8. Dating Pool
EIGHT
Avery glaredat her brother as she buttered a bagel. Justin sipped coffee and refused to make eye contact.
“That went well,” he said brightly.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Avie, there’s nothing wrong with it.”
She pointed the butter knife at him until he met her eyes. “Mindy? Justin, Melinda Scheer is my advisor, and she is seven years older than you are.”
“It would be sick if she were seven years younger. This is not the same.”
“Did she know how old you are when she said she’d go out with you?”
“She didn’t card me.” He took another drink.
“And she didn’t hear your last name and think, oh, I have a student with that last name?”
“I don’t know if she?—”
“She teaches at the same school where you’re a student. Is that even legal?”
He caught himself before dropping the mug on the saucer. “It’s not high school. We’re consenting adults, and she doesn’t teach anything adjacent to any class I take. It was a second date, and it was at The Farm, so no one cares. It’s not that big a deal.”
“It’s weird.”
“You’re weird.”
“If I wanted to stoop to my own level of juvenile humor and pouting, I’d have asked Isaac to brunch. You’re supposed to be the wise big brother.”
Justin flicked a sugar packet at her. “You guys got along well.”
“We have a treaty of mutual protection, and a not-date to play laser tag on Wednesday.”
“Can I come?”
“No. We’re plotting your downfall. Isaac wants your job.”
He sat back against the booth and crossed his arms. “What the hell is really wrong? Petty pouting bullshit is not your look, and you are petty as fuck this morning. This isn’t about Mindy. You and Fields got along fine. What happened last night?”
Avery nibbled her bagel, then poked it with her knife. “I had an interest in a person who is clearly not interested in me. But it was stupid of me, so I’m a little annoyed with myself.”
“Someone at the party?” Justin narrowed his eyes, scanning his mental roster.
“Yeah. But I didn’t know he was your teammate before, or I would have asked you and saved myself the trouble of finding out he’s a jerk.”
“Do you want me to know who?”
“Don’t laugh. Cameron Porter.”
He closed his eyes and pressed his palms flat to the table as he sighed.
“Justin?”
“Oh, kid. Damn.”
Their brother called her ‘kid.’
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He didn’t open his eyes. “I’m thinking Cam is a great person who is probably in the worst shape of his life these last few weeks. I’m thinking he’s sort of resetting himself, and when he comes out on the other side, he could be his regular self times three. And honestly, I’m wondering what the hell you see in him right now, because I know you’re not shallow enough to fall for just pretty hair and muscles if he’s being a jerk.”
She flicked the sugar packet back. “You know, if you told me a million years ago that your buddy Cam was an artist, I probably could have put a few things together myself. I didn’t pay attention to all the pictures and TV where I guess they make him take his glasses off.”
“I always forget he’s an art major. He doesn’t talk about it much.”
“He’s an art building hobo. That’s where I see him every day, but we’ve never talked.”
“I guess you talked at the party.”
She looked down. “Not really. He kind of froze me out. But whatever, right? He doesn’t need to chat up a stranger if he doesn’t want to.”
“See, that’s what I mean. It’s not like Cam at all. He was never a party guy, but he’s not rude or even really shy. He’s balling out on game day, but every time I see him at practice or weights, he’s a shell of the guy I knew last year. Jordan leaving fucked him up.”
That was the frustration in his movements when he shook the floors and couches. That was the aura of hurt and pain that circled him like a fog. Her blood warmed a little when she thought she wasn’t wrong about those things after all, and the connection wasn’t entirely in her head.
“At least I can call him by name when I see him around now,” Avery said. “Hopefully, things get better for him.”
“Nothing with Fields, though?”
“We’re besties,” she said. “Sorry not sorry.”
“And you like Cam, even though he’s been a grumpy jerk and won’t talk to you? It doesn’t add up, Avie.”
“I was interested and Cam is obviously not, so I’m going to leave that alone for now.” She leaned forward. “As a matter of fact, maybe you and I should both avoid the art building dating pool for a while.”
“As a matter of fact, no.” He sat back and stretched. “You know, I heard Jordan ran off with an art advisor and they’re living in a desert commune, smoking hash and training coyotes.”
She found a lounge in the adjacent music building to call home during her breaks for a few days, to give herself a little time to recover her dignity. She’d been scared of worse things than Cameron Porter’s mysterious motives, and decided she wouldn’t let him keep her from the one comfortable couch she always found available.
On Wednesday, she approached the lounge and saw him sprawled on his favorite couch, and he was on his feet before she got through the door.
“Avery. I’m so sorry. Hi.”
“What? Hi, Cam.” She tossed her bag on her couch, and he reached for her elbow before she could walk away.
“I’ve been so rude to you, and I’m really sorry.”
His eyes hooked her, and she couldn’t look away.
“Thanks, I guess. I didn’t know who you were before, but my brother tells me you’ve got a lot of reasons to be stressed, so?—”
“Being stressed is no excuse for not using basic manners, but I swear I’d have been a thousand times nicer if I knew you were one of the good guys.” He dropped onto his couch and motioned for her to sit.
“The good guys?”
“Suddenly, everyone wants a piece of me, and it’s not to tell me how great I am. Football is sucking the soul from me this year, and I kind of shut down. I love this game. I don’t know what to do about this part I hate.”
“Justin said it’s been a lot, with the media and P.R. I wouldn’t want to be posed and pestered all the time, either.”
“It’s been classmates, too. Someone wanted a picture with me for their dad the other day, which doesn’t sound like much, but it feels like—I can’t think of it.”
“Momentum,” she whispered. “Like it’s just the beginning of something, and you might just fall in.”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s the word. When I saw you with Fields the other night, it clicked. Two things did. One, obviously, if you’re my buddy’s girlfriend, you’re not one of the soul-suckers. Two, I need to fix how judgmental I’ve become. That was so unfair to you. I bet you weren’t the only person I’ve been rude to. I didn’t realize I was treating anyone so badly.”
Avery’s mind reeled as his words hit her like a rapid-fire checklist of things he planned to say. Isaac’s girlfriend? Did he say girlfriend or friend?
“But Isaac and I?—”
“I’m really sorry. Thanks for hearing me out. Fields is a great guy. He’s like the opposite of my energy. He’s the team puppy.”
“That’s funny you?—”
“Except he can probably crush people’s bones with his bare hands. But he wouldn’t.”
Cam’s smile changed his entire face. It crinkled his right eye more than his left and rounded his cheeks so his glasses moved up with his brows.
She had a moment, finally. A chance. She had to keep him smiling.
“Justin said you’re an art major. What’s the plan?”
“B.F.A. for sculpture. You?”
“I’m going to pick your brain every time I see you. I’m garbage at 3D. My concentration is in drawing.”
“I’m shit at 2D. We can swap brains.”
“Sold.”
Fifteen minutes of class schedule notes and project sketches later, she left the lounge with a warmth in her chest and flushed cheeks, and realized she hadn’t finished correcting him about Isaac.