
Season 5, Episode 15
“Fuck,” Kam muttered to himself, throwing his head back.
“You’re on a pill or something?” she asked as she rolled off him, her eyes fixated on his member.
“You're just some pressure,” he laughed, “That’s all me, baby.”
“You’re going to wear me out,” she chuckled as she reached over, grabbing another condom.
Their activities were abrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door, taking a brief pause and knocking again. She shuffled out of the bed, grabbing her clothes as she looked towards Kam to say something.
“What?” he yelled, not bothering to sit up.
“Trace, let’s go,” said the female voice from the other side of the door.
She relaxed, recognizing the sound of her friend's voice, “I guess your homeboy ain’t on your type of timing.”
“I’m one of a kind,” Kam shrugged, sitting up against the headboard. He reached for his drink on the nightstand, now mostly melted ice.
She came over to his side, giving him a kiss before finishing getting dressed and hurrying out of the room. Kam glanced over to his phone, surprised by the time.
As if Jamal could read his mind, he knocked on the door.
“Don’t you got a flight to catch?"
…
“Again, welcome to Fort Worth, Texas and congratulations on being named to the All-SEC first team list,” the reporter began, flashing a smile to disarm Kam.
“Thank you,” he cleared his throat, the ten-minute-long exercise beginning to weigh on him.
“You’ve had a lot of success, helping turn around a team that didn’t make a bowl game last season. What do you say to the people that highlight some of your struggles against maybe some of the elite team in the SEC? Two yards per carry against Tennessee, less than three against both South Carolina, Georgia. Struggled to get much going against Florida as well.”
Kam looked towards the sports information director, hoping they would step in, “Umm, I don’t know. I don’t really focus too much on that, just try to get better. I came to the SEC to play against the best and I don’t think you lead the SEC in rushing if you’re mutt.”
“I think that’ll be it,” the SID finally stepped in, perhaps a moment too late, “Senior receiver Ja’Mori Maclin will be available shortly.”
She led Kam towards the back, blowing raspberries as she opened the curtain, exchanging Kam for Ja’Mori.
Kam joined the rest of the team that were in the back, enjoying the snacks and finger food that had been put out.
“Did you tell them that next Christian McCaffrey is back here?” Kyrie joked, dapping Kam up.
“These folks just ask questions just to ask them,” he scratched his head, “That shit was boring as hell.”
“Did they ask about me?” Rasheem jumped in.
“Why the fuck would they ask about you?” Kyrie turned towards the redshirt quarterback.
“They kind of did actually,” Kam laughed, “Well, just about who I think the next quarterback is going to be and shit once Brock graduates.”
“Did you tell them me?” Rasheem eagerly asked.
“Nigga, I don’t know,” Kam scoffed, “Nor do I give a fuck. Just hand that bitch off to me, Jason or Kyrie, whoever in the game."
“You really might tote that bitch four-hundred times next year,” Marlon was late to the conversation, “Ain’t all our receivers seniors too?"
“Pretty much,” Kam nodded, “What we got after this?”
“Community engagement bullshit,” Rasheem replied, “We’re hitting the streets after that, though.”
“What time your girl lands here?” Kam asked Kyrie.
“Nigga, what time your girl lands here?” he countered, “I ain’t the only one with a leash on.”
“She doesn’t fly in until the day before the game, nigga,” Kam shook his head, “You on your own, champ.”
“Shit,” he sucked his teeth, “Let’s get to it, then.”
…
“I can do one,” the bouncer relented, “But I can’t do all of them, that’ll look crazy.”
“I ain’t going if my niggas ain’t with me,” Kam stood firm, putting his teammate in a tough spot.
“Come on, Kam,” Angel, a reserve offensive tackle, had set the play up for them to get a section at a gentleman’s club, “Half the team already inside, them young boys can chill at the hotel or something.”
“I ain’t with it,” Kam shook his head as Rasheem, Kyrie and Marlon hopelessly watched along.
“We’re straight,” Marlon finally spoke up, “We’ll find something to do.”
“Hell nah,” Kam crossed his arm, “My niggas coming with me.”
“Fuck it,” the bouncer finally gave in, “Y’all spending money, right?”
“Of course,” Kam flashed a smile, dapping him up as he let them in through the back door.
Kam felt like Nas in ‘Belly’ as he walked through the club, the multicolored lights hitting him as he swaggered towards the sectioned off area where the rest of the team was already seated. Kam quickly made his way to the top of a couch, sitting on the rest as he overlooked the club like he was Batman.
It didn’t take long for them to garner the attention of many of the girls working the establishment, as well as some of the female patrons that quickly made their way over there as well, eager for their thirst to be parched by the bevy of bottles on ice.
“I’m having cash, I can take your bitch!” Kam exclaimed as he slapped the dollar bills against her derriere, grabbing a fistful of money and throwing it up in the air.
“That boy crazy,” Kyrie laughed, throwing some money in the air as well.
Their rain was briefly interrupted by another bottle that was brought to the section, the brand of liquor catching Kam’s attention as they had mainly been ordering D’Usse and Don Julio.
“These are compliments of that section,” she pointed towards another VIP section where several large size individuals were also seated, “They say they’re looking forward to a great game.”
“Should we send one back?” one of the guys asked, looking towards Barion and Kam for approval.
Barion shrugged, more focused on his drink.
“Fuck no,” Kam hopped off the couch, grabbing the bottle from her hand, “Them niggas trying us like we don’t got motion or something?”
“It probably ain’t even like that,” Kyrie tried to calm him down, smelling the liquor on Kam’s breath.
“Just send the boys a bottle back,” Angel reasoned, “They probably just messing around, man, having fun.”
“I’ll send their ass a bottle,” Kam jumped over the rope, Kyrie and Angel following behind him. He moved several people out of his way, keeping a tight grip on the bottle as he approached their section.
“Crazy how we at the same spot,” yelled one of the New Mexico players, extending his hand out for a dap, “Y’all boys look turnt over there.”
Kam threw the bottle towards their direction, shattering upon contact with the table causing all of them to disperse away.
“Nigga, we don’t need y’all fucking hands out, who the fuck is y’all?” Kam slurred, the D’Usse heavy in his speech.
“We ain’t mean nothing about it, bro,” another stepped in, apologetic in tone, “I’m from here, I was just trying to show y’all love.”
“Nigga, who the fuck said we wanted your love?” he screamed over the music, a crowd beginning to form.
“Stop going back and forth with that nigga,” instructed someone from the back, setting off Kam.
He lunged over the stanchion, throwing a punch as soon as his feet landed on the ground. There wasn’t much behind it, but it still managed to stagger his opposition back. Kam couldn’t make much of it beyond that, swinging at whoever was near him as they were soon enveloped by the crowd.
He felt a pull on his shirt and initially loaded up to swing but then recognized Marlon out the corner of his eye. He looked around, grabbing Kyrie as well as Marlon escorted them out of the melee and out of the club with the rest of the security that was outside rushing in.
Kam checked his neck, making sure that his chain was intact as well as the rest of his jewelry on his ears, wrist and finger.
“Y’all good?” he laughed as they began picking up their pace, moving away from the club.
“You’re fucking tweaking bro,” Kyrie held his hand against his forehead, a knot beginning to form.
“I’m a wild boy!” he screamed into the night, cackling all the way down the street.