CHAPTER SEVEN
SONYA
“Hey, Sunny! How was your day?” Bekah asks when I step inside and head for the living room, where she’s curled up in the armchair in the corner, a book resting in her lap. All six feet and four inches of Dylan’s body takes up our caramel-colored sectional.
“This one didn’t tell you?” I ask, pointing to Dylan, who digs my cell phone out of his sweatpants pocket and holds it up for me to take.
“Aside from that,” she says, but her focus isn’t on me. It’s on Dylan, and the yellow case on my phone. “Dylan, how did you get that confused? That is yellow.”
“Your point? It was five in the morning, Beks, and the scheduling got fucked up again . I was half asleep and rushing,” he says, running his fingers through his thick, dark brown hair. His brown eyes find their way over to me when all Bekah does is hum in response. “How late were you?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows when I move into the kitchen to set my bag down.
“It wasn’t so bad. Just awkward,” I say while opening the dishwasher to pull out my water bottle, stepping toward the fridge to fill it up. “What are you doing over here? You do realize you have a house, right?” I ask and point directly behind me. “It’s right there.”
Unlike the rest of us, Dylan initially opted for off-campus housing. He lucked out and hit it off with Fitz and Campbell, two of his teammates whom he had already met playing in the World Juniors. A shocker to all of us, considering they were the competition, but it turned into a friendly ribbing. Usually at Dylan’s expense since Canada kicked his team’s ass.
“Yeah, but you love my company.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” I tease, stopping to dig his phone out of the bottom of my bag before joining him on the couch.
“You’re being mean today.”
“Yeah, well, you and your stupid phone made me late,” I say, resting his phone on his chest before pulling my feet up to tuck under his leg. “If you want to make it up to me, there is something you can do.”
He doesn’t hesitate to say, “Name it.”
“We got an exciting assignment brief for my coding class today, potentially leading to a huge opportunity if I get selected. The athletics department is going to develop an app for Millboro’s sports, and we get to pitch our designs,” I explain, excitement bubbling up in my chest all over again. “They are going to pick one of us to be part of the team building it.”
Something about technology has always excited me. Even when I was little and didn’t fully understand the lengths it could go to help people, it was like a string had been wrapped around me. When I had my first computer science class in middle school, my interest only grew until I eventually read every article on technological advancements and begged for extra hours in the computer lab at school. I wanted to soak up every ounce of knowledge humanly possible, and now that I’m here—in a program no one thought I’d make it into and succeed—I’m even more determined to prove them wrong.
“That must have been the email Fitz was talking about earlier,” Dylan says, finally grabbing his phone off his chest.
“Email?” I ask, leaning towards him. “What email? What did it say?”
“I don’t know, Sunny. You had my phone, remember?”
“Well, look!” I say, patting his leg excitedly.
He laughs at my eagerness and sits up. “Patience, woman.”
“Do not woman me.”
He holds up one hand in surrender and scrolls with the other, searching for the email in his inbox. “Tell us more about this app. What is it you’re doing?”
“They gave us a list of features they want included, but my class is designing the player profile for the hockey team,” I say, nudging his side. “That’s probably what the email is about now that I think of it. Your coach volunteered your services.”
Dylan rolls his eyes. “Of course, he did.”
“Kind of sucks you have to do it on the hockey team, though,” Bekah says, looking up from her book to shoot Dylan a teasing glance.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Dylan asks, finally finding the email and passing me his phone. “You know your best friend here said Fitz is her favorite player last night. What do you think about that, Beks?”
I shoot a look at Bekah, rolling my eyes. “Why are we friends with him again?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one that almost slept with him,” Bekah says, winking at me when my lips part in surprise. Despite how long it’s been since the failed hook-up, I fear I may never live it down.
“Really? You too?”
She shrugs. “Shouldn’t have said Fitz is your favorite.”
I shake my head at her absolute refusal to accept any hockey player aside from Dylan, and even that took some real convincing. “What does the email say?” Dylan questions.
“Just filling you in on the project and that you’re going to be assigned to some of us to do profiles on you,” I share before passing him his phone back. “You’ll make sure I get someone good, right? Sweet talk Coach Shay?” I ask, a hopeful smile painting my face.
“I think you misunderstand what Coach is willing to be sweet talked into.” His laugh fills the living room as he falls back into the couch cushions again. “The man is a complete hard-ass, and I’m certain he hates me, but I’m sure whoever gets assigned to you will switch with me.”
“Who said I wanted you? I was going to ask if you’d get him to assign Campbell and Fitz to me.”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re joking,” he says, waiting for the punchline to hit before his expression grows serious. “Sunny, tell me you’re joking.”
“Why would I joke about this?” I ask, biting on my bottom lip to keep from smiling. “This is very serious, Dylan. I want the best.”
“I am the best.”
“Not when it comes to this.”
“Sunny, you’re not funny.”
Unable to help myself, a giggle slips out at the twisted look on his face. “I am a little though, aren’t I?” I ask, reaching over to pinch his cheek. “I will settle for whoever I get. Just tell your teammates to behave. I want this to go as smoothly as possible.”
“And you don’t think I can behave?”
“No,” Bekah answers before I can. Her book now tucked under her thigh. “How do you feel about your chances?”
“Good, I think,” I share and slip my fingers into my hair after unclipping it, running my fingers along my scalp.
I’m not na?ve enough to think this opportunity will be easy. It wouldn’t be as big as it is if it was. I am going to be working my ass off for the small chance I might get picked. Every step will be a challenge, but I’m not about to let the fear of failing keep me from even trying.
“It’s not going to be simple, that’s for sure. Professor Andrews isn’t going to let it be, but a little hard work isn’t going to scare me off,” I tell them, hope blooming in my chest. I spent my entire high school career proving to my college advisor and myself that I could do this. He didn’t believe I could, thought I was playing a losing game, and I’ve been proving him wrong at every corner. This isn’t going to be any different.
Bekah's hazel eyes are bright when they meet mine. “You’re going to kickass.”
“Who’s kicking ass?”
I turn my head at the sound of Reid’s voice as he comes in through the front door, bag slung over his shoulder, paper coffee cup in hand, and book tucked under his arm. “Me,” I answer his question, leaning my head back. “My class is competing to have our app pitches selected for the university’s athletics department.”
“Starting with the best sport of all,” Dylan adds on.
“I don’t know about that. Those baseball players wear their pants well,” Bekah says, glee in her eyes knowing she’s bugging Dylan in the process.
He rolls his eyes. “You clearly haven’t been taking a very good look at my ass, Beks.”
“You wish.”
“I don’t need to wish, I know,” he says, pushing my legs off his to stand up. He’s in the process of turning around to show Bekah the evidence when Reid draws my attention.
“Is everything okay with Walker?”
My interest is instantly piqued, turning in my spot to look at him. “He seemed fine when I talked to him. Why?”
He shrugs, setting his bag down on the kitchen counter next to mine before turning to lean back with his arms crossed over his chest. “He seemed a little off, that’s all. Was asking me if you were okay.”
A seed of hope flares in my chest, like he just laid it out on a silver platter. The growth was immediately cut off by Dylan doing what he does best and bursting my bubble. “He’s probably just making sure she’s okay after turning her down when she asked him to fuck her.”
I feel my cheeks warm under both Reid and Bekah’s surprised gaze.
“Idiot move going to the friend if you ask me, should be going to someone unattached,” Dylan continues, not realizing he’s just spilling my secrets around.
“I’m sorry,” Bekah says, her book falling when she lets her feet drop to the floor. “You did what?”
“Seconded.” Reid points and rounds the couch, sitting on the arm of her chair. “What did you do, Sunny?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t say that like an accusation. I didn’t do anything.”
“Except ask Walker to fuck you.”
I narrow my eyes in Dylan’s direction. “Are you trying to get punched? First, you steal my phone, and now this? It’s like you want me to hate you.”
“You love me too much to hate me.”
“Both of you, shut up!” Bekah squeaks. “Sonya, what happened?”
“It’s not—”
“I swear if you say it’s not a big deal, I’m going to hurt you,” she cuts me off before I can say exactly that. I’ve been trying to play it off like his rejection doesn’t bother me, and truthfully, it doesn’t—for the most part. He had every right to say no, but it doesn’t stop a very tiny part of me from aching at being turned down after putting myself out there.
“I asked him to have sex with me, and he said no…” I trail off, stopping myself from saying anything else. I don’t know what else there is to say. “End of story.”
“No, not end of story.” She shakes her head. “Very much beginning of story. Where the hell did this come from? I didn’t even know you felt that way about him. I know we tease you, but I wouldn't have if I knew you actually liked him that way.”
“I don’t like him like that. Walker’s my friend.”
“She just wanted him to also be her naked friend,” Dylan adds.
“I am two seconds from punching you,” I tell him, pressing my lips together while taking in the pensive look on Reid’s face. “Okay, you clearly have something to say.”
Reid’s shoulders drop as he sits up straighter. “It’s none of my business.”
“Then make it your business. What are you thinking?”
“I’m just surprised he said no,” he says, running his hand down the denim covering his legs. “We may tease you, but there’s something there. He doesn’t say no to you ever .”
“That’s not true.”
Bekah scrunches up her nose. “It’s kind of true.”
“Yeah, well, he did this time, and that’s totally okay. He’s allowed to say no. I was just in my head, overthinking what you guys said, and realized how long it’s been, so I threw it out there. Not a big deal. We’re just going to forget about it.”
“You seem upset, Sunny,” Reid says, meeting my eyes.
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
Okay, maybe I am a little, but I can’t look too closely at that right now.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop making the boyfriend comments, though, especially around Walker. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable,” I add.
All three nod, settling the pit in my stomach. Even if my feelings were hurt by Walker’s rejection, I would get over it. I meant it when I told Walker we’re good. We are good. It would take a lot for me to be upset with him, and it certainly will never be over a boundary.
I can’t fault him for not wanting the same thing as me. I just need to slap a Band-Aid on it and move forward.