End of the Prophecy
Gina laid on Caesar’s back, SportsCenter providing the only noise in the apartment.
“You’re being quiet today,” she said.
“Don’t have anything to talk about.”
“You had a lot to talk about when you got here.”
Caesar laughed. “No, all I had to talk about then was fucking. I don’t have shit to talk about now that we’ve accomplished that.”
“I should throw you out for that.”
“I’d have to take my shirt back.” He reached back and started to pull his shirt off her, but she snatched the fabric away and smacked his hand.
“The fucking curtains are open.”
“You act like your neighbors have never seen ass and tits before.”
“I’m not in the business of giving people free shows.”
“The shows I get are pretty free.”
“Fucking ass.” Gina smacked him on his back. She pushed herself off him and walked to the kitchen.
Dealing with Caesar was still hard for her after their vacation to San Diego. He’d told her that was the end of him and Kaley, but nothing was ever cut-and-dry with Caesar Jenkins. Nonetheless, her patience with him would pay off in a big way soon.
“Could you turn the TV up?” she asked from the kitchen.
“Why the fuck do you want to listen to SportsCenter?”
“Could you just do it?”
…
“We’re less than ten minutes from the deadline for juniors to declare for this year’s NFL draft and we have our own draft analyst, Stephen Harper, with us for his first mock draft of the off-season. Stephen, what are your initial thoughts on this draft class?”
“It’s one of the deepest classes that we’ve seen in recent memory and that’s without Devin King in it. You can legitimately tell yourself that any of 15 players can call themselves top five picks. The combine, workouts and teams’ needs will determine who goes where but we’ll be seeing playoff teams getting first-day starters out of this class.”
“Let’s not talk about all the permutations right now. At this early point of the process, who do you have going in the first five picks?”
“Texas Christian cornerback Jerome Neff is going to benefit massively from Devin King returning to school. I had Neff as the second defensive back off the board in the ten to fifteen region, but the Saints are going to have to take him at five if he is there. They desperately need a franchise cornerback and I think Neff can be that if he is given time to develop more. The Rams and the Blaze are both going to be in the market for offensive tackles and I think Ohio State’s Danny Rolfe and Arizona State’s Jorge Ramero will go to one of those teams depending on who they like more. USC’s Alex Morales is an obvious top-two pick for me. He can be a franchise quarterback from day one and that’s exactly what the Chargers need at number one and what the Dolphins want at number two. The problem is that you have, arguably, the best physical prospect we’ve ever seen in this year’s class in Caesar Jenkins. San Diego fans would be calling for general manager Billy Shepard’s head if he doesn’t take Jenkins first.”
“We’re actually getting word that Caesar Jenkins has yet to file the paperwork to enter himself into the draft.”
“Deion Jenkins, who I’m going to assume is going to represent his son, is the master of getting the most bang for his buck.”
“I don’t think this is a ploy by Deion Jenkins this time, Stephen. It’s being reported now that Caesar Jenkins has not filed and as the deadline to file has now passed, he will be returning to school for his senior year. I’ll say that again, consensus number one pick Caesar Jenkins will be returning to Tulane for his senior year. We’ll have more on this story as it becomes available.”
…
Gina ran back in the living room and watched as the breaking news scrolled along the bottom of the screen. She couldn’t believe her ears. She turned to Caesar. He looked much too calm for someone who’d just let the one of the biggest opportunities in his life slip through his fingers.
“You didn’t declare for the draft?”
Caesar shook his head, “Nope.”
“What do you mean ‘nope?’ Why wouldn’t you declare for the fucking draft, Caesar?”
“Why does it fucking matter? I decided not to so I fucking didn’t.”
She grabbed one of the sofa pillows from the floor and threw it at him, “That’s not even a God damn excuse. At least, bullshit about it.”
“I don’t need to bullshit about it, Gina. It was my choice. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“You fucked everything up, you fucking idiot! You were supposed to declare for the fucking draft! What good are you if you are in college for another damn year?”
Caesar stood up from the couch and walked over to Gina, towering over her. “What good am I if I’m in college? Why does it matter, Gina?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter, does it?”
“It does matter. What the fuck did you think this was? Your Disney movie? You thought I was going to ride in on a fucking unicorn with a suit of armor and safe you from a life of bagging fucking groceries?”
“Don’t act like I’m the first person to see you as a meal ticket, Caesar. I’m just the one who has gotten the closest to making it happen.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, close to her neck. He felt her tense. “You disgust me. Brave little **** though. What’s another red flag on my sheet? I’ll have a year to change what people think of me.” He shook his head and stepped away from her. “You can keep the shirt. I’m sure you can sell it to some cat lady in Wyoming for a few hundred dollars. My parting gift to you.”
“Go ahead. Walk out of here all high and mighty. You’re just like me, Caesar. You use people to get what you want. We’re going to Hell together, buddy.”
“Blah, blah, blah. No one gives a flying fuck about all that eternal damnation bullshit.” Caesar slipped his shoes on and started for the door. “Have fun bagging those groceries, bitch.”
“You know my facilities are the best there are for showing off how good a kid is before the draft, Deion. Don’t try to short change me.”
Deion Jenkins looked around the field he and another man were standing in the middle of. Louie Bozeman had earned a reputation for putting draft prospects through the ringer and showing general managers and scouts who was and wasn’t worth picking.
“We’re talking about my son, Louie. This field feels a little… sub-standard right now. The last thing I want is for him to make a cut and break his fucking ankle weeks before the draft.”
“I can’t help it if you pass down brittle bones.”
“The kid’s been hurt twice in his life and they’ve both been during his time at Tulane. I’d say it has more to do with their shoddy medical staff than any genes I’ve passed down.”
Both men paused as their phones began ringing, each excusing themselves from the conversation. Deion sighed as his assistant’s name flashed across the screen.
“What do you want, Tiffany? I told you not to call me unless it was important.”
Deion’s grip tightened on the phone as he listened to the assistant. “What the fuck do you mean he didn’t declare for the draft? I have to have the dumbest fucking sons in the world. No, I don’t need you to do anything. If he wants to waste time then let him.”
He hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket.
“Looks like you won’t be needing my services, Deion.” Louie laughed as he ended his call.
“The fuck I won’t. I have four other clients who are going to need a little refining before they go to the combine. Let’s talk numbers and improving this shitty fucking field.” Deion stabbed at the turf with his shoe. “What is this shit? AstroTurf? We aren’t in 2004 here, Louie.”
“That’s premium grade shit. Don’t go talking about my damn field or I’ll charge triple.”
Deion laughed. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. C’mon, let’s hammer out the details. You’ll like these kids. They are driven and all those other compliments people rain on players.”
Gina laid on Caesar’s back, SportsCenter providing the only noise in the apartment.
“You’re being quiet today,” she said.
“Don’t have anything to talk about.”
“You had a lot to talk about when you got here.”
Caesar laughed. “No, all I had to talk about then was fucking. I don’t have shit to talk about now that we’ve accomplished that.”
“I should throw you out for that.”
“I’d have to take my shirt back.” He reached back and started to pull his shirt off her, but she snatched the fabric away and smacked his hand.
“The fucking curtains are open.”
“You act like your neighbors have never seen ass and tits before.”
“I’m not in the business of giving people free shows.”
“The shows I get are pretty free.”
“Fucking ass.” Gina smacked him on his back. She pushed herself off him and walked to the kitchen.
Dealing with Caesar was still hard for her after their vacation to San Diego. He’d told her that was the end of him and Kaley, but nothing was ever cut-and-dry with Caesar Jenkins. Nonetheless, her patience with him would pay off in a big way soon.
“Could you turn the TV up?” she asked from the kitchen.
“Why the fuck do you want to listen to SportsCenter?”
“Could you just do it?”
…
“We’re less than ten minutes from the deadline for juniors to declare for this year’s NFL draft and we have our own draft analyst, Stephen Harper, with us for his first mock draft of the off-season. Stephen, what are your initial thoughts on this draft class?”
“It’s one of the deepest classes that we’ve seen in recent memory and that’s without Devin King in it. You can legitimately tell yourself that any of 15 players can call themselves top five picks. The combine, workouts and teams’ needs will determine who goes where but we’ll be seeing playoff teams getting first-day starters out of this class.”
“Let’s not talk about all the permutations right now. At this early point of the process, who do you have going in the first five picks?”
“Texas Christian cornerback Jerome Neff is going to benefit massively from Devin King returning to school. I had Neff as the second defensive back off the board in the ten to fifteen region, but the Saints are going to have to take him at five if he is there. They desperately need a franchise cornerback and I think Neff can be that if he is given time to develop more. The Rams and the Blaze are both going to be in the market for offensive tackles and I think Ohio State’s Danny Rolfe and Arizona State’s Jorge Ramero will go to one of those teams depending on who they like more. USC’s Alex Morales is an obvious top-two pick for me. He can be a franchise quarterback from day one and that’s exactly what the Chargers need at number one and what the Dolphins want at number two. The problem is that you have, arguably, the best physical prospect we’ve ever seen in this year’s class in Caesar Jenkins. San Diego fans would be calling for general manager Billy Shepard’s head if he doesn’t take Jenkins first.”
“We’re actually getting word that Caesar Jenkins has yet to file the paperwork to enter himself into the draft.”
“Deion Jenkins, who I’m going to assume is going to represent his son, is the master of getting the most bang for his buck.”
“I don’t think this is a ploy by Deion Jenkins this time, Stephen. It’s being reported now that Caesar Jenkins has not filed and as the deadline to file has now passed, he will be returning to school for his senior year. I’ll say that again, consensus number one pick Caesar Jenkins will be returning to Tulane for his senior year. We’ll have more on this story as it becomes available.”
…
Gina ran back in the living room and watched as the breaking news scrolled along the bottom of the screen. She couldn’t believe her ears. She turned to Caesar. He looked much too calm for someone who’d just let the one of the biggest opportunities in his life slip through his fingers.
“You didn’t declare for the draft?”
Caesar shook his head, “Nope.”
“What do you mean ‘nope?’ Why wouldn’t you declare for the fucking draft, Caesar?”
“Why does it fucking matter? I decided not to so I fucking didn’t.”
She grabbed one of the sofa pillows from the floor and threw it at him, “That’s not even a God damn excuse. At least, bullshit about it.”
“I don’t need to bullshit about it, Gina. It was my choice. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“You fucked everything up, you fucking idiot! You were supposed to declare for the fucking draft! What good are you if you are in college for another damn year?”
Caesar stood up from the couch and walked over to Gina, towering over her. “What good am I if I’m in college? Why does it matter, Gina?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter, does it?”
“It does matter. What the fuck did you think this was? Your Disney movie? You thought I was going to ride in on a fucking unicorn with a suit of armor and safe you from a life of bagging fucking groceries?”
“Don’t act like I’m the first person to see you as a meal ticket, Caesar. I’m just the one who has gotten the closest to making it happen.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, close to her neck. He felt her tense. “You disgust me. Brave little **** though. What’s another red flag on my sheet? I’ll have a year to change what people think of me.” He shook his head and stepped away from her. “You can keep the shirt. I’m sure you can sell it to some cat lady in Wyoming for a few hundred dollars. My parting gift to you.”
“Go ahead. Walk out of here all high and mighty. You’re just like me, Caesar. You use people to get what you want. We’re going to Hell together, buddy.”
“Blah, blah, blah. No one gives a flying fuck about all that eternal damnation bullshit.” Caesar slipped his shoes on and started for the door. “Have fun bagging those groceries, bitch.”
“You know my facilities are the best there are for showing off how good a kid is before the draft, Deion. Don’t try to short change me.”
Deion Jenkins looked around the field he and another man were standing in the middle of. Louie Bozeman had earned a reputation for putting draft prospects through the ringer and showing general managers and scouts who was and wasn’t worth picking.
“We’re talking about my son, Louie. This field feels a little… sub-standard right now. The last thing I want is for him to make a cut and break his fucking ankle weeks before the draft.”
“I can’t help it if you pass down brittle bones.”
“The kid’s been hurt twice in his life and they’ve both been during his time at Tulane. I’d say it has more to do with their shoddy medical staff than any genes I’ve passed down.”
Both men paused as their phones began ringing, each excusing themselves from the conversation. Deion sighed as his assistant’s name flashed across the screen.
“What do you want, Tiffany? I told you not to call me unless it was important.”
Deion’s grip tightened on the phone as he listened to the assistant. “What the fuck do you mean he didn’t declare for the draft? I have to have the dumbest fucking sons in the world. No, I don’t need you to do anything. If he wants to waste time then let him.”
He hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket.
“Looks like you won’t be needing my services, Deion.” Louie laughed as he ended his call.
“The fuck I won’t. I have four other clients who are going to need a little refining before they go to the combine. Let’s talk numbers and improving this shitty fucking field.” Deion stabbed at the turf with his shoe. “What is this shit? AstroTurf? We aren’t in 2004 here, Louie.”
“That’s premium grade shit. Don’t go talking about my damn field or I’ll charge triple.”
Deion laughed. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. C’mon, let’s hammer out the details. You’ll like these kids. They are driven and all those other compliments people rain on players.”
![[face_thinking]](https://cdn.statically.io/img/www.ignboards.com/styles/ign/ign/smilies/classic/thinking.gif "Thinking [face_thinking]")
