Brazen Girl by Ali Dean Page 0,18

she is. It had me running the other way not so long ago. But she’s so much wiser than most grown-ass women, so much more self-aware, I don’t let myself dwell on it. Hell, she’s got her shit together more than I do. Most of the time. When it comes to us, I still can’t quite accept that ending it was the right thing to do. Even now, knowing she’s thousands of miles away and we won’t see each other for months, I still want to be together. Then maybe I could have stayed on the bed and we could have both enjoyed ourselves…

“But I don’t know how to be just friends. And I haven’t changed my mind about everything else. If anything, with my head all screwed up right now, I can’t handle competitions or social media or keeping us a secret, none of it.”

Not wanting to talk about us, at least not the way things are going, I go for a slight change in subject. “Griff said you’re okay with him making a statement on his social media?”

“Yeah, I got a new phone. Same number but I don’t want the old phone back. It’s got bad juju or something. There’s no social media on this new phone, so he needs to say something for me about the crash and why I’m not repping Brazen.”

“The truth seems to work this time, yeah?”

“Yeah, pretty much just saying I can’t skate right now while I recover, I’m home in Connecticut taking a semester off and I don’t want to do social media because screen time gives me headaches.”

“That should shut down the relationship talk.”

“Hope so.”

I don’t know if anyone’s kept her in the loop on that. Razzle, the one who sent the photo indicating she was following Jordan, is still active with her comments. Bubble seems to have lost interest, but there are plenty of others with unwanted opinions. I wouldn’t say it’s gotten worse since her crash, but considering there haven’t been any pictures of any of us together, it’s surprising people are still talking about it all. Hopefully Griff’s statement will get people to move on.

Sitting back down on my bed, I just want to hear her keep talking. About anything really, I don’t care.

“What are you doing right now?”

“I’m standing outside Phoebe and Wyatt’s apartment building.”

“Really? I figured you were at home, lying in bed. That’s kind of how I picture you all the time now.”

“Beck, are you flirting or are you referring to how bleak my life is these days?”

I laugh. “Definitely just referring to the picture you’ve painted me of your life. I’d rather be picturing you skateboarding.” Or naked, in my bed, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“My parents have been making me get out. Phoebe and Wyatt are about to start classes again. I promised everyone I’d go out with them tonight.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, my parents and Phoebe and Wyatt. They make me go out and be social every day.”

I swallow down the emotion rising. She’s said a lot with those statements. It means she’s not doing awesome. But it also means people are taking care of her, looking out for her.

“What do you guys do when you go out?” She’s never been a partier, and I didn’t get the impression her friends at home were either.

“Well, I’m pretty pathetic so we can’t go to the movies or play games. The options are limited. We basically hang out at their apartment, or at one of their new friends’ places from college. Eat together, talk. We went to see some high school friends play at a bar on New Year’s. They’re in a band, and pretty good. That didn’t go too well for me actually. I’m kind of worried tonight won’t either. So far it’s been small groups, not really a party. But it sounds like this will be a party.”

“You hate parties.”

“I don’t always hate them. Small ones are okay. Sometimes.”

“You don’t have to go,” I remind her, and then bite my lip. I love that her friends are keeping her from sitting alone all day, but I hate the idea of her at a big party without me. Yeah, I can pretend it’s because I’m worried about it being too loud and crazy with her head injury, but I’m sure her friends are keeping an eye on her for that too.

“I know. But I think getting out does help my mood a little, even if it tires me out too. I’ve never been an