room table that is mostly used to house random stuff we bring home and don’t know what to do with. It’s only cleared off tonight because Rose’s dad came by to visit last weekend, and we did a deep clean on the apartment.
“What happened?” I ask.
Arlo takes a seat with a quiet sigh before physically lifting his left leg and moving it like one would a suitcase. “Last bowl game of the year. I pivoted, and the linebacker kept going straight. Plowed through my knee and tore my ACL in half.”
I cringe. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”
He lifts his shoulders with a casual shrug, though his brow furrows and his eyes pinch at the corners, revealing it matters a little more than he’s letting on. “It’s allowing me a couple of months to have the excuse to be a couch potato. I can’t complain.”
“So, you came from Jersey to attend Brighton?”
His eyes and lips lift with a smile. “I did.”
“Do you miss home?”
He shrugs again, but rather than appearing unsure, he looks somehow confident—brazen with the gesture. “Yeah, but I like living out here. I like that it gets cold at night—even during the summer. And I like all the crazy tree huggers and how chill everyone is.” His shoulders lift again as though snapping him out of his train of thoughts. “What about you? Do you miss Texas?”
I breathe out a laugh. “Every day.” I glance toward the window with the shades we’ve had shut for months to keep the gray weather at bay. “I miss the sun. I miss the heat. I miss my friends.”
“Are you planning to go back?”
I drop my gaze to the cat as it rolls flush against my stomach, stretching its tiny front legs out, and nod. “After I graduate.”
“Well, see? I’m a junior, too, that means we’ve got a full year and some change.” He smiles. “And I could use some help finding out how to break my curse.”
5
Arlo
Olivia blinks back her surprise and then laughs. “Curse as in a hex?”
I stare at her long enough that her smile falls.
“What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you’re superstitious.”
“I’m not superstitious.” Mostly. I don’t mention the socks I haven’t washed in several years that I’ve worn for every game.
“But, you think someone’s cursed you?”
“I know someone’s cursed me.”
Her lips teeter and then fall. “Oh, yeah?” She raises her eyebrows with a silent challenge. “Who?”
“An older lady who owns a shop downtown.”
“What’d you do to her?”
“Aren’t you supposed to presume innocence?”
Her eyes narrow. “I don’t know you well enough.”
“Pretty sure that stipulation isn’t in the Bill of Rights.”
“But it’s in my personal rules of safety and self-preservation.”
“Self-preservation? Worried you’ll fall so hard for me you won’t remember your own name? I’ll admit, it’s happened a time or two.”
Olivia takes a step back and rolls her eyes. “Exhibit A for why I’m asking what you did.”
“The details are a little fuzzy,” I admit.
She stares at me, her teeth clenched with a cringe—likely expecting the worst from me.
“I can’t be held fully accountable. My teammate Ian was the instigator.”
“Tell me you didn’t tease or mock her. I hate jerks.” Her eyes tug down, and her forehead bunches like hope and disappointment are at war.
“No. At least, I don’t think so. From what I can recall, my buddy ran into her.”
The grooves in her brow deepen. “That’s not so bad. Did you guys apologize?”
It’s my turn to cringe. “Well … she may have dropped a large ball because of it.”
“A ball?” She deadpans. “Do you really think I’m that gullible?”
“I’m dead serious. It was even milky white like those ones fortune tellers have, and she swore we’d have bad luck.”
“And you believed her?”
“I didn’t. Not until I got pulled over for having too much mud on my license plate and nearly missed my flight to the last game, and then busted my knee. Since then, my phone was stolen. The replacement came, and the phone wasn’t in the box—which took a week to convince them that they’d messed up. I also had my identity stolen last week, and today I nearly ran over a cat. You tell me, would you believe her?”
Olivia stares at me, her blue eyes making her lashes look even darker. “So, why would you ask me to go find her with you? Shouldn’t you be asking your friend Ian?”
“Well, I would, but his luck hasn’t changed, only mine has, so he doesn’t believe it.”
She scrunches her nose. “And he shouldn’t. Neither should you. I’m