I shake mine in return. “Joel, I’ve known you since we were kids. Did that really happen? You only played two seasons with our junior team.”
“Oh, it happened. I got one each year.”
“Ah, that’s right.” I click my fingers and point at him with recognition. “That was back when they made sureeveryonewas a winner.” I laugh and push him away before he shoves me again. He crashes into someone entering the room, and I cringe.Damn.I’d normally apologize profusely to the poor girl, and I’m about to, until she lifts her head and I see her face.Could this night get any worse?Unfortunately, the girl now glaring at Joel isn’tjustsomeone. It’s my ex, Nicole. The only person other than Joel who might know what today is. Our eyes lock, but I remain stoic as I wait to see her reaction. She was never good at hiding her emotions. One look will confirm if she’s sympathetic or still holding on to the anger toward me. She holds my stare for a moment, trying to appear nonchalant, before her eyebrows pull in, her eyes flash with darkness, and she walks away.The latter then.
“Great. This will be fun,” Joel says, turning back to me. My best friend and Nicole had been friendly before I dated her but hadn’t exchanged two words with each other since we’d broken up. Even now, the always courteous Joel hadn’t even bothered to say sorry for bumping her. He’s team Dylan all the way.
For the next couple of hours, I’m forced to endure Nicole’s open and excessive flirting with every single guy on my team, and even some that arenot,in fact, single. I’m not jealous of her actions, more pissed off that it had to be today, of all days, and when she flicks her hair and unabashedly giggles at horrible jokes, I want to puke more than anything. I try as best I can to ignore her. She’s free to do whatever she pleases, and I have every intention of minding my business until I overhear her next conversation andlose my shit.
“I really appreciate your support,” she says, her tone laced with false innocence. “I know he’s your teammate, but it’s just so hard to be around him, after what he did to me. I didn’t think he’d be here considering—”
“Enough!” I yell, pushing my way past the brick wall that is one of our linebackers and making it known that I’d been standing behind her. I’m fine with her trash talking me, but I’mnotfine with her airing my personal issues. And that’s exactly what she was about to do.
“What? Did I say something wrong? You hurt me, Dylan. Broke my—”
“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me.Youcheated onme. No, that’s too trivial for what you did. You were a two-timing bitch, and in hindsight, a shitty girlfriend. I dodged a bullet when we broke up.”
Despite the loud music, we garner a lot of attention, and shocked eyes pierce me from every direction. The Dylan they all know doesnotbehave the way they just witnessed.
One face, however, is unperturbed—Joel. In fact, he has the smallest of smirks on his lips. “Drop it. It’s over,” he says to Nicole with his eyebrow raised in challenge.
She pouts and walks away in a huff, dragging my teammate with her. He looks back over his shoulder with an apologetic gaze. I ignore him.
Standing still, I calm my anger and take a deep breath. Movement catches my eye, and I look over in time to see Nate throw his keys my way and point up the stairs. “My room is locked, but you are welcome to use it,” he yells, sympathy in his eyes.
I mouth a quick,“Thank you,”and make my way upstairs, before shutting myself inside, away from the noise.
The room is not at all what I expected of Nate, the obvious reason being the mess. The grey and black comforter and matching sheet are hanging off the end of the bed. Books and papers litter the floor, and his desk chair is unusable with clothes strewn all over. It looks like he’s been ransacked. That’s the best way to describe it. A small smile pulls at my lips at having finally discovered Nate’s flaw. This is information I can use.Maybe tonight won’t be a complete bust.
When my phone starts buzzing with texts from the boys, I throw it across the room, before finding a clean spot and sinking to the floor. Leaning back against Nate’s bed, I will this day to end. I’m not interested in being a part of anyone’s games. I know that I’ve never previously bothered to correct the rumor thatIcheated onher, but I never expected Nicole to give the rumor legs with blatant lies.God, I’m bad at choosing women.
After finding a tennis ball among the chaos of Nate’s floor, I play catch with the wall and try to break out of my funk. The thud of the ball hitting the floor and wall is actually working, and I find my mood increasing with each catch. The door swings open just as the ball rebounds, and the distraction sends it crashing into the lamp beside the bed. I offer Nate an apologetic glance, but he laughs and waves it off. “Beer?” he says, holding one out to me in question.
I shake my head and thank him, this time smiling to reassure him I’m fine. Nate seems to understand because he grabs another ball from his desk and tosses it my way, before shutting the door and leaving me to my pity party for one.
Hours, or maybe minutes, pass with nothing but the reverberating bass from downstairs and the thump of the tennis ball, so when my phone rings, I jump at the new sound. It takes too long to find where I threw it, so I miss the call. When I finally get to it, it pings with a text.Summer.The first contact I’ve received in days.Damn.
Summer: I need a friend. Are you still at the Ball House? I’m coming over.
Sheneeds a friend?Join the club.Does this mean she’s finally going to open up about her panic attack? Probably not. But I’ll take anything I can get. And who knows, maybe helping her through her own shitcouldhelp me forget mine.Maybe.
Me: Yep. Door’s open. I’m in Nate’s room.
It’s not a warm message, but it’s the best I can do.
I once thought that kissing Summer might cause her to avoid me, but no, all was fine in the wake of that moment. Witnessing her panic attack, though?Thatapparently warranted my ghosting. Phone calls unanswered, texts unread. She was obviously embarrassed,for no reason,and the best way to deal was to cut me off. I wish she’d talked to me instead, but until now, I’d heard nothing. Maybe I had ruined everything with that kiss.
That kiss. God, that kiss.While it was only brief and gentle, I felt a connection I’ve never felt before. It gave me a sense of clarity, and yet…it was a complete mind fuck. I could have sworn she felt the connection I did, that she felt the same force pulling us together, but I sensed the moment she regretted it. I’d been ready to tell her I wanted more. Howmuchmore, I didn’t know, just something more,anythingmore. But the second I pulled back and saw her face, Iknew. She didn’t feel the same. We’d be nothing more than friends. She’d been adamant that’s all we were, and yet, I’d kissed her. I’dscrewedup. So, instead of telling her how I felt, I sucked it up and tried to maintain control of the situation. I was not prepared to lose her from my life. I’d give her whatever she wanted. With a quick shake of my head and an innocent smile, I played the kiss off as a joke and all was well. At least, until the panic attack took her from me, anyway.
I’m sitting on the bed staring at the wall when I hear the soft tap on the door. Taking a deep breath, I try to snap out of my shit. Summer needs a friend. She knocks again, louder this time, because I haven’t moved. I’m clearly still affected.Answer the fucking door.I shake out my entire body and jump off the bed. Surprisingly, it helps. Running my hand over my face, as though it will erase the shitty feelings displayed there, I put on a smile and open the door.
“Hey, Sum. Are you okay?” I ask before taking in her appearance and swallowing a lump in my throat. She’s an absolute knockout in black yoga pants and a loose-fitting army green T-shirt that’s slipping off one shoulder, revealing the strap of her black lace bra. Her hair’s pulled up into one of those birds’ nest looking, messy things on top of her head. I can see a bit of makeup on her, but she’s mostly au naturel. Damn, she looks good. My focus pulls to her eyes, and I’m relieved to see they’re clear, not a hint of redness. Her reason for needing me hasn’t brought her to tears.
As I scan the rest of her face, looking for clues, I notice she’s doing the same to me.What can she see?
“I’m fine,” she answers with a shrug of her shoulders, her eyes still holding a questioning gaze. “I just needed cheering up and you’re always good for a laugh.” She relaxes and smiles, and I feel the darkness leaving my body. The anguish and guilt that’s been festering for hours slowly lifts with that one smile.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask, bringing my thoughts back to the conversation.