The longer I waited to leave the bed, the more painful the sharp ache in the back of my throat became. Thoughts of a cold glass of water tempted me, but my brain felt like it had swollen beyond the boundaries of my skull, creating a sharp pressure that gave way to a pounding headache. Waves of nausea added to my misery.
A groan escaped my lips as I rolled over and let my hand dangle off the side of the bed. My fingertips trailed along a familiar soft, fuzzy rug that always lay parallel to my bed because my feet got cold from the wooden floor.
"Damn, girl. You finally awake?"
Camila's voice sounded unusually high-pitched and wreaked havoc inside my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved my face deeper into the pillow.
"Madison should've known you were a lightweight. You've never drank before and you only weigh seventy pounds."
"I weigh more than seventy pounds," I mumbled into my pillow.
Camila laughed. "Fine, seventy-five. My bad. Either way, I wish I could've found you sooner so I could've taken care of you."
If Camila was at the party, she could piece together the parts of the night I couldn't bring my aching brain to remember. I pulled my face out of the pillow and turned in the bed to face her. The sunlight poured through the blinds of the window and forced me to squint.
I shaded my eyes with one hand and motioned to the window with the other. "Could you, uh, close that?"
Camila left her bed to close the blinds for me. "Hangovers are the worst." She fell back into her bed to type away on her phone. The constant clicking of her long nails against the screen echoed in the air between us.
"What happened last night?" I asked.
Camila raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. "For the first time in your life, you had a good time." She gave me a satisfied smile.
"It doesn't feel like I had a good time. I feel like I got hit by a truck." My body ached like it used to after a grueling week of summer cheer camp.
Camila nodded as she put her phone against her stomach with the most serious look on her face. "You did almost get hit by a truck."
The events of last night invaded my mind in quick, foggy flashes.
"Were you there when it happened?" My hands worked to undo the braids Madison had woven into my hair.
Camila sat up in her bed and turned her attention solely on me. "Yeah, girl. Tessa and I got there late. You were drunk with a real panicked look on your face. I followed you down the stairs, but you wandered into the street right as a car came around the corner. If it wasn't for Daxson Winters, you'd be another statistic about underaged drinking." A small smile played along her lips at the mention of his name.
Out of the hundreds of guys in school, Daxson happened to be the one to save me. He also just so happened to be the same guy I didn't want to let go of last night. It seems I have quite the luck.
"Why was he out so late the night before a game?"
She shrugged her shoulders and reached for a small, folded piece of paper on her night stand. "I didn't feel like that was important question at the time. I was just happy he saved your life." She held the paper out to me. "This is for you."
I took the paper from her and rubbed my temples with my index fingers. The small note was crumbled on the outside, but a neat handwriting that sloped to the right was scrawled across the inside.
Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I think you're one of the only people who would appreciate that saying in this situation. I'll keep this short because I need to get some sleep for the game tomorrow. Basically, I didn't think our next meeting would involve me saving your life, but you're welcome.
You were mumbling about needing to call your brother. You seemed real worried about it, so I gave him a call. I told him you weren't feeling well and would call in the morning. He seems like a cool kid.
Daxson
A laughed escaped my lips, but it was short-lived once I read the end of the note.
He called my brother?
The note dropped into my lap as I searched frantically for my missing phone.
"You good? What did the note say? It took all my will power to not read it," Camila asked.
Her voice faded into the distance when I found my phone lying on the ground beside my bed. The pain from the hangover had been replaced by worry for my brother. A three minute outgoing call from two-thirty in the morning made its home at the top of my call history. Daxson wasn't lying. I dialed my brother's number, and the call connected immediately.
"G-Good morning, Allyson. Do you f-fe... are you better?" Caleb asked with inquisition.
I sighed in relief at the sound of Caleb's voice. "Good morning. Yes, I feel a little better. Is everything okay? You called me kind of late. Mom usually doesn't let you keep the phone at night."
He shuffled on the other end of the line. "Mom hasn't been following the rules much. She d-didn't even turn on the bathroom light in the hall last night when I w-wen... at bedtime. You know I can't sleep without the light on, Allyson."
Frustration built inside my chest and threatened to explode. My mother knew she had to follow the rules and keep Caleb's routine the same. I might be away from the house, but she had another child who needed her attention.
"I know, I know. Is that why you called me last night? You wanted the light turned on?"
"Yes, I'm s-sorry for bothering you," he mumbled.
"No, Caleb. It's fine. You should always call me if you need me. I'm sorry for not being there." I sighed, trying my best to fight back the tears.
It was hard to fight the guilt. Only two weeks into college, I'd already let Caleb down when he needed me. How selfish could I be? Caleb must've noticed the change in my voice because he started talking again which I assumed was his way of trying to make me feel better.
"I talked to your f-friend, Daxson. I was upset at first, but he said you didn't feel w-we... very good. He gave me a pep talk, you know, like they do in football."
I raised an eyebrow as I waited for him to continue speaking, completely interested in hearing what Daxson said to my brother.
"Basically, he was my team who would be there for me and have my back. I f-felt brave because of him and turned the light on myself." His voice was filled with a sense of pride.
The thought of Daxson, a star football player with no connections to my family at all, taking the time to help my brother turn on his light at two in the morning warmed my heart. It seemed like a simple act, but to me, it meant much more. I couldn't hide the smile that made its home along my lips.
"I'm so proud of you, Caleb. Great job." I picked up Daxson's note from where it had fallen onto the bed.
"Allyson, I like Daxson. He seems like a good p-person, like you and me." There was a loud bang on his side of the phone.
"Caleb?"
"Mom is back from t-town. I have to go. I love you. Please get to feeling b-better." The tone in his voice had changed from calm to slightly anxious.
I didn't want to get off the phone, but I knew the longer it took for him to greet our mother, the worse his anxiety would get. "I love you too, Caleb. Thanks."
As the phone call ended, I ran my fingers along the small handwriting on the paper. A piece of me was angry at Daxson for sticking his nose in my business and calling my brother.
Who did he think he was?
If my mother had answered the phone, my whole perfectly-crafted life could've come crashing to the ground. She probably would've pulled me out of school and made me go back to Creighton. I shivered at the thought.
On the other hand, the more sentimental side of me thought it was the sweetest thing. Daxson didn't have to call my brother to make sure he was okay, but he did anyway, which earned major brownie points in my book.
"You going to tell me what it said?" Camila asked again from her spot across the room.
I folded the note and smiled as I slipped from the bed. The room spun like I was sucked up by a twister, threatening to send me crashing to the floor.
I used my nightstand to steady myself. "It wasn't anything important. He just wanted to make sure I knew it was him who saved me."
Camila leaped from her bed with a quickness I was jealous of. "Is there something going on between you two?"
I scoffed as I continued to stumble along the wall to the bathroom. "No, of course not. I would've told you."
"Would your parents approve of you dating a black guy?" Camila followed me along my path to the bathroom.
I stopped with my hand on the handle of the bathroom door and exhaled a deep breath. "No."
Camila raised an eyebrow. "Really? I mean, I knew that used to be a thing, but I wasn't sure in this day and age..."
"The South is still a little behind in regards to stuff like that. My parents were raised that way by my grandparents, and unfortunately, I think it's too late to change their mind."
She watched me with a small glint of sadness in her eyes. "I get it. People are hard-headed. My mother refused to talk to me for weeks when she found out I liked girls, but she eventually got over it."
"Were you scared to tell her?" I studied her face.
"In the beginning, yes. My parents are firmly rooted in the Catholic Church, so I worried about the religious aspect of things. But I also knew they loved me. Sometimes, it just takes time for people to adjust to the idea of something new." She gave me a reassuring smile.
It was nice to see she had a positive view on things, but I already knew my family wouldn't stand for it. They don't stand for anything that makes them look bad.
"Maybe you just have a tight-knit family."
"We do." She glanced at her phone. "Oh, shit. Madison got us seats in the student section for the game tonight. You going to be up for it?"
"I'd love too. It'd be wrong if we didn't go support our football team, especially since they're the best in the nation." I smiled and pushed open the bathroom door.
"You'll get to see your, uh, friend again." She gave me a teasing wink and typed a response on her phone.
I knew Daxson would be too busy to talk to me, but even that realization didn't stop me from thinking about the millions of questions I wanted to ask him the next time we spoke.
Camila snapped her fingers a few times and walked back to her side of the room. "You have a few hours to get yourself together. We want to get there early enough to tailgate."
Once she disappeared, I locked myself in the bathroom with a heavy sigh. The guilt was like ice inside me, threatening to freeze my insides forever.
I felt guilty for my strange attraction to the mysterious Daxson Winters because I was white and raised by a family who would never approve of someone like him. Not because he was a bad person, but simply based on the color of his skin. The thing I felt most guilty about was the fact that even though I knew all of that, it still didn't stop me from wanting to know more about him.
I also couldn't shake the disappoint of letting Caleb down. I was supposed to be the one person who would always be there for him.
My fingers trembled as I twisted the polished silver knob marked "hot" in the shower and water cascaded down into the tub. The noise of the shower would hide the evidence of my suffering. Hot steam filled the bathroom and collected along my skin. I dropped to my knees by the toilet.
Vomiting rid the guilt and shame from my body. It was a kind of purging, and I felt compelled to do it. My fingers slipped down my throat and earned a gag, but it wasn't enough.
Nothing I did was ever enough.
I pushed my fingers further because I was determined to get a response. My empty stomach growled and contracted in protest, but I would continue to dry heave until I felt cleansed.
After my episode and a hot shower, I exited the bathroom with a refreshed smile on my face. Camila stood in the corner of the dorm by her mirror and assessed herself in a long black maxi dress with Alabama pins littering the straps along her shoulders.
"How does this look?" She twisted in the mirror to get a different angle before glancing over to me for approval.
"You look great as usual, Camila." I pulled my Alabama jersey over my head and paired it with white shorts and Converse.
Camila flashed a white smile when I looked at her again. "You really aren't into dresses, are you?"
I shrugged my shoulders as I tucked a few of my thick curls behind my ears. "My mother made me wear them a lot growing up. I prefer T-shirts and jeans or shorts. It's more comfortable."
"Tessa hates wearing dresses, but she loves to see me in one." She grinned and shoved her phone into her purse. "Madison is going to meet us at the Kappa Alpha house. You ready to go?"
"Yeah, I'm right behind you." I finished applying red lipstick before exiting the dorm behind her.
The resident hall was lifeless and quiet except for the security guard in the creaky chair at the front desk. All students had abandoned their dorms for the beautiful weather outside.
In a few short weeks, the fall season had overtaken the campus and pushed away the summer heat. A chilly breeze blew my buoyant curls around my shoulders and carried with it the strong fragrances of smoked sausages, grilled hamburgers, and homemade baked beans. The air was cold yet the trees above us were on fire. Scarlet and gold licked at the cloudless blue sky before swirling to the ground at our feet. Our walk to meet Madison was more vibrant than any carnival parade. A mixture of screaming kids and laughter from drunk adults filled the air with a joyous warmth.
As we walked past the band gathered in the Quad, the members raised their instruments in union. A guy dressed in a sparkly uniform climbed to the top of a ladder and flicked his wrist.
Within seconds of the command, the music for the "Fight Song" blasted from the instruments, giving the crowd an opportunity to erupt into loud cheers. The overwhelming thrill of game day shook me to my core, and Camila and I continued along in silence so we could enjoy the atmosphere.
My eyes landed on Madison as soon as we entered the yard of the fraternity house. She stood with her back to us and chatted with some girls I'd never seen before.
I marched over to her and gave her a gentle punch to the arm. "You ditched me last night."
Madison rubbed her arm as she stepped away from me. "Ouch. I'm sorry. You saw that guy I was with last night." She shrugged. "One thing lead to another..."
"Was he worth leaving your friend?" I glared at her.
"No, not really. He sucked in bed." She gave me a warm smile. "You seem fine though."
I rolled my eyes.
"How was your first hangover?"
"It was terrible. I barely got out of the bed this morning." I folded my arms across my chest with a frown.
"Madison, you're supposed to take care of your friend if she's drunk, like hold her hair up and shit. She almost got hit by a car last night," Camila added over my shoulder.
Madison's eyes widened. "Oh my god. Is that true?" She pulled me into a tight hug, but was careful not to spill thered solo cup in her left hand. "I'm so sorry for being selfish. I promise it won't happen again."
I hugged her back. "It's fine. It was really my fault for wandering into the street."
Camila smirked at Madison. "Her Prince Charming saved her."
Madison released me and raised an eyebrow. "You mean my chocolate thunder?" She took a sip from her cup.
"The one and only, girl." Camila fist bumped Madison before both their eyes turned to me.
Blushing wouldn't have been a problem, but I turned as red as a beetroot and radiated heat like a hot pan. You could have cooked a three course meal on my face.
"Can we please stop talking about the man like that? I've only talked to him like twice, and one time I was intoxicated and basically unconscious." My shoulders hunched as I let out a sigh.
Madison sensed the seriousness in my tone. "Okay, Southern Princess." She grinned at me as she raised her drink to her lips again.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
She drummed her nails along the side of her red cup. "I just find it crazy that he's bumped into you twice."
I shrugged and watched her take another long sip from her cup. "Coincidence?"
I hadn't even noticed Camila disappeared until she handed me a cup over my shoulder. I hesitated to take it.
"What's this?" I asked, staring down into the cup at a clear liquid.
Camila laughed. "I got water for you. I thought it'd be best if you took a break from drinking." She took a sip from her drink and smiled. "Unless you're feeling wild."
"No, thanks." I turned my attention to Madison who chatted away with some new people who had joined the party.
Tailgating was a fun experience. It was exactly what I had always imagined it would be when my father and I used to watch the games on T.V.
Southern hospitality was on full display at football games. Fans passed out free food because nobody wanted to take home leftovers. Honestly, it was hard to pass up the offers because it was the epitome of comfort food, all freshly cooked with a warm southern twang. It reminded me of the food from family reunions and summer barbecues. Anytime we passed a tent, the jolly drunks would invite us over to check the scores of other football games or to participate in some of their tailgating activities.
As the start of the game neared, we crossed the street to the stadium with a mass of other students and funneled into a line with a huge white sign that read "Students Only". Security guards in yellow vests scanned our student I.D's and allowed us access to Bryant-Denny Stadium. People bustled back and forth from the concession lines to the memorabilia placed in strategic areas around the stadium.
We'd eaten plenty while we tailgated, so we headed straight for our seats. The student section was positioned at the corner of the left end zone behind the Tide's bench, wedged between the members of the band.
When we exited the tunnel, I thrust myself over the railing to get a good view of the field. My father would have loved to see a game in person. I used to beg my mother every Father's Day to get tickets to an Alabama game for his present, but she always told me it was a terrible idea. She said Caleb wouldn't like the loud noises or all the people, and we would have to leave. It would be a waste of money she would say.
Fans dressed head-to-toe in red and white filled the stadium. The signature Alabama pompoms bounced up and down in the air. The sun sank behind the box seats at the top of the stadium and cast a large shadow across part of the crowd.
On the field, the players warmed up on their respective sides as people continued to settle into their seats for the game. My eyes focused on number eleven as he caught a pass from his soon-to-be pro quarterback, Xavier White. Daxson's pads and uniform made him look much taller, but his movements were still smooth and athletic like he put forth no effort at all.
"Allyson, come on." Madison tugged at my elbow and forced me to follow her.
We found seats at the bottom of the student section only a few feet away from the field. The announcer's voice echoed throughout the stadium as he introduced the teams.
Adrenaline flowed from the field into the stands and swirled around the entire stadium. It was the sort of tension people craved because it came right before the elation of another win for the Crimson Tide.
After the blow of the whistle, the crowd erupted into a roar of cheers as the kicker made contact with the ball and sent it flying into the hands of the other team's return man. The Tide's defense was solid every season, and they didn't disappointment the fans this game either. They stopped the opposing team on all four downs, and soon, the ball was back in the hands of Alabama's offense which was rated number one in the nation with multiple players headed straight to the National Football League.
On the first offensive play of the game, Xavier completed a fifty-four yard touchdown pass to Daxson, who made an outstanding one-handed catch over the top of a defender. The crowd chanted his name as the team mobbed him in the end zone. The student section went wild while the team celebrated in front of them. I couldn't keep my eyes off of Daxson, who looked completely in his element.
It didn't take long for the game to turn into a blowout.
Daxson was the star of the show, adding another two touchdowns to his opening one within the first half. He racked up an impressive one-hundred and ninety seven yards on only four catches. He was even more exciting to watch in person than on the television screen. No wonder his name was on the lips of every college football sportscaster in the nation. He was like a god among men, and it blew my mind that I'd met him.
By halftime, the team was ahead 35-0. Loud applause and passionate cheers followed the players into the locker room. The band played a beautiful ensemble at the half to keep the crowd pumped for the second part of the game.
Upon returning for the second half, the Tide annihilated their opponents with only their second string. Coach Saban continued to coach like they could lose the game until the very end. My father always admired Coach Saban because he never let up.
Once the final whistle blew, the Alabama players shook hands with their opponents and made their way across the field to the student section. The band started the fight song as they approached, and the football team lifted Daxson and Xavier White onto the rail directly in front of us.
They led all the students in singing the song, but Daxson's eyes of hazel and honey lingered on mine, shining like sunlight on polished stone and hiding a wealth of things unsaid.
A real smile spread across my lips. It wasn't the fake one that my mother had taught me to wear to hide the depression and the pain. It stemmed from something deeper, my new found freedom to act how I wanted without repercussions from my family. I didn't have to be the perfect child anymore, and I didn't have to hold onto my parent's rules.
Once the song ended, the students and players cheered. It wasn't long before chaos erupted as everyone tried to leave the stadium for the nearest party. I held onto the rail and squeezed past the people rushing to the exit. Madison and Camila were swept away with the crowd, but I knew they'd be fine.
I focused on Daxson who was still clinging to the white rail as he talked to a few students who passed by him. He acknowledged a few girls who lingered around to talk to him. They flirted and laughed, but ultimately, the girls were disappointed. They didn't get the response they had wanted and headed for the exit as well.
Daxson turned his head in my direction with a smug look on his face. "Hey, you looking for someone in particular?"
As I approached him, I kept my eyes on my shoes to hide the smile on my face, but it was impossible to hide the flush of pink to my cheeks.
This was my moment to go against everything my parents told me. What they don't know won't hurt them, right?
I stopped in front of him and brought my eyes from the ground to meet his dark ones.
"Yes, uhâ" I squinted my eyes and pretended to glance around. "I'm looking for Daxson Winters. Have you happened to see him around here?"
He chuckled, but the amusement wasn't only in his voice. It was in his eyes and evident across his strong features.
"You do have quite a sense of humor, don't you?"
"I've honestly never had anyone say that about me. A lot of people think I'm stuck up because I have resting bitch face."
Daxson laughed again as he leaned across the rail and closer to me. "Then they don't actually know you."
I raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger at his chest. "You don't really know me either. I could be the daughter of a king in another country or a psycho serial killer on the edge of self-destruction."
Daxson leaned away from my finger with a bright smile on his face. "I know I don't know you yet, but I'm hoping you'll give me the chance." He braced his arms against the rail. "Besides, if you happen to be a killer or a princess, I'm pretty sure we could make it work."
I really didn't understand his interest in me. Madison said he didn't talk to white girls, and last time I checked, the color of my skin hadn't changed.
"Why me?" I asked, running my hand along the rail.
Daxson hesitated and turned his head from me. "Does it matter?"
I shrugged. "I mean, I guess not."
He must've picked up on my disappointment. "You seem real down-to-earth. Plus, I love the southern vibe I get from you."
He mumbled something else under his breath as he dropped from my sight and landed on the field beneath me.
The cool railing against my stomach made me shiver as I hung over it to look down at him. "You could tell all of that from a five-minute talk?"
Daxson smiled before stepping closer to the wall. "I'm a talented guy."
"Pretty cocky too."
He glanced up at me. "Do you have anywhere to be tonight?"
I laughed and shook my head. "No, why?"
"Great." There was no hesitation in Daxson's voice. "That means you can hangout with me. Now, jump down."
"I'm not supposed to be on the field."
Daxson shrugged his shoulders with a mischievous look on his face. "That's what makes it fun."
I sighed.
His fingers dug beneath his pads on his chest and he looked up at me. "Come on, live a little."
I placed my foot against the rail. "I'm getting real tired of people telling me that."
Daxson laughed before a teasing grin spread across his face. "Then do something about it, Ally."