#Score by Kerrigan Grant Page B

the big boys out there."
    I punch him lightly on the shoulder and glance around, mentally check-marking the differences between this club and The Ruins. There's no long line here, no one waiting to get inside. If you want in, all you have to do is flash them your ID and you go right in.
    It hits me. This is really happening. Next week I'll be officially moving to California. Whoa . . . time to play with the big boys for real.
    "Ready to kick it?" he says. "One more go for old time’s sake?"
    "Hell yeah." we both say at the same time, fist bumping before handing the bouncer our IDs.

    I t only takes a few minutes before we’re on the dance floor. While some guys out there look like sharks in the water, me and Joshua are more like the happiest damn dolphins you’ve ever seen. The girls come to us when they see us dancing and having fun—it never fails. And even though they’re flocking to us, something feels off. Dammit, and I thought my beer pong game was bad tonight. Not wanting to party with my best friend and all these hella sexy girls? This is even worse.

    T here's a beautiful looking woman trying to catch my eye, giggling and playing with her long black hair while she dances and usually that's my thing, I love that. But for some reason it’s just not working for me tonight. I watch as Joshua gets pulled deeper into the crowd of people by the girl he's dancing with, and it’s like déjà vu. But why?
    All these nerves bubbling in my stomach are stressing me out for sure, but all I can do is chalk it up to being nervous for the move and pre-season beginning. It's a big change, I'm allowed to be a little apprehensive if anything. That's all it is.
    But the rest of the evening I can't focus, can't concentrate on just having a good time. And let me tell you, that is the absolute first time that's ever happened to me. When I party, I party hard, and tonight should not have been any exception.
    It’s sad, but I'm actually relieved when Joshua gives me the nod. He’s got his arm around his girl for the night, and I’m just ready to go back to our apartment for one last stay in it. In the morning, Joshua will be the first to pack up his stuff and go, heading back on a flight to Illinois to get the rest of his things before flying out to Oregon next week. Maybe I'm just being a sentimental bitch, but I’m going to miss the motherfucker. Will I tell him? Probably not, but I know he knows. It’s just an unspoken thing.
    My plans are pretty much the same — move the rest of my stuff out of the apartment and into my car. Then I'm driving my baby out to California over the next week, moving into my brand-new place right outside of L.A. I’m not a millionaire yet, and even though I have plenty of money coming to me, in L.A. it doesn't stretch as far. Guess I'll have to be the next Beckham after all. No sweat.

    * * *
    I kick back on my brand-new couch, exhausted for the second week in a row. And I thought Clemson pushed hard – they’re nothing compared to the SLA. All these practices, and the two pre-season games too . . . I've never been more ready for a nap in my entire life. It's a good thing though, it challenges me and makes me even better than I was before. That's how you play when you get to the big leagues, and watching the other guys play is pretty damn cool too. I know I’m the rookie this year and I've been ripped a few times already, but I'll get used to it, and I’ll earn my spot just like everyone else does. Probably quicker because I've seen them watch me play, and I know they've never seen someone as tricky or fast as I am on the field. What can I say? It's a gift .

    I pull out my phone to check the time, almost laughing when I see how early it is. Coach likes to get us out practicing on the field first thing in the morning, reminding me of the runs way back in high school where we had to run around the school block five times before we could even begin playing. Except now it's on the professional