he hadn’t heard me. “You know what I mean.” He peered at me, blinking a few times. “You’re going into sports medicine?”
My head moved back an inch. “You know my major?” Or my soon-to-be/I was hoping to declare major.
I lifted a hand to my chest. I’d talked to him about that graduation night. I hadn’t realized he’d actually been listening. He’d seemed focused on removing my shirt.
“My mom told me.”
“Oh.”
There was that then.
“Marcus is sports medicine too. You’re probably going to see him.”
That clicked.
He smiled for the first time tonight. “I don’t want to make things awkward for you.”
Awkward. For me. “How thoughtful of you.”
His smile grew, and he finally crossed to where I sat on the steps.
“Come on.” He motioned for me to stand. “Let’s hug it out.”
He held me to his chest, murmuring in my ear, “You know, it is nice to have you here.”
My throat burned again. He said that like it had just occurred to him.
“Thank you.”
He gave me one more squeeze before he stepped back, offering a crooked grin as he raked a hand through his hair. “I’m glad we had this talk. We should meet up for dinner every now and then. That might be fun.”
Dinner. Every now and then. That might be fun.
I’d come to college thinking I’d be with him, and turned out his plan was that we “should meet up for dinner every now and then.”
This entire talk felt like one giant punch to my face.
“I owe you an apology. Again.”
I heard this as two feet stopped next to me. A large textbook and notebook dropped onto the grass with a muted thud, and I glanced up in time to see a pair of bare legs bend.
I was attempting to study on the east quad’s lawn between two of my classes. It had been a week since school started, and everything was going great. Well, almost everything. My classes were easy so far, but I hadn’t really clicked with anyone I’d met yet. A few of my floormates had ordered pizza and binge-watched Dirty Dancing, The Breakfast Club, and Pitch Perfect the other night. I went. I’d enjoyed a slice of cheese pizza, and I’d been humming “Cups” nonstop ever since, but mostly it had all been…dull.
I was dull.
I didn’t know what my problem with that was. Clarissa and I had been dull in high school. May hadn’t been, but we were, and we were okay with it. But now… The girls on my floor were nice. They were steady, tame. Okay, they were boring. And I should’ve loved hanging out with them. I should’ve←the two operative words.
Instead I almost loathed it.
I’d been leaving during the Barden Bellas’ grand finale when I’d heard laughter coming from the bathroom. Avery had come out, and she wasn’t alone. Shell, Claudia, and two others whose names I still didn’t remember had trailed behind. They all saw me. Avery had waved, giving me a friendly smile, and Shell and one of the other girls did as well. Claudia didn’t. She hadn’t flipped me off or anything; she just didn’t care. Her face had been a mask, and I’d stared a bit longer at her than necessary. Avery noticed, and she’d looked between us as they all headed out. I recognized the backpacks and pre-loaded water bottles, and I guessed they were going to another party. Maybe even another one Caden’s brother was throwing.
They’d left, and I’d turned to go to my room. I’d been planning on going to bed, but I couldn’t deny the feeling inside of me.
I’d wanted to go with them.
I didn’t want to watch The Breakfast Club or Sixteen Candles on my weekends like my floormates and a lot of my freshman classmates seemed to. I didn’t want to order pizza—at least not on a Friday or Saturday night. Maybe during Saturday, when I was hungover after I’d been living it up. That’s what I wanted, but Claudia had stopped me from reaching out.
I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t do anything because of her. Bitch. I’d be stupid to try to enter her world of friends again, not when I was a lowly freshman. So I’d watched them go.
Avery settled in next to me in the grass now, her books ignored at her side. She had a determined look in her eye.
“Claudia,” she said.
“What about her?”
“She has this disorder.”
“Really?”
“It’s called Bitchitis.” Avery’s shoulder lifted up and down in a breath. “She was a bitch to you after we went out that time,