Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,53

over this again? You know I’m going to win.”

“That’s what you’d like to think.” She pats me on the shoulder in passing. “Fine, but I’m leaving in two. So better hustle.”

I shake my head at her, but do as she says. Just a few guys are still sitting at our table when I get there. Prescott lifts his eyebrows when he sees me coming, then his eyes fall over my shoulder, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m leaving,” I say, already grabbing my things.

“Yeah, I can see you found yourself something better to do tonight.”

“It’s not like that,” I protest, because really it isn’t. Yasmin and I… we’re complicated. But we definitely aren’t like that. Not that I wouldn’t be game if she said the word.

“Yeah, sure.”

I don’t bother correcting him again. Let the fucker think what he wants.

Quickly grabbing my things, I shove them into my backpack, pull on my jacket and with one final wave of my hand, I’m already on my way.

“So what are my stats—” I’m about to call her coach, but bite my tongue at the last second.

“Late,” she throws over her shoulder, already walking outside.

“Oh, come on! You didn’t even check.”

“Don’t need to know how slow your ass is. I bet I could outrun you any day of the week.”

I start a moderate jog to catch up with her. “Is that a challenge I hear, Hernandez? ‘Cause you say the word and I’m ready to show you how wrong you are.”

“Promises, promises.”

For a while we walk in silence. There are three different libraries on campus but only one is open twenty-four seven and that one’s the farthest away from Yasmin’s dorm.

“How did you even find me?” Yasmin finally asks. “I don’t think anybody knows about that nook, or if they do, they don’t like it since it’s empty whenever I come.”

The reason behind my impromptu tour of the library comes back to me in a flash, my mood turning sour. “Jade called, so I hid to take the call.”

Yasmin gives me a knowing smile. “How is she?”

I thought it would be hard to share what’s going on in my life with my friends, but with Yasmin, it’s almost effortless. I want to tell her about what happened. I want to share my worries and see what she thinks because I know she’ll actually try and understand.

“As well as she can be. She took Mom to her latest doctor’s appointment.”

“And?”

There is hope in her voice, and I hate to be the one to crush it. Yasmin seemed genuinely happy when she was talking with Mom and Jade that day in the kitchen.

“Declining, but at least she’s not in a lot of pain. Or so she tries to reassure us.”

“There is really nothing doctors can do?”

I tilt my head back. The sky is dark, with only a few stars strong enough to shine their way through the darkness.

My breath turns foggy as I exhale. “She did try chemo for a while, just after they diagnosed her, but it wasn’t helping. At this point, the tumor’s spread to other organs, and there’s little they can do. She could keep going to treatments—hell, I want her to, I want her to fight, dammit—but the reality is, they wouldn’t help, and she wants to be home, with us.”

Yasmin’s hand grips mine in a fierce hold. I look down at her and find her tear-filled eyes looking at me. The space around us is charged with so much emotion; it’s hard to breathe.

I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat, concentrating on that one point of contact and letting go of everything else.

“You’re a good son, Nixon.”

“A good son?” A bitter laugh escapes me. There is nothing good about me. “A good son would have taken a break for a year to stay with his family. A good brother wouldn’t let his little sister take the better part of the weight that is taking care of our sick mother on her shoulders.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I stop her with a shake of my head. I need her to understand this, to understand me. “I’m not good, Yasmin. I’m a selfish bastard that feels relieved when he leaves for campus because I know that for the next week I won’t have to breathe in the smell of antiseptic and dying. I breathe out in relief because for the next few days I won’t have to see the woman who gave me life, gave me everything, wither