Chapter 1

                                    

                                          
Lisa
The sharp blow of coach's whistle rings through the air, signalling the end of practice. It takes me only two seconds to claw off the T-shirt that's clinging on to my body, drenched in sweat. Of course coach would put me on shirts on the hottest day of the year.
Running off to the side-lines of the football field, I instantly find my water bottle and take a few swigs, dumping the rest of the water over my head and letting it run down my trained body to try to cool down.
"Good job today, Manoban." coach says as he walks by, clapping a hand over the top of my back, right over my tattoo. Splayed across my upper back in black ink, shoulder blade to shoulder blade, is the word 'UNKNOWN' in big, bold letters. While Manoban is the name stitched onto the back of my jersey, I feel like it's not my real last name. That it doesn't fit.
My mother got knocked up when she was a teen and she doesn't know who my father is. She was either too high or too drunk to recall who she hooked up with at some random party so I have no clue who my father is, leaving me to settle for her last name and wonder about this whole other unknown variable of my life. It's not that I expect my biological father to be a stand-up guy, given my mother's track record, but it would have been nice to know.
"Damn dude! Somi really did a number on you." I hear my best friend and roommate, Hoony, laugh. He comes running up next to me on the side-lines, bending down to grab his water bottle, guzzling it down. Out of breath, he grabs a towel to wipe the sweat running down his face and body. Lucky bastard got to be on skins today.
"Did she break off all her nails?" he asks with humour, amusement dancing in his eyes as he rubs the towel over his sweaty light blonde hair. I furrow my brows, momentarily confused, until I realise that he's talking about my back. That would explain why it stings so bad, all the sweat seeping into the cuts from her nails digging into my back last night.
I can't help the smug smile that tugs at my lips. "Maybe..." I quip back. He lets out a booming laugh, wrapping the towel around the back of his neck. "It's not even the first day of classes and you two are already going at each other like that?" He shakes his head, an incredulous grin on his face as he gestures to my marked up back. "It's going to be a long semester for you, dude. Maybe she'll actually lock you down before graduation." he teases.
"Lock me down? She can only wish."
If there's one thing everyone on this campus knows, it's that Lisa Manoban doesn't date. Ever. I don't even take girls back to my own dorm room so they don't get any ideas, or stay. I go to their place or wherever is convenient, we have some fun, and then I leave. When the deed is done, it's just that. Done.
Some girls are reoccurrences, especially Somi. But that doesn't mean anything other than that they're a fun time. Somi doesn't seem to comprehend that, though. She has been after me since freshman year when we met at an opening weekend party. A raven haired, emerald green eyed beauty with a curvy body that could rock anyone's world, and as captain of the dance team, it's no wonder why she's at the very top of the food chain at this school. It's also no wonder why she's my most frequent reoccurrence, either. Somi is the hottest girl on campus and she knows it.
As head of the dance team and the school's quarterback, we would make the perfect cliché college couple. If people didn't know any better about my reputation, they would think Somi and I were a couple because of how much time we spend together. Again, she's just my most frequent reoccurrence. Nothing more.
Somi has always wanted more from me, though. She's always wanted to put an exclusive label on us and feed into that cliché fantasy of hers - the quarterback dating the captain of the dance team. From the beginning, I told her that I wanted no strings attached. I'm not looking for anything serious. These are my golden years, and I plan to have all the fun I can before the NFL calls my name.
Football has been a passion of mine since I was a kid. It started out as a hobby that my mom forced me into so she could get me out of the house to get high or whatever shit she does. Then, I started taking it seriously, hoping some of the skills could help me ward off some of the junkie and abusive boyfriends that she brought home. By the time high school rolled around, I was skilfully trained in the sport.
In a way, football saved my life. Literally. Aside from making me physically stronger, football gave me a future that I wouldn't have had otherwise. Through the sport, I was able to go to college, something I never thought I'd be able to do as a kid.
Growing up, I never thought I'd amount to anything. I always thought I'd end up like my mother, a lowlife living in an abandoned house, without more than forty dollars to my name at a time, or dead in a ditch somewhere before I even surpassed my teens.
Thankfully, I found sanctuary in football instead of drugs. By my senior year of high school, I had college recruiters coming to my games frequently, offering me full ride scholarships because of how well I could play. Lord knows I could never make it into college solely because of my grades. That's how I ended up here.
I'm in my senior year of college now, and I haven't slowed down with football one bit. I'm training harder than ever to secure my path to the NFL, with recruiters keeping a sharp eye on me. My goal is to get drafted by a professional team after graduation.
"You going to the party tonight?" Hoony asks as we head to the locker room, referring to the annual bash thrown by one of the biggest frats the weekend right before classes start.
"What do I look like, a saint? Hell yeah, I'm going."