"Dude, that's ridiculous. Of course she's into you. She asked me for your number." I leaned over the deck railing and grabbed an unopened beer from some dude's hand.

  "Hey!" he hollered. He turned, saw it was me, and broke into a smile. "Tank! You're good, bro!" He wandered away, presumably to find more alcohol.

  "But how do you know?" Daniel, my best friend, said next to me. He took a sip of his own drink, staring up at the cloudless night. Our breath condensed in the cold November air, bright against the dark sky. "She could be lying."

  "True, but I doubt. You're a rising Senior, the best wide receiver we've got, and you're nice. You're a catch, bro." I looked out over the party raging below us, leaning my hands on the railing. Everyone was having a blast, and a smile spread across my face. We had done it. We had finished the season 11-1, giving the Rebels a winning record for the first time in decades and everyone was celebrating. My thoughts drifted to next week. This time next week, I would be married. I would be dancing with my wife and drinking with my friends, prepping for the play-offs, and a smile grew on my lips. Daniel continued to stress, dragging me from my thoughts. Music bumped in the background, muffled by the house and providing a sound track to his constant worrying.

  "She said she wanted to 'meet up'. What the fuck does that mean?"

  "You're stressing too much, brother. It'll either work out or it won't. And if it doesn't, then it wasn't meant to be."

  "Easy for you to say." he grumbled, taking another sip. "You've got Jennifer. You're going to be a Biologist and she's gonna do real-estate. Y'all've got your lives planned out. I don't."

  "And I had to take chances to do it." I replied, placing a meaty fist on my friend's shoulder. "I believe in you. Just ask her for coffee. Go to the Student Center or whatever, just ask her."

  "Yo, Tank!" somebody called from the crowd. I looked up and saw the Right Guard, Johnny, coming up to me. He stumbled up the few stairs from the yard onto the deck and wobbled there. I reached out and held him steady.

  "You good, Johnny?" I asked, grinning. The big man grinned back at me drunkenly, laughing.

  "Never better, dude! Yo, some of the guys and I were talkin' and were wonderin', where'd that hit on 23 come from? You took his fuckin' head off!" My smile fell from my face and I glowered, looking away. Our last game, the one we had just finished, had been fantastic. We ran Mississippi State up and down the field and held them to a field goal while we scored seventy. I had one of the best games of my college career, too. I made every block and even showed some athleticism, recovering a fumbled snap and turning it into a five yard gain. The one bad thing was the Unnecessary Roughness on 23. Harper, my Quarterback, had thrown a long ball at the end of the second quarter, trying to get another score in. It was picked off by Mississippi State's Corner Back, # 23. He booked it down field, dodging and weaving around my teammates. I, in a moment completely unlike myself, felt a rage overtake me. It was unlike any I'd ever experienced and I tore after the Corner, ignoring the stinging in my chest. I caught him faster than I had expected and, rather than push him out of bounds like normal, I lowered my head and hit. He also lowered his head and braced, meaning my shoulder went straight into his temple. Now, I'm a large fella, 6'6" 320 lbs and can bench 405. That little dude never stand a chance. He spun and crashed to the ground, flopping bonelessly. Thankfully, the trainers were quick and he gave a thumbs up as they carted him off the field, so that's a good sign. At least I didn't kill him.

  "I don't know." I said, glowering into my drink. That rage was familiar, the same growling and grunting, and though I couldn't see what my face looked like when I hit him, I bet it looked like his. Fuckin' smiling. I drained the rest of the beer and crushed it against my forehead, tossing the crumpled blue and white can into the trash.

  "Well, find it, 'cause we're gonna need it for the Natty!" Johnny screamed the last bit and the crowd joined him, hooting and hollering. He wandered away, seemingly having forgotten about our conversation. I scoffed.

  "I'm going to find Jen." I told Daniel as I grabbed two beers from the cooler. "You should go find Penelope. I saw her over by the pool looking lonely earlier. The night's still young. Play your cards right and who knows?"

  "Yeah, yeah." Daniel sighed. He turned and walked down the steps, fading into the crowd. I turned back towards the house, bracing myself. Opening the sliding glass door, I was met with a wall of noise. People screaming over each other was drowned out by a loud, thumping bass that shook my bones. Throngs of people were in the Frat house that night, probably more than there should have been, but that was okay. It had been a huge win and we deserved to let go a little. I smiled as I made my way through the crowd, gently when I could and not so gently when I couldn't. After the third person got lifted, they started to get out of my way. The noise faded as I made my way up to the third floor, where my room was, my smile widening as I thought about who was waiting for me. My wife. The love of my life. My footsteps were light walking down the hall. I felt incredible, like I could do anything. I was riding the high of victory, and loving every second of it. I put my hand on my doorknob and stumbled, my head a little fuzzy. Damn, maybe I drank more than I thought.

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  "Jen?" I asked as I pushed the door open. Only silence responded, and the smile fell from my face. Jennifer, my fiancé, stared back at me, wide mouthed. She had her hands on a pair of ankles and was naked, sitting on the person's lap, in my bed. My mouth began to hurt as my lips sank, quivering as tears formed in my eyes.

  "Jennifer?" the man behind my fiancé said, and I froze. I knew that voice. I heard it call every play in the huddle, every day at practice. I heard it call me its brother. I was supposed to protect it. "Babe?"

  The tears wouldn't come, as much as I wanted them to. They burned at my eyes but refused to fall. I stared at the woman who was to be my wife, my heart breaking in two.

  "Don't look at me like that." Jen said. "Don't look at me like that, Marshall! You.. you don't understand! Anthony's going pro and..." I watched numbly as Anthony Harper bucked his hips and clenched Jennifer's. He moved fast and hard, their sounds grotesque to my ears. She gasped and threw her head back, her eyes not leaving mine. Mine sank down and caught a flash of white on her hand. She was still wearing our engagement ring as she fucked my Quarterback.

  "Marshall?" Harper asked, panting with exertion. He laughed. "Is that Tank? Tell him to get out. He can have you when I'm done." My eyes returned to Jen's blue ones. I searched for anything, for any kind of remorse or guilt, but found nothing. Jennifer groaned long and low, cursing and leaning against Harper's legs, panting hard. I closed my eyes and left.

  ****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

  I sat on the wooden steps of the deck just after midnight, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle and staring at the grass, unseeing. I took another swig of the rot gut whiskey and looked to the sky, searching for the moon and finding nothing. On the other side of the yard, I caught sight of Daniel and a girl holding each other close, swaying to an unheard beat. They kissed, and I took another swig. And then shit went south.

  "Help!" someone screamed. It rang out over the music and noise, piercing the night. "Fire!" I sprang to my feet, or I tried too. I fell into the grass, the whiskey making everything more difficult. I growled, forcing myself to my feet and up the stairs, charging through the glass door. It shattered around me and blasted me with a wave of heat. Terrified people flooded past me, pushing me back outside. I yelled and they moved aside a little. The heat worsened as I advanced through the house, searching for my target. Smoke was starting to fill the halls and the fire alarm blared loudly, not doing my head any favors. The living room was a distraction, however. Five people were passed out drunk in the middle of the room. I looked around for someone to help me, but found no one. Cursing, I picked one up and fell over.

  "Fuck!" I screamed, raging against the world. Why is this happening to me? That same anger from earlier today ignited in my soul, driving me to my feet. I grabbed one person by the collar and picked them up, taking them outside and setting them on the grass. I had time to carry another out before I saw the flames. They raced across the wooden house, consuming everything. I growled and picked up two of the people, dragging/shuffling out of the house. Heaving great breaths and trying not to puke, Growling in rage, I charged back into the house. The last person lay in the middle of the room, not yet burning, but the flames were close. My skin turned red and started to blister as I grabbed them and hauled them out.

  I turned, breathing heavily and coughing. I watched as the bottom floor of my frat house went up in flames when movement caught my eye. Someone was on the third floor, moving around and I saw a light flip on.

  "Jen." I whispered, all pain forgotten. Without thinking, I bounded back up the wooden steps and into the flames. The entire living room was aflame, and I put my hands up to block my face. The flames roared in my ears and I coughed heavily, my lungs filling with smoke. I set my sights on the stairs and made a beeline for them, taking them two at a time, or as best I could, and made it to the unburned third floor relatively ok. Only a little of me had been singed and the alcohol and adrenaline made pain a non-factor. I burst into my room, my heart once again shattering. Jen and Harper were asleep in my bed, cuddling each other. The rage flickered again and an idea formed. I could leave them, let them burn. They're asleep. I could turn around, check the other rooms and come back. I growled, shaking my head. She's still Jen. She's still the woman I fell in love with. I grabbed Jennifer's arm and pulled her out of the bed into my arms and turned around. Her first, then the others. I moved to the stairs, a little slower this time. I felt unbalanced and the stairs swam in my vision, but I had to get her out. The heat grew again as I descended the stairs. The flames had reached the second floor and I cursed. That wasn't good. Still, though, I descended.

  The bottom floor was a living hell. I couldn't see anything but red and operated off of feel alone. Soon enough, I could feel a cold draft sucking the flames away and followed, bursting out into the icy night. I coughed violently, stumbling down the stairs and crashing to the cool grass. I laid there, spinning and wheezing, looking up at the dark, starless sky. I coughed hard, my breathing getting a little shallower with each exhale. I reached out for Jen, holding her hand in mine. My skin was dark and black against her pearlescence, and I couldn't feel her hand. Tears slipped from my eyes as I stared at my wife, the woman who broke my heart. I closed them, trying to stop the tears, and they never opened again.