Chapter 6 One Perspective
Six
One Perspective
I’d arrived early to chemistry lab, uploaded the write-up I’d finally finished, and was now sitting on a stool next to my workstation, staring at Dallas’s name in my phone. It had been three days since he’d put it in there. I still hadn’t touched it.
Emma had been disgusted, told me to delete it right away.
Priya remained neutral.
I still hadn’t decided what to do.
True to Dallas’s style, he hadn’t pursued me. In fact, I’d barely seen him since the laundry room. So it was up to me. If I wanted to connect with him, I would have to do the connecting.
I turned off the screen and slid the phone into my backpack. I’d checked the dean’s list. Jay was right. Dallas had been on it last semester. Finding his name had also solved a mystery.
His last name was Reynolds. Like the tin-foil. It was a bit disappointing. I was expecting something magical, not kitchen supplies.
As soon as I had his full name, I did what any girl would do—I looked him up on all my social media platforms. Strangely, I came up with nothing.
Everyone was on social media. Even I had accounts, under my new name, of course. I’d deactivated all my others.
I chewed on my bottom lip. Maybe we were more alike than I thought. We were both hiding from something.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a long, lean body enter through the doorway.
Jay.
I hopped off my stool and cornered him at his lab station. “Hi, stranger.”
“Hi.” He unzipped his backpack and got out his work, all while he avoided eye contact with me.
“I’m sorry.” My stomach was in knots.
“For what?” He put his lab notebook on the table, still not looking at me.
“For being mad after class the other day.”
“No big deal.” He glanced at me. “I’ve already forgotten about it.”
“You have?”
“Yeah.” He looked away from me again to fish through the lab drawer.
“Then why haven’t you answered my texts?”
“I’ve been busy getting in some long runs.”
“So we’re cool?”
“Sure.”
For three days I’d missed talking to him. I’d wanted to tell him what had happened with Dallas. I needed his opinion. A guy’s perspective.
“So Dallas asked me to get coffee with him.”
Jay paused and finally stared at me without blinking. “You don’t like coffee.”
“I haven’t completely ruled it out.”
“I’ve never seen you have a cup in my life.”
I shrugged. “You’ve seen me have a shot of espresso.”
“Sure.” His brows melded together. “And if I remember right, you said it tasted like dirt.”
He was right. I hated coffee. That was why energy drinks were my go-to for caffeine. “Well, you can get other things at a coffee shop.”
“Jesus Christ, Ade.” He started rummaging through his backpack. “You don’t see it, do you?”
“I told him no.” My voice grew louder, and I tried to bite it back. “He asked me out, and I said no. Does that make you feel better?”
“Not really.”
“Then I suppose you don’t want to know that he also gave me his number and I’m trying to figure out what to do with it.”
He buried his head in his hands and then dragged his fingers down his face. “Emma told me all about his reputation. He’s not worth it.”
My body tensed.
At that moment, the TA came into the room and whistled for our attention.
I started back to my workstation. At least we were back to talking, Jay and I. Better, but not perfect. Things were still off, because I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why he thought Dallas wasn’t worth the time.
“Ade,” Jay called out.
I spun around.
“The guy’s going to cause you stress, and you already have too much to manage as it is.”
A burn traveled up my throat and into my nose. Nothing could be more horrible than being told you were an anxiety freak show and at risk of making things worse.
I swung back around.
Jay’s observations couldn’t be ignored. He was the only person at school who’d known me last year when the FBI arrested my dad on federal corruption charges and he was immediately terminated, thrusting our family into the spotlight.
Eric, my older brother, who’d played for my dad during all four of his college eligibility years, had no knowledge of or involvement in the scheme, but no matter—his future, like mine, had been wrecked.
First, his name was scratched from a short list of Hobey Baker Award nominees, and then, though he’d been drafted years before, his NHL team refused to give him a contract.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, this past fall, the NCAA came down with sanctions. The worst ones being scholarship reductions and banning the school’s team from Frozen Four tournament appearances for four years even if the team had a good enough record to make it.
Back at my lab station, I went through my things, contemplating Jay’s advice. I didn’t need to be around a person who’d add to my anxiety. I’d listen to Jay and delete Dallas’s number. I’d put it in the trash and not think about it again.