s voice whispered in his ear, and Richie had to wonder if the fall had knocked him completely unconscious. He let Eddie pull him to his feet, and mostly just stared at the other boy as Eddie helped him gather up the loose- and now slightly damp and dirty- Chemistry notes.

“I think they’re salvageable.” Eddie told him, with a soft smile. Richie blinked at him, and hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt like they were. 

He opened his mouth to respond, to make some sort of awkward joke or simply just thank Eddie, but Coach Henderson’s loud and annoyed voice cut him off. “KASPBRAK! Get over here or you’ll be running suicides for the rest of the week!”

Eddie shot Richie an apologetic look and jogged back over to the rest of his team. Richie stared after him for a moment, knowing he had on a dazed expression, but Coach Henderson gave another angry shout of his last name and Richie took off the field. He grabbed his bag, not bothering to try to cram his papers back inside, and rushed into the school. Surely the Bowers gang would have taken off by now. They weren’t exactly the type to loiter around after the final bell rang.

Stanley Uris, however, certainly was. He was leaning against Richie’s locker, and he looked almost as angry as Coach Henderson had just looked outside. Richie cringed and knew he was dragging his feet as he walked over. Stan’s hands came down to his hips and skewered Richie with his deepest disappointed look. “Did you forget that we’re supposed to go to the library after school today? We have to get ahead for the decathlon, Richie! It’s our last time to win! Aren’t you taking this seriously?”

“Yes, I’m taking it seriously, Staniel!” Richie snapped, tossing his bag to the ground and yanking out his Chemistry binder to begin putting his papers back into place. “I didn’t forget about the library.” He had. “Bowers and his gang chased me outside after last period. I was just waiting until I felt like it might be safe to come back into the school.”

“Oh.” Stan immediately dropped his angry stance and calmed his expression. “They messed with your notes? They’re such assholes.”

“Uh.” Richie cleared his throat, quickly shoving the rest of his notes into his bag before Stan could reach down and help him. “No actually, I just didn’t… my backpack fell while I was waiting outside and my shit flew all around the field.”

Stan made a sympathetic noise. “Bet Coach Henderson was real understanding about that.” 

Richie chuckled his throat. “Yeah, not so much. But actually…” He smiled towards the ground. “Uh, Eddie helped me get my stuff up. He didn’t laugh at me.”

Stan’s hands froze in the midst of helping Richie zip up the bag. Richie slowly moved to look at Stan and frowned when he noticed the skeptical look on Stan’s face. “What?”

“I just-” Stan quickly zipped up Richie’s bag and handed it to him, pulling them both up to their feet. “I thought you were over this whole Eddie is a good guy stuff. I know you want to believe that, but we aren’t five years old anymore.” 

Stanley was the first friend Richie had ever made on his own. For a short period of time, both Eddie and Stan had been a part of Richie’s close friends- along with another neighbourhood boy, Bill Denbrough, who was still around somewhere- but Stan was the only one Richie was really close with anymore. They were pretty much inseparable, and Stan had made it clear that he certainly didn’t believe their former friend was a nice guy at all.

“I know you hate him or whatever-” 

“I don’t hate him. I don’t even know him.” Stan interrupted him. “But neither do you. Rich, he’s not five years old anymore. You having a sandbox crush on Kaspbrak doesn’t mean he’s a good person. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Richie stiffened. This was the first time he and Stan had ever said anything close to acknowledgement of Richie’s sexuality. And while in all of their years of friendship, Richie had never heard Stan say anything hateful, Richie still felt fearful of saying the words out loud for fear of losing his oldest and dearest friend. He sometimes wondered if Stan knew, but it had never come up in any sort of conversation. 

The two friends looked at one another sadly for a moment before Richie plastered a smile over his face. “No need to fear, Stanny my Stanny! You know by now you’re my one and only. No need to get jealous!”

Stan rolled his eyes as Richie tossed an arm around his shoulders and chuckled loudly into his ear. Stan attempted to swat him away, but Richie only held onto him tighter. “Noooooooo!!” Richie moaned dramatically. “My love rejects me! Whatever should I do? I simply cannot live after such heart break!”

Stan struggled to get free from Richie’s grip, only succeeding at knocking them both to the dirty vinyl flooring. Richie cackled, squeezing Stan tightly and continuing to enjoy his overdramatic struggles until somebody cleared their throat behind them. Richie and Stan quickly leapt apart, Stan managing to get to his feet quickly while glaring at Richie. Richie sat up onto his ass and blinked in surprise as he took in the site of Eddie Kaspbrak, standing awkwardly and looking between the two of them warily.

“Can we help you?” Stan asked him coolly. 

Eddie blinked at him then frowned with a deep furrow of his brow. “Just uh… Richie left this book outside on the bleachers when he ran off. I wanted to make sure he got it.” Eddie held out the ratty copy of Dead Poet’s Society and Richie’s heart clenched in his chest. How could he not have noticed he’d left it behind? 

Richie scrambled to his feet and ran to Eddie, graciously accepting the book and pressing it to his chest. “Oh my god, thank you so much!”

“No problem.” Eddie said, sounding almost bashful. “It looked worn down, so I figured you must really care about it. I didn’t want anything to happen to it and you never get it back.”

Richie thanked Eddie again, hugging the book close. Eddie looked at Richie for a moment more before giving him a small smile. “You know, uh, practice gets out in about forty minutes? I know that’s a while but if you wanted to wait, then after maybe we could-”

“Sorry.” Stan suddenly interrupted loudly, causing the boys who had both forgotten his presence to jump. Stan stalked over and stood at Richie’s side. “We have to get going actually, Eddie. We have some very important studying to do for scholastic decathlon next month. Sorry.”

“Oh.” Eddie said quietly, looking a little dejected. “Right, of course. Sorry. Another time then.”

“For sure.” Richie said lightly, but Stan was already tugging on his arm and pulling him back towards his locker to get the rest of his things. Eddie kicked at the ground for a moment before turning and jogging back outside. “That was rude.” He hissed at Stan.

Stanley rolled his eyes. “You’ll thank me later.”

[collateralfiction]

OBJ Short

DREW

“Aye, three stacks, where you at, my love?”

With a little help from my coconut and avocado oil concoction, I carefully combed through my tresses and slicked my hair into a low ponytail at the back of my head. I was growing frustrated with having my natural hair out for so long that I was honestly contemplating siting through 5 hours of faux locs. And God knows I have zero patience to sit for an extended period of time, let alone have someone in my head at that. With Air Pods sticking in my ears, I could barely hear my best friend yelling at me from downstairs. Sliding back into my fluffy slippers, I stepped out of my room, looked over the staircase and down at her with a cheesy smile.

“Well don’t you look amazing. Jimmy Choo?”

“Absolutely and why are you not ready?” she sassed, placing her hand on her hips.

“Girl, it’s only All-Star weekend. This is not the Met Gala and the only reason I’m going is because you asked me to go. If I had my way, I would rather sit home and not get classified with a bunch of thirsty women trying to trap someone else’s man. Been through that and I’m past that,”

“I know how you feel about it, mama. But honestly, we’re just going for a good time and to network like usual. Stop acting ugly,” Kory laughed.

“You know I would rather stay in and catch up on The Walking Dead but fine. My outfit is already picked out too. I just need to throw it on. Being natural is so time consuming,” I complained as I watched her take her time up my spiral staircase.

“But it seems like you had more than enough time to do that face of yours,” she laughed, hugging me tightly. It was always Drew and Kory or Kory and Drew. If you see one, you would see either one of us not too far behind. That’s just how it went. I would say I was a social butterfly but when I find people I click with, I tend to stick with them and have reservations on wanting to make new friends.

“Oh girl, you know I love a good beat. I didn’t do anything too crazy. Just foundation, highlight, eyebrows, eyelash and lips,”

“So again, a full beat,” she laughed, pushing me into the bedroom.

“Oh, bitch. Call us an Uber or something,” I said as I dropped my robe and quickly ran into my walk-in closet to pick up the outfit of the day. Since it was only a simple basketball game that would be filled with multiple press outlets, celebrities and spectators, I still had to look my best. I wore a bright two-piece neon green sweater skirt set, and paired it with my favorite Versace sandals- if you must know the name, they’re called the Triple Strap Platform High-Heel Sandals. The heels in itself is perfect for me because with my little above average height and toned legs, it’ll just bring out even further my Goddess like features. Not to bring all the attention on me, I grabbed one of my favorite fringed black jean jackets to seal in the look. I normally carried a bag with me, but I figure a Fendi fanny pack to sling across my body would be so much easier.

“No Uber. We got car service and it’s downstairs waiting,” she said as she leaned against the doorway. “Woah, mama. You look damn hot. You’re sure to get someone’s attention tonight. Use the Burberry Her scent. It’s so refreshing,” she suggested.

“Thank you, babe. I’m pretty much done. We can go before I find something else I need to do,” I smiled.

“Wait, we have got to take some photos first. Because you know after this, we’re going to the afterparty,” she expressed, walking into the connected bathroom. When I moved into this house almost five years ago, everything that I had in here was crafted to what I wanted specifically. Everything had to be of my standards and whether that was me ripping everything out and starting from the ground up, so be it. My bathroom had one of the largest mirrors in the house, spanning from the floor to the ceiling as soon as you walked in. That’s where most of my photos were taken as people have noticed a certain pattern on Instagram.

“Smile, bitch,” Kory said, immediately smizing like the professional model she is.

I turned to the side to show the profile of my body and the shoes, smiling seductively in the picture. We took turns taking solo pictures of one another until we both sought out at least three good pictures we both could put on IG. Soon after, we both dashed out of the house and into the waiting car.

The ride to the Staples Center was nothing short of traffic and corny jokes shared between Kory and I. We couldn’t help but laugh at all the Instagram models suddenly making an appearance at a sports’ filled event. I could understand if they were going to support their love ones or something else in between. But to just be here for clout and attention is lame. At least pretend like you keep up with the festivities.

As we entered the world-renowned arena, we were escorted promptly to our seats to make it in time for the National Anthem. But Kory and I couldn’t help but say hi to many of the familiar faces we passed. I preferred to be seated in the skybox up top, but this was the All-Star game. It was only right that we sit courtside and by Gabrielle Union, DJ Khaled and Ludacris. Kory had someone grab us some refreshments while we settled in comfortably and I couldn’t help but to take out my phone and do a photo-op with Mrs. Wade. The arena begun to darken with the announcement of the National Anthem beginning. As much shit this country has put people of color through, I didn’t feel the need to stand. But if the players were going to stand tall and hold their head’s high, that was the least I could do. So, we stood and laughed.

Fergie was chosen to sing the National Anthem. Aside from being a part of the Black Eyed Peas, and a few hits of her own, I wasn’t the first one to be eager to put her music on. But hey, this meant more publicity to her and probably a great marketing tool. I didn’t understand the need to change up the format of the song, but Fergie’s slow and jazzy rendition missed the target. “What in the world?” I muttered, stifling back laughter. Kory’s snickers and slick comments had me and Gabby ready to throw the towel in and walk out of the arena. After taking a look at Draymond’s face, I knew from that moment on I could no longer hold it in. It even progressively grew worse when she yelled “Let’s play some basketball!”

The chatter continued around Fergie’s interesting remix of a song before the game begun to really start. I was actually happy that Kory convinced me to come out tonight because it made me realize how lax and chill the All Star games are when they’re competing in the name of charity and having fun. By the time halftime came around, Team Stephen was ahead by two points and it was still a close game. Pharell, N.E.R.D and Migos led the halftime show performance which gave me enough opportunity to get up and walk around. Kevin Hart and Drake were on the opposite sides of the court and I made it my business to harass the two men who call themselves my big brothers before making a quick beeline to the bathroom.

“Ass check,” Kory said. I laughed as I turned around so she could take a look. The things she would say would be so out of pocket and random, but I swear she’s the only person I know who could get away with it. “Great so when Mr. Blonde Curls comes over here for a sneak peek, everything will look proper,” she smiled.

“Who?” I questioned, sliding my glasses atop my head.

“Odell Beckham Jr. He is so damn fine. But I know he doesn’t like black girls but the way he’s looking at you, would make me eat my words all over again,”

“Girl, you just said a mouthful that will have to be addressed later,” I said, shaking my head as I turned my head to follow the direction of her eyes before our eyes both locked together and my words got caught in my throat. It was him. I quickly turned around and grabbed her hand to move her back to our seats. “I think he was looking at someone else. Come on, let’s go sit before it starts back up again,” Out of curiosity, I turned my head around to see if he was still staring at me and to my surprise he was.

I hadn’t seen this man since LSU days, how does he still recognize me?

ODELL

“They ain’t never gone invite my black ass up here; we cutting up way too much,” Ben laughed, taking another sip of the Henny and coke mix. You couldn’t really take Ben anywhere but what would be a party without Ben? It was impossible. He was needed whether you liked him or not. I couldn’t miss the 2018 All Star Basketball game even if I wanted to. The stars were aligned for me to attend. I was in L.A. to see my pops and brother, have a few meetings lined up with Nike and hey, the All Star weekend just happened to fall in my lap. Right time and place. I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. And, I had my right hand man Ben. Perfect. “You’re making fun of the back of this nigga head. He finna spin that camera on your ass and show them what they don’t really want to see,” he said as he continued to blabber on and on.

“Don’t be upset because Dave Chapelle ain’t laugh at your corny ass joke,” I snickered. “Or the fact that the bets these kids have been making thus far, you’re losing in all of them. That’s crazy, broskie,” I said.

“You know what? That just sounds like words from a true hater. My new mixtape gone have you as the very first athlete that gets dissed, can’t wait,”

“Don’t matter to me long as I can still dress,” I said, shoving his arm. He was always trying to come for my dome and by now, I was used to all of his antics.

“Ain’t no one worried about you and that damn Supreme satchel my nigga sold you on,” he said, kissing his teeth.

“Man, I’m tired of this. Keep my seat warm,” I said as I stretched a little and grabbed my empty cup of beer. The arena had plenty of employees but not for a tiny second would any of them leave our section alone just to make sure we were satisfied and had everything we needed. I’m sure they were excited to see big stars and this is probably not the first time, but I would get tired quick waiting hand and feet on us celebrities. Absolutely not.

The halftime show was underway which put everyone else’s attention on the performer, my eyes were locked on someone else. She passed me on the way to her seat and I couldn’t place a name to the face, but I knew her. Her laugh was the same as I remembered it; so vivid. But where did I know her from? I had to distract myself with things around me or else I’d be staring at her the whole time, trying to figure it out. And knowing Ben so well, he’d pick up the pieces. I was tempted to walk over there and say something but how do you introduce yourself to a stranger without it being strange? You don’t. I posed for a few photo-ops before finding myself a bathroom, grabbing some snacks and making my way back out just in time for the start of the third quarter.

I wasn’t too interested in the game after my mind was warped with trying to figure out how did I know her. After another hour and a half of the game, team Lebron came out with the win. It was a close game and it was no brainer that Lebron James was walking away with the MVP award and title for the night. He scored 29 points, had 10 rebounds and 8 assists. Tell me he wasn’t dedicated.

The floor was mixed with a bunch of people; reporters, players, celebrities, you name it. I lost her in the crowd of people, and it wasn’t helping that Ben was trying to build the courage to talk to Beyoncé, knowing damn well he was the last thing on her mind. “Yo, bro, we finna head over to the afterparty,” I wasn’t too interested in going out myself but after convincing myself that a night out wouldn’t do me any harm, I agreed to go. Besides that, I couldn’t let my boy have all the fun.

___

She was there again.

Cabaret was a popular club in New York and had recently opened up a spot in Los Angeles. It had only been opened for a month thus far but the way the lines were wrapped around the block, and the fact that the club itself was at its capacity just showed you how well thought out and lucrative it is to open a club of this magnitude. I nodded my head to the beat of the music as I followed behind the security team to Snoop’s VIP area. All I saw were girls, girls and more girls, big ass bottles of champagne and a thick cloud of smoke. But sitting behind in the corner was the same woman I saw earlier at the game, with her friend I’m assuming, talking to Lonzo Ball. What are the odds? Everyone must know everyone in Hollywood.

“What are you staring at so damn hard?” Ben asked, after grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the waitresses and handing it to me.

“Her,” I mumbled. “She looks familiar, but I don’t know where from,”

“You fucked her?” he said, stepping in front of my view.

“I gotta fuck everyone to say they look familiar?” I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You fucked-“

“Okay, happenstance which doesn’t really count. Move outta my way real quick,” I said.

“Aye, you want me to help? I could be the wingman, ice breaker, whatever your stiff ass needs,” he chuckled, throwing his hands up. I chuckled, shaking my head as I passed him by and went towards the direction of the lady in question. I stopped midway when I realized I didn’t really have a game plan and the fact that she was surrounded by people only really meant that this wasn’t the moment to approach her. Let me fall back.

“Beckham! Brody, what’s happening, boy? I haven’t seen you in weeks,” I turned around and smiled, bringing Drake into a brotherly hug. Out of all those that put on a show in this industry, Drake was really a stand-up dude and even a few months back, I was crashing at his place till I was well adjusted. I could never repay him for that.

“Ah man, Champagne Papi, what it do, man? I’m out here with Ben crazy ass, just getting in some fun in the sun,”

“Or stirring up some trouble. Aye, listen. I’m about to head on out but I’m having a little get together at my crib in Calabasas. Come through, I’ll send you the details,” he said as he patted my shoulder. “Bring Ben too. He’s good times.”

“This nigga finna be hype as shit. Will do, brody,” I said, giving him one last dap before I parted ways and greeted Snoop. I wasn’t that big of a drinker to begin with, but no one would know it by how hype and energize I was by just music alone. It was sort of like a painkiller for me. Just the beat alone could put me in a great mood no matter what the situation was. The club itself didn’t look like it dying down anytime soon and maybe an hour or two into the party, I had lost Ben in the crowd of people. With a dead cellphone and cloud of smoke hanging around me, there was no way possible I would be able to locate him. So, I sat on the couch, hoping he would notice his friend with the blonde curls wasn’t dancing any longer.

“I’ll be right back, Kory. I promise. I just need to get some fresh air,”

“Drew, I am not letting you leave by yourself. I’ll come,” My ears perked up at that revelation as I turned my head to the left to listen. They were there the whole night and in their own zone with conversation. We locked eyes a couple of times, but they were quickly cut short by either her friend, Kory, blocking my view or some random girl trying her best to persuade and talk to me.

Her name is Drew.

Drew Jordan.

DJ.

We went to Louisiana State University together.

That’s exactly how I knew her; a short flame that quickly fizzled as soon as I made it pro. I got up and grabbed my bottle of water and followed behind her slowly, watching her every movement. She still looked the same as before and I just didn’t know how I could forget a face like hers or a smile as radiating as hers could be. All of a sudden it felt like reality was sinking in. “Drew?” I called out as soon as I stepped outside. She stood off to the side drinking from a bottle of Sprite. I had watched her for five minutes before deciding to call her name. She turned around slowly and her eyes widened upon seeing me. “I probably caught you off guard, I ain’t mean to do that… I just been staring at you since the game and… I probably sound like a straight up creep,” I laughed, walking towards her. “Do you remember me?”

“Doesn’t matter if I remember you, everyone knows you,” she smirked. “But, how could I forget? How are you, Odell?”

“I’m doing great.. I can’t complain. I love how you say my name like we don’t got history, girl,” I teased, taking a step closer towards her.

She chuckled slightly and twisted the cap back onto her soda bottle and looked at me. “Well, if I do say so myself, I do recall once upon a time someone denying my phone calls so…” she trailed off.

“That wasn’t intentional, baby. I mean- Drew,” I said, tucking my bottom lip into my mouth to prevent me from saying anything else but I think it only had the opposite effect as the words already came out of my mouth.

“Calm down, Odell. It’s an Orleans thing, I get it,” she laughed. “I also understand that your career took off so damn quick, so I’m not surprised we lost touch. It happens in life,” she shrugged. I could tell she was cold by the way she tried to grip her jacket closer. It was corny but I was thinking I should offer up my jacket for an added layer of heat.

“Do you want my jacket? I think trying to look cute caught up to yo stubborn ass,” I teased, already shrugging my jacket off and placing it around her shoulders.

“Now you know I have a jacket of my own and now you’re going to get sick,” She said.

“That’s fine, that just means you gotta come to the crib and take care of me,” I winked.

“You haven’t changed at all,” she snickered. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t be too thrilled to see another woman’s face all in her man’s space,”

“Most likely not but you’re not just another woman. You’re a pretty woman that I got history with and I don’t have a girlfriend so it works out even better,” I smiled.

“Oooh, lucky me. Maybe I’ll finally get a text back from you,” she laughed, the dimples in her smile making my stomach flutter upside down.

“Nah, you ain’t never gonna let that go. Are you?” The quick shake to the head was all the confirmation I needed. “How about this, I take you out tomorrow from brunch or something along the lines of that and we just catch up completely. No bullshit, just like LSU days,” Her lips twisted to the side as she tapped her finger on her chin a few times in contemplation. From what I remember of Drew, she has always been stubborn but that’s what attracted me to her instantly. She had a good head on her shoulder and what could be looked at as arrogance was actually her just being confident which is one thing we had in common from the jump.

She was fiery, passionate and a damn bad ass athlete. Not to mention I thought she was so beautiful and still do, to this day. She was naturally a tom boy; she dressed in nothing but Nike tracksuits and Jordan’s. But she made it work because she always had her hair done up, nails on like Flo Jo and would do her make up every now and then. Then when she really wanted to show out, she would completely dress up and would wear the tightest possible dresses ever. And of course, that would piss me off because of all the attention she would get from guys. If it wasn’t from me and me only, I didn’t want her receiving anyone else’s attention.

We fit together like puzzle pieces.

“It’s a deal, but only on the ground that I get to choose the location,” she smirked.

“You know I like to take control. Let me pick it and you pay,” I countered.

Her laughter radiated and became louder as she bent down a little. “Fuck all the way off!” she continued to laugh. “You still owe me for running me dry from my Tiger card. I swear you was only my friend for the food,” she recalled.

“Nah, you know better than that. But the 5 dining hall was the spot. You know damn well I couldn’t resist them omelets,” I laughed.

“No, you’re absolutely right. Well worth it,” she smiled. “Well, I guess this is the part where I assume we exchange information again?”

“I follow you on Instagram already,” I admitted.

“Since when?” she questioned.

“Today. After the basketball game, actually. I had to make a completely new account once I hit the pros and your old handle no longer worked so I had to do a little extra work to get your current handle,”

“Boy, bye. What extra work? You still just as dramatic as ever,” she waved off. “I guess I can do a quick follow back,” she teased.

“And while you’re at it, maybe slide me your number too,” I said, reaching for my phone, only to remember that it was dead. “Shit, or maybe you put my number in and just text me. My phone is dead,”

“Ah, making me do the work. If I text and don’t receive a text back, you’re going on the blogs, Beckham,” she said, pointing her nails in my chest.

“Deal, baby girl,” I smiled.