The Jock by J.L. Beck Page 0,79

hall is completely empty.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I head down the stairs. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since… It takes me a minute to think.

Breakfast, yesterday?

I definitely need to get something to eat. That will make me feel better. Less dead. Since people that are alive eat more than once a day.

A few minutes later, I walk into the coffee shop right in the center of campus. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries fills my nose and has my stomach growling again. Luckily, there is no line, which is a first, and I walk right up to the counter.

The barista gives me a friendly smile, but I have a hard time returning it. The corners of my mouth just don’t want to turn up right now.

“A vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin, please.”

“Sure thing,” she replies, gives me the total, and I pay. Moving to the other end of the counter, I look down at my feet, afraid that if I look up, he might be here. It’s doubtful but not a chance I want to take.

I will the barista to hurry up with my order as a group of men come walking in. Not men, football players. Their boisterous voices and laughter carry throughout the small shop, making it hard for me to ignore them.

Please, don’t let him be with them. I silently pray.

“Blair!” Murphy, Cage’s best friend, yells my name, drawing all the attention to me.

I lift my head just as he’s walking over. “I heard about you and Cage.” He frowns. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what it’s like to experience heartbreak since I’m generally the one doing the heartbreaking, but you’re too pretty to be wearing a frown.”

Even in sadness, Murphy still finds a way to flirt.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Disbelief fills his dark eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Blair. I can see how upset you are. Want me to make it better?” A playfulness coats his words, and my lips just briefly lift at the sides. I know he is messing with me, he of all people knows how much Cage meant to me.

“No, thank you. I would rather eat glass.”

He shrugs and goes to check out some chick at the counter.

“Your loss. I will say the silver lining in all of this is that we got rid of Amanda. It was Cage’s idea. He went to the dean, told him about her bullying you, and got her moved.” He grins at me, showing off his perfectly white teeth and the two dimples in his cheeks.

“Of course, it was.”

Even in heartbreak, Cage would be trying to do something that made my life easier.

An earnest expression tugs at his face. “He loves you, Blair. He really does. I’ve never seen him so distraught before.”

“Latte and muffin,” the barista calls and slides my drink across the counter and hands me a bag with my muffin in it.

Saved in the nick of time.

“I guess that makes two of us then,” I say, turning with my items in hand.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” He frowns.

“It does.” I take another step away, needing to escape. “Bye, Murphy.”

Rushing from the coffee shop, I take my coffee and muffin, which I’ve now lost my appetite for and head to class. The tears build in my eyes, but I blink them back. I’m not the first girl to suffer heartache at the hands of Cage Wilder, and I won’t be the last. If only I knew our love would last, maybe I would’ve held onto it a little longer in the beginning.

24

Cage

The sleek silver pen in my hand can’t weigh more than a few ounces, yet it feels like a ten-pound boulder.

“Just sign here, and your transfer will be official,” Coach Willard tells me, anger and disappointment bleeding through every single word.

I’m disappointed in myself as well.

Against my better judgment, I bring the tip of the pen to the dotted line and start signing my name. With every letter added to the paper in blue ink, the emptiness in my chest grows, threatening to swallow me whole, to take away every part of me that makes me… me.

My hand stills. Realization settles that this moment is a crossroad. This is not just a simple signature, a simple act. This is a moment that will determine the rest of my life.

One little action. One signature copied onto the insignificant piece of paper, making it to what could be one of the most significant moments