Chapter 11
Eleven
“So Howler Girl, huh?” Nola asks from where he's standing beside me, leaning against our kitchen counter.
I watch Peyton make her way across the party, back in my direction. She’s been by my side most of the night until a few girls from the soccer team stole her for their flip-cup team.
“I don’t know,” I answer, which is true. I genuinely don’t.
I take her in from where she’s stopped to talk to Bellamy and Berkley. My eyes trace the way her brown mini-skirt fits her ass, one I’ve been checking out a lot more recently.
She must feel me watching her, because she turns, and I’m met with a wide smile and chocolatey eyes.
Since our pizza night, we’ve been hanging out almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and there’s no denying the pull I feel toward her.
I’ve truly loved discovering all the small things that make Peyton tick, paying attention to the things that make her smile, and cataloging them for later.
I'm really enjoying getting to know her.
“She’s really cool, and she’s…” Nola hesitates for a beat, his eyes finding something before he says, “available.”
His words don’t affect me. I know he’s just looking out, but when I follow his line of vision, I wish I hadn’t.
Jordan and Shay walk in together, hand in hand. And every day I’ve worked to change my mindset on her, on them, goes completely out the window as sadness, want, and anger wash over me.
Fuck, she’s beautiful. Her long blonde hair is straight tonight, and she even has on heels, which is a rare sight.
It’s all for him, I remind myself.
Which is why I’ve been quieter lately with her. Although we still text almost daily, I allow Shay to take the initiative. We’re just friends, after all.
“Can we ban the men’s basketball team from these parties?” I ask my roommate.
“Well, they are our neighbors, but this is our house, so yeah, we can do whatever the fuck we want.” He shrugs.
I shake my head. “Nah, let him come. I need to face this shit.”
“I’m shocked they’re still together. Never would’ve taken Shay for someone who’d put up with a cheater. No one deserves that shit, and she’s way too good for that.”
Wait— What. The. Fuck?
“What do you mean?”
His eyes trace my face, and whatever he finds has his own bulging out. “I just assumed you knew.”
“Knew what?” I practically growl.
He pinches his nose with his fingers before his gaze meets mine again.
“Look, maybe it wasn’t true, but I heard the night you guys won the Frozen Four, when Shay was out in St. Louis with all of us at the game…
” He pauses for a second, like he knows this is going to piss me off even more than I already am.
“Supposedly, Symone saw him leave a party with one of the Zeta girls.”
“And Shay knows about this?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around what he’s telling me.
He nods slowly. “From what I was told, she does. I just assumed you knew.”
I shake my head. “What the actual fuck?”
My nails dig into the palms of my hands. I can’t believe this shit. I need a distraction before I go over there and beat the fuck out of him.
Nola pats me on the chest. “Maybe it was all the gossip mill. Just talk to her next time you guys are in private.”
I nod, agreeing, but so many questions are battling inside my head.
Does she know her worth? Does she understand how much more she deserves than an asshole who makes her question everything? Then my mind jumps back to the club that night, the way she got the phone call from Symone and left in a hurry and how sad she was the next day. Why didn’t she just tell me?
Suddenly, Peyton is in front of us, smiling, and I’m barely taking breaths as I think about what Jordan has put Shay through.
Take away the jealous part of me that wants what he has.
Don’t get me wrong, it pisses that part of me off, but more than that, as her friend, my blood is boiling at the whole revelation.
“Nola, did you find a new partner so you can try to beat me and Mav in pong next round?”
He smiles at Peyton, shaking his head. “Nope, I learned not to press my luck with Mavvy’s competitive ass. And I think you may be just as bad.”
“What are those girls up to over there?” Nola asks Peyton, nodding in the direction of my stepsister and the scheming look on her face as she tells something to Berkley. Apparently, it’s juicy, by the way Berkley’s eyeballs widen.
Peyton shrugs. “No clue.”
“But they were just telling me about karaoke night. They said Maverick on the mic is something I need to see,” Peyton teases, and I try my best to smile. But the thought of karaoke does nothing but make me think of Shay even more.
Other than my ranch, karaoke is the one thing we’ve gotten to do together over the years that Jordan hasn’t tainted.
“It’s nothing to write home about,” I say casually, hiding my true emotions.
Don’t look for them. Keep your eyes on the pretty girl in front of you.
“That’s not what I hear. I guess I’ll just have to come see it for myself.” Peyton wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“He’s mid, at best,” Nola mumbles, and I backhand his chest playfully.
I wave my finger at her. “Well, no Howler Reports about it, because last year, word started getting out toward the end of the semester, and it became a zoo in our sacred karaoke night.”
“Remember, you made me sign in blood, no Howler Reports without your permission,” she jokes, and that brings a genuine smile to my lips.
She pulls out her phone and a frown forms on her face.
“You alright?” I ask, my hand going to her shoulder.
“Oh yeah, sorry. I’m fine...just have two missed calls from my editor. I need to call him back.” She looks around the filled living room looking for an escape.
I take a step forward and nod, reaching out my hand to her. “Come on. My room’s probably the quietest spot.”
I need the reprieve of being in the same room as Shay and Jordan right now anyway.
Peyton places her hand in mine, and I can’t say I hate the feeling.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had an intimate touch that wasn’t purely for sex, and even for that, it’s been a while.
An hour ago, I would’ve reveled in it, but now, I can’t get my mind off of what Nola just told me.
Shay
Why do I feel like I’m somewhere between crying and vomiting tonight’s dinner all over my rarely worn heels.
Maverick grins at Peyton, and I watch on as a beautiful smile takes over her face, and she places her hand in his.
Over the years, I’ve seen Maverick give his attention to many different girls, but something about this feels so different. Jealousy forms in the pit of my stomach, and the doubt of my decisions in regard to my love life is back with a vengeance as Jordan pulls me farther into the party.
The party I almost didn’t come to when he showed up at my place tonight and asked me why I was wearing heels.
No “You look beautiful, Shay.”
Nope, instead the thought of me only being one inch shorter than him instead of four turned him into an insecure asshole.
When he saw how pissed it made me, he changed his tone real quick.
But I’m questioning whether he’s really trying to change or not.
It’s like the second we were both back on campus, he reverted to his old ways, occasionally leaving me just enough breadcrumbs that have me remembering how good things used to be.
But it’s like my eyes are opened now, and I’m seeing every negative thing he does.
And it's those times I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I know it’s the opposite of how Maverick would treat me.
Except it looks like I’m not the only one who’s noticed how amazing he is. And why does it have to be with Peyton? I genuinely like the girl. I should be happy for him; he’s always happy for me. But nothing feels right about this situation anymore.
Jordan greets his teammates and, thankfully, I spot Darby and Symone in the corner of the living room. The party is full of mostly athletes, since we are all back earlier than everyone else for practices.
“Glad y’all finally made it,” Sy says. “I was hoping you were just going to end up coming solo.”
Darby nudges her. “Stop it.”
“I’m sorry, he just gives me the ick now,” she says, snarling her nose in his direction and taking another sip from her red solo cup.
Yeah, me too.
“We saw Maverick earlier; he was looking fine as ever.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.
I saw him too…with his hand intertwined with someone else’s.
What do you expect, Shay?
“Damn, have you been waiting all night for me to get here so you can rag on me?” I ask my best friend.
Her smile drops. “Sorry, babe. I’ll let it go…for now. Blame it on my bitchy captain. I swear, that girl has Big Red beat. I’m so damn sore, I need an Epsom salt bath ASAP.”
I know she’s talking about the crazy captain from her favorite cheerleading movie, but now I’m craving the smell of his favorite cinnamon gum.
“You should come over to the house tomorrow? Let’s all rest and have a girls’ day since neither of us has practice,” Darby says. “I was going to invite Bellamy and Berkley too.”
I wonder if Bellamy knows what’s going on with Maverick and Peyton. Not that I would ever ask her.
“That sounds divine. Can we eat ice cream out of the tub?” Symone asks.
“Of fucking course,” Darbs responds.
“We already have your fave in the freezer.” I smirk at her.
“Moose Tracks?”
“Duh. And I have a sleeve of Chips Ahoy cookies with my name on them.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jordan making his way back over to me.
Without so much as a hello to my two closest friends, he says, “Hey, babe, the guys want to head over to Thomas’s house to smoke. You cool if I go?”
I would normally hesitate, debating whether to tell him I actually do mind, because I thought tonight was about us hanging out, but it hits me that I really don’t care. In fact, I’d rather him leave.
“Yeah, whatever you want.”
He leans down, kissing me on the cheek. “Love you, babe. I’ll text you later.”
And then he’s gone. Still not acknowledging my friends, and I’m standing here, wondering how the hell I let myself get to this point.