Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Levi throws his signature leather backpack over his shoulders as we head across campus for lunch. He’s here to escort me like a prisoner in transit. Apparently lunch today is not optional.
He’s a good buddy. Thanks for him.
“How are you, man?” he asks.
“Well, all my favors are dried up, the guys on the floor borderline resent me—”
He winces. “Been there.”
“—And every part of my life that isn’t Sophie is hanging by a thread.”
I convinced twenty-four college dudes to hang twinkly curtain lights down our hallways—because mood lighting is essential—and blow up a billion silver and gold balloons for a masquerade party.
It was a hard sell after we did all that work for the Super Bowl just a week ago.
And Catamelon is this week, so they’ve been putting final touches on the Flooders watermelon catapult.
Thirteen Flooders were swayed by assurances that the whole glorious floor of G1 would come ready to mingle.
I’m sure the fact that Levi and I won over the two best girls on campus gave them hope that they could land a similar outcome.
Convincing the next seven felt like lobbying in DC.
All I can say is I’m glad I’m not going into politics.
Levi convinced the last ten because he’s Levi and the dude is just a real one.
“You’re going to blow her mind,” Levi says. “You have me wondering whether I’m off my game or you’re off your rocker.”
“It’s definitely the latter. I’m surviving on coffee, protein powder, and that time Sophie said she loves me.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh. Yeah. I pulled out the L-word when we were in Dallas.”
“That’s big, man. Congrats. Wow.”
“You gonna tell Kit?” I eye him and go for it. “Hundred percent she loves you back.”
He adjusts his backpack. “I almost did. That’s what the Rose Garden date was for. But I suckered out. Maybe I’m overcorrecting after pushing her so much at the beginning.” But the line between his eyebrows says there’s a lot more to it.
“Whatever you think, buddy. You’re a stud though. No worries that she’ll reciprocate.”
“Thanks for that.” And he’s back to joking. “But you’re killing me, Samwise. Weekly grand gestures? Plus The Game? How are the rest of us supposed to keep up?”
“Dude, Kit’s so into you that people shield their eyes when she looks in your direction.”
He laughs.
“Besides, she hates attention and when you spend money, right? Which is all this kind of stuff.” Yeah, he was joking, but I’m not leaving this alone.
I’m not having the king of the school second-guessing himself on my watch.
“And a dance studio is fifteen or twenty of my gestures. You’re still very much the one to beat. ”
“Thanks, buddy, but I’m more checking in on your sanity.”
“I do worry about the sustainability of all of this.” I rub my neck. “Someday she’s gonna be like ‘Remember what you used to do in college?’”
Levi twists toward me, brows high. “Someday? Like … you want to marry her?”
I nod sheepishly.
“Now who’s the sap?”
“Whoa, whoa. That’s definitely still you, Jeeves.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. Sounds like you’re trying to beat me out for that title too.”
I whack him on the chest, and he whacks me back.
“Have you talked to her about UT yet?”
“I’m not going. I told Coach.” But not Dad. A brick drops into my gut at the mere thought.
“You prayed about it?”
“Course. What gives, dude?”
“Nothing. But tell Sophie.”
“Yeah. I will.”
Eventually. She’s gonna lose it when she finds out I shrugged off the experience of a lifetime. And I have a bad feeling she’ll spiral. It screams commitment, and we haven’t really talked about that.
She might even call the whole thing off.
We push through the Saga doors, and there they are—our girls, on either side of the G1 table, leaning forward, deep in discussion. Levi and I exchange a look. I shrug.
“Kit, I’ve been the absolute worst. I’m so sorry.”
She reaches across the table for my hand. “What? Have not.”
“No, I have been. You don’t assume the worst about me. You never gossip. You never give up on me. You don’t even shut your door. You deserve every good thing you have …”
She shakes her head, all wide eyes and protest.
“… And I just want you to know I see it now. And I’m going to be a better friend from now on, okay?”
She squeezes my hand. “Where is this coming from?”
“Tell you later. And I need your advice. But look who’s here.”
The moment she sees him, her face lights up—like God just created the sun and lit the solar system.
I launch into “You Got It Bad”—and a case of déjà vu.
“Don’t even with me,” she says, eyes still locked across the room. “You are just as far gone.”
We watch as they stroll over, trays in hand. Then they exchange a look and turn back to us in unison—Levi’s brow raised, Austin smirking.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, okay,” I call to them. “Sit down, will you?” I mutter to Kit, “We’re not helping their male egos one bit.”
“No kidding,” she says, sly. “They’ll be intolerable soon.”
Austin
Song of the day
“BEAUTIFUL AS YOU” by Forrest Frank
“Are you real?” she asks.
“Define ‘real.’ I don’t file taxes yet,” I joke.
Sophie runs a finger around my palm, tracing down my fingers.
I can’t kiss her here. I shouldn’t. I brought out a blanket to look at the stars with her.
It’s fine—midnight picnics happen on a college campus.
There’s a steady stream of people walking by, so it should be safe.
And she’s acting a little off—leaning back on her hands, craning toward the sky instead of lying down like usual.
We just came from the masquerade thing. She lit up the whole room, and it was worth every shred of effort. Trouble is, I’m fixing to pass out, and I still owe the guys a full cleanup of the lounge and hallway. It was my idea, after all.
I curl up on my side, resting my head on my arm.
She bends over and squeezes my hand. “Austin … Tonight was …” She swallows hard. “It’s like you undo all the times I was forgotten. You know me and still want me—” Her voice breaks.
My jaw’s tight, but words scrape out. “Of course I want you.” A verse slips out in a mumble.
One of Janie’s favorites. “Clothed with strength and dignity. Laugh without fear of the future.” It’s Sophie.
More every day. I press a kiss to her palm.
Her tiny bracelet slides down with the motion.
I run my thumb over it. “What’s the story here? ”
“I bought it after I got baptized last year. To remember.” She twists it. “No clasp. They welded it on.”
Something floods my chest. A yes. I want my whole life welded to hers. To grow old with her. Laugh-wrinkle old.
She’s The One.
She is, right? I’ve made a real mess if not.
But …
“I have to give up The Game,” I blurt. “Is that okay?”
She glances over. “Of course. What do you mean ‘give it up’?”
“Let the floor have it.”
“Let them. It was incredible.” A playful smile tugs at her lips as she looks down at me. “I want a kiss. Taxpayer or not.”
My heart pounds unhelpfully. “When I drop you off, ’kay?”
“Am I going to get another guerrilla kiss? Or gorilla kiss?” She swings her arms like an ape. “Not sure what that is, but I’d like to try it. Maybe for the next truth-or-dare game.”
I chuckle. “Gorillas.”
“Austin.”
My droopy gaze snaps up.
“Why do you push me away?”
“What? I don’t.”
“You never let me kiss you. And when you do, you stop me with a Conclusion Kiss.”
“Oh.” I nestle into my arm again. “Cause my thoughts scare me.”
“What thoughts?”
“I start thinking about the back of your Jeep,” I slur. “And what you’d say yes to. And how I could justify it. Oh, Soph. I gotta tell you something.”
She rubs my shoulder, my neck. Feels so good. I let my eyes close.
“What is it?”
“Y’know how I played in that league with Dontrell Wayne?”
“Yeah.”
“I did it ’cause my high school coach pushed for it. And my dad’s been paying for legit game tape for me to send to UT.”
“Okay …”
“I’m really back. Coach thinks he could get me a connection. A walk-on spot.”
Her hands go still.
“A maybe spot. Just a chance to prove myself.”
She shakes me gently. “Hey. What were you saying?”
I rub my eyes. “Didn’t wanna tell you. Jeeves said I had to.”
“Austin. Are you transferring?”
“Never. I’m not leaving you.”
Her voice sounds miles away. “Do you want me to go with you? I’ll go with you if you want.”
“No more football.” I feel myself drifting. “Practice all the time. I’d never see you.”
I must have fallen asleep. No idea how much time has passed.
“Soph. Did I freak you out?” Is my voice romantically quiet or half-asleep? “Are you gonna break my heart?”
But I don’t hear the answer.
I don’t get her song of the day sent, but I remember first thing in the morning.
Song of the day
“Make You Cry” by Walker Hayes