5. Coffee Can Fix It
5
Coffee Can Fix It
Trevor
I slept like shit last night.
When I get to the kitchen for breakfast, I’m in a grumbly mood. Hyla likes to call it my Mr. Grumpy Pants mood because of course she does.
I slide onto a stool at the kitchen counter, and a moment later, a plate of food and a cup of coffee appear in front of me.
I lift my head and find Rae, Aaron, and Miles staring back at me.
“Thanks.”
I take a big bite of the hash browns and eggs. Thank fuck Miles can cook. I mean, I can too, but cooking before school is not high on my list of priorities. For Miles, it’s a point of pride that he can feed everyone. Between a home-cooked breakfast and Aaron’s coffee, I at least stop scowling.
Still, Rae leans over the counter on her elbows with a furrowed brow.
“Everything okay? After how you and Chelsea were last night, I wasn’t expecting a scowl from you this morning.”
I stop with my fork halfway to my mouth. Miles and Aaron lean against the kitchen counter, pretending like they’re not listening intently for what my answer will be.
They love to meddle.
“It ended a little… weird.”
“Weird how?”
“She kinda freaked out and ran off. Wouldn’t even let me walk her out.”
Rae’s lips pull flat, and Aaron’s eyes dart to her.
“Oh,” Rae says softly, which makes me set my fork down with a clatter.
“Why does it seem like you know something I don’t?”
She clears her throat. “I don’t… know anything. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be mine to tell. It would be Chelsea’s.”
Helpful.
“Well, thank you for that clear as mud assessment.”
“Sorry.” She squeezes my hand. “For whatever it’s worth, I don’t think it was about you.”
“I’m trying to convince myself of that. Either way… would you—”
“I’ll check in with her when I get to campus.”
“Thanks.” I finally take another bite, then a long drink of my coffee. “And, uh, if you don’t think it will upset her, will you let her know I’m sorry if I did anything to—I don’t know—make her uncomfortable? I tried… to let her take the lead.”
Rae nods. “Of course. Like I said, I don’t think it was you.” She walks around the counter and pauses next to me, dropping her voice for a moment. “You’re one of the good ones.”
Then she heads upstairs and the guys both try to pretend they don’t want to fawn like mother hens.
I hold a hand up. “I’ll be fine, so go find someone else to fuss over.”
Aaron puts his coffee mug in the sink. “Good. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay before I ditch you.” He smacks my shoulder as he walks by. “I’d put on headphones if you come upstairs in the next few minutes. Oh, and good luck with Coach M this morning.”
And then he’s gone, and it’s only the papa bear of their ridiculous friend group staring at me.
“I’m fine,” I grumble.
“You said that a minute ago, which means I believe it even less now than I did then.”
“I’m a big boy. I can handle rejection.”
He shakes his head. “Maybe, but that’s not what the look on your face is about—or your conversation with Rae.”
“I’m worried about her, okay?”
He stares at me, assessing, then breaks into a smile.
“You’ve got it bad,” he says as he walks away, grinning like an asshole.
“Fuck you very much!” I call after him.
But unfortunately, he isn’t wrong. I don’t know exactly why or what I think happened, but there’s this unsettling drive in me to make sure Chelsea’s okay.
I shouldn’t be worrying about it. It was one night. It’s not my problem.
So why is it that I want it to be my problem?
Throughout my shower, I couldn’t stop thinking about Chelsea. I wish it had been for dirty reasons, but no. I keep fixating on that mixture of fear and anguish in her eyes. I’ve seen that look before. Hyla has worn it more times than she ever should’ve had to thanks to her fucking parents.
The compulsion in me to want to fix that pain in Chelsea is probably not a good thing. We barely know each other, despite our lengthy conversation last night.
I should be focusing on my meeting with Coach M this morning, but since my brain is not in agreement with that, I get in my car with the plan to call Hyla and ask her advice on the drive to campus. In my distracted state, I don’t notice her name flash on my screen until the ringtone blares from my speaker, making me jump and drop my phone.
As I reach down to grab it, I smack my head on the steering wheel.
I’m still cursing as I answer. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Hm. Not high on my list of priorities. I like you too much. Besides, how could I kill you from this far away? Ooh, did an assassin attack you?”
“No, I wasn’t expecting a call, and it gave me a nice jump scare.” I rub the back of my head and turn my car on.
“Are you unfamiliar with the concept of phones? Or me calling you on them? You really shouldn’t be surprised by either, especially not me calling you since you didn’t call your mom or me last night to tell us about your first day. Rude, by the way.”
Of course.
“Well, I got a little distracted when I met my dream girl and spent the night talking with her.”
My phone connects to the Bluetooth in my car so I get full surround sound of Hyla’s high-pitched squeak and her following words. “Details now.”
I chuck my phone on the seat and pull out of my spot in the driveway.
“Only if you promise to give me some advice when you hear how it ends.”
“Uh oh.”
As I drive out of the lakeside development we live in, I give Hyla a rundown of what happened.
“Wow. I’m sorry it ended that way. For both of you. It sounds like she’s struggling with something.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. What I’m not sure about is if I should try to talk to her or see if she’s okay. Or if she would just turn and run the other way if she saw me again.”
“Who would run from your adorable face?” she says teasingly.
“You mock my pain,” I say flatly.
“You said Rae introduced you, right? Odds are you’ll run into her again. Take it as it comes. Definitely don’t hunt her down like a stalker. That would make her run.”
“Even with my pretty face?”
“Fun fact: serial killers can have pretty faces too.”
“Thanks for that.”
I turn onto one of the roads that leads through campus, aiming for the parking lot closest to the athletic building. Since morning practices are over by now and afternoon practices are a while away, it’s a fairly empty lot.
“Do you think I’m ridiculous for still caring about her? For being worried? We barely know each other. Should I just let it go?”
I park my car and lean back in my seat, waiting for Hyla’s answer.
“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t care, Trev. It’s who you are. And it’s how your dad raised you to be. I know you’re afraid of caring too much and getting hurt, but we both know you won’t be able to let this go. You felt a connection to her, and even if it’s fast, that still means something. So don’t be a dumbass and miss out on your chance with the girl who could be my sister-in-law one day. This is important.”
I sigh and shake my head. “Way to make this all about you.”
“Only because if you won’t do it for yourself, you’ll do it for me. Cause you love me.”
I hate that she’s right about that.
“Seriously. Do it for yourself. Don’t second-guess how you feel. If you see her again, it’s okay to check in. Just take it slowly.”
“Pretty solid advice. Maybe you should become a therapist.”
She scoffs. “Please. I’m too much of a mess to handle anyone else’s problems. All you needed was some objectivity. And a kick in the pants—which I am always happy to provide.”
“You’re so generous. Really.”
She laughs. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go now that I’ve done my job.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, how was the rest of your first day?”
“Pretty good. I’m on my way to meet with the baseball coach now.”
“Good. I’m sure however you end up being with the team, it’ll be great for you.”
“Thanks, Hy. And thanks for the advice. You were moderately helpful.”
“Asshole. Oh, and make sure you call your mom later or she’ll be annoyed.”
I pause with my hand near the ignition button. “Don’t tell her about Chelsea.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t get her hopes up.”
“God,” I groan. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“I’m officially shipping you two now. Chelvor? Oh no, that’s a horrible ship name. Trelsea? What’s her last name? I need better ideas.”
“And on that note, goodbye.”
She laughs. “Bye. Love you.”
“Love you too, sis.”
Then I hang up and throw my car door open. I make it a point to call Hyla my sister regularly. It’s the smallest way I have to remind her how important she is to me. She tends to forget she should be important to the people in her life—and herself. No matter how upbeat she sounded on the phone, I know she’s been struggling lately. The last time she was like this, things didn’t end well, and I don’t want her to get to that place again.
As I walk to the athletic building, I put everything else behind me and focus on the present. Baseball. What it has the potential to look like now.
Coach M is waiting for me in his office, and with a bright smile on his face, he looks less like a hard ass this time.
“Matteny, have a seat.”
“Morning, Coach.”
I do as he said and take a seat, but my legs bounce and I’m drumming my thumbs on my thighs because there’s so much nervous energy running through me.
“So, I spent some time yesterday thinking through some options for you. I’m always looking for volunteer coaches to help run practices and work with the players in small groups, but with what you’re studying, it seems like a waste to only have you involved for practices. Plus, I can tell how hungry you are to be involved with the team. I want to give you as much of that as possible.”
My eyes light up, and his smile gets bigger. It’s a shame a coach who cares this much isn’t working at a D1 school where he could make an even bigger difference. Most of my coaches cared about the game, but their players… not so much. My coach called me to scream at me after my snowboarding accident. I know what I did was dumb, but to be so angry you need to call and yell at a kid who’s already broken is pretty shitty.
“One thing I always need help with is logistics. In my position as head coach, I have to handle everything from babysitting student grades and conduct, to budgeting for the team, to staying up to date on all NCAA rules and regulations to make sure the team and coaching staff are abiding by them. That doesn’t even factor in planning out practices and team building opportunities and the behind the scenes of running a team. In the past, sometimes a team captain or assistant coach would take on some of those duties to assist me, but with you here, willing to learn, I’d like to offer you the position of my right-hand man. You’ll help me out and learn plenty about the behind the scenes of college sports and team dynamics. If you’re interested. The only downside is the pay is shit—by which I mean, it’s nothing. I tried to find some room in the budget, but well, if you help me out, you’ll see my problem.”
“That’s fine.” I lean forward. “I don’t need a paycheck. That sounds awesome. And exactly like what I was looking for.”
“Good. And if you’re interested, I’d love to have you as a volunteer coach too. You seem to know your shit when it comes to baseball, and I think you could be a positive influence on the team.”
I set my jaw to keep my mouth from dropping open.
“You know, you’re kind of giving me everything I want. I’m waiting for the inevitable but.”
He chuckles. “Didn’t you hear the part about no pay?”
“I don’t care about the pay at all. I…” I suck in a long breath, letting it all sink in. “Thank you. For all of this. Everything falling apart the way it did… I wasn’t expecting to be able to be so involved again, so I appreciate the chance to have baseball in my life again.”
He gives a slight nod. “I was twenty-three and playing for a minor league team when I blew out my knee. When they told me I was done with baseball, I said no. Just because I couldn’t play didn’t mean I was giving up on the sport I loved. I never want to see anyone else have to either. I’m looking forward to working with you this coming season. I’ll be in touch when we start coordinating practices, because I’d like you there for that too.”
“I’m looking forward to it as well. Thanks, Coach.”
He stands up and I do the same, grabbing my bag from the floor before meeting his gaze and reaching to shake his extended hand.
“Take care.”
“Thanks. You too.”
With that, I leave his office, thoroughly shocked and excited, and hoping it’s a sign for a positive day ahead.
Chelsea
“I don’t want to go to school,” I whine, head resting on Robbie’s kitchen table.
“Oof. I haven’t had to do this with you since you were seven and Brittany Keller told the whole class you smelled like feet.”
I lift my head and glare at him. “Is it necessary to bring that up right now?”
He shrugs. “I’m trying to remember how I got you to go back then.”
“Probably by promising me a new book. Or a brownie sundae.”
“You’ve always been obsessed with both. So… you go and I’ll buy you a new shadow daddy book? Bat boys? Maybe one with a guy who rides a dragon?”
“I can buy myself books now.”
“Okay, I’m out of ideas other than to tell you that you can’t quit school on your second day when you haven’t even been to half of your classes yet.”
My lips pull flat as I stare at him.
I know all this. I know I need to go. But the upbeat energy I had yesterday died an ugly death last night. My stomach still hurts when I look back on it.
Not because Trevor did anything wrong. Because I did.
He followed the signals I gave. I climbed onto his lap. I kissed him. I was about to grind against him when a feeling of complete wrongness washed over me. Shame and guilt mixed together inside me with a hefty dose of discomfort. Then my mind went back to that night, and I realized no matter how badly I wished I could kiss a guy and have fun, I’m not that girl anymore.
Until last night, I hadn’t kissed anyone else or had anyone else’s hands on me since I was raped.
Then I leaped over all the walls I put up to keep myself safe, only to come crashing down on the other side of them.
It was too much. I’m not ready. But even if I was, I wouldn’t have wanted it to be like that. Random hookups were fun in the past, but that was before. Things were different. I was different. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to have sex again, but when I do, I want it to be with someone I trust and respect.
I wish I wouldn’t have gotten so caught up with Trevor last night because he’s a good friend of Rae’s and I’d love to build a friendship with her. Hopefully she doesn’t think I’m crazy after how I ran away from Trevor.
I’m trying not to think about how he might see me now. The connection between us was intense and maybe could’ve led to something more if I’d handled things differently. Instead, I let myself get caught in the rush of chemistry and lust. Now, here I am. Trying to skip school on my second day.
I’m a freaking mess.
“How about this?” Robbie smiles at me. “Get up, get your stuff, and go stop by the coffee place downtown. I’ll put in an order for you. Not to bribe you, but to help give you a good start to your day. Deal?”
I give him a weak smile. “I guess I can do that.”
“It’s all about mindset. And if you can’t get to that place on your own, let some delicious coffee do it for you.”
He makes a good point. I don’t want to get stuck in this mental space. Yesterday was a good day. Last night derailed things. Coffee can totally fix all that. Right?
I have no idea, but I don’t have a choice, so I give Robbie a hug, channel my inner Lorelai Gilmore, and head for the coffee place with the hope coffee can fix me and all my problems.
Okay, maybe Robbie was right.
I’m easily bribed.
But also, coffee is life. Especially when it’s this good.
Plus, I put on one of my favorite playlists and drove to campus with the windows down and music blaring. It’s a simple thing, but it’s always healing for me. Screaming the lyrics while the late summer lake breeze whirls through the window is a soul-soothing, spiritual experience.
Walking across campus, I feel a little more confident again. Calmer, at least.
I’m still jamming to music, and it’s hard not to have a Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist moment and break into a song and dance routine to cut! by Maren Morris and Julia Micheals—which speaks to my soul right now.
I take another drink of my coffee, then look at my phone quickly to double check which building I’m headed to. When I slip it back into my bag and focus in front of me again, I stop short.
Twenty feet away, standing at the edge of a sidewalk near a bench is Trevor Matteny, staring at me hesitantly.
Well, that happened faster than I thought it would.
I don’t know what to say to him. Apologizing feels wrong because I did what was right for me in that moment, even if I wasn’t clear about why—or anything else.
But since it would be rude or downright ridiculous to walk away now, I give a tiny smile and an awkward wave.
Great.
Slowly, he makes his way over to me, like I’m a wild horse and if he moves too fast, he might spook me. Which is probably fair.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.” I pull my earbuds out and tuck them into my purse.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come over to you or not. After last night… I don’t want to push you. If anything I did was too far or too much—”
“Trust me. In this situation, I’m the problem. Not you.”
Those dark eyes flicker with intensity as he takes me in. “Are you okay?”
Talk about a loaded question.
“I am… I’m just… Last night was…” And I’m speaking in half-sentences again. Brilliant. “I’ve just sort of sworn off guys,” I quickly sputter. Which isn’t not true, but it’s also not the smartest thing I could’ve said because if he asks me why…
Trevor’s looking at me, amused, and I wonder if every single thought I’m having is visible on my face.
“I can respect that. My intention coming over here wasn’t to get a date. It was to see if you’re okay.” He runs a hand through that sexily messy hair of his, and I swear a part of me melts. Probably the last of my resolve. His jaw ticks, then he continues. “Okay if I’m honest, I also came over here because I can’t stop thinking about last night—you. I felt a connection between us. I want to get to know you better, even if all you can give me is friendship. But if you’re not interested, that’s okay too.”
I stare at him for a long moment, replaying last night and trying to figure out what I want. If I can trust him. Sarah said he was one of the good ones, and sure, they were young, but if they dated that long she’d know, right?
“Can I ask you a question?”
He bobs his head. “Sure.”
“If I hadn’t stopped us last night, what would’ve happened?”
His eyes narrow and he watches me for a moment like my question is some kind of trick.
“Nothing more than you would’ve wanted to happen.”
“Okay, if I had been up for absolutely anything and you were the one calling the shots, what would’ve happened?”
Again, his hand goes to his floppy curls. “I would’ve kept kissing you.”
“And that’s all?”
“No.” He blows out a sigh. “I probably would’ve pinned you to the couch and deepened that kiss, and if I was really fucking desperate—which I kind of am for you—I might have touched you through your leggings and ground against you a bit. Then we would’ve laughed that off, and I’d have offered for you to spend the night—just to sleep—or walked you to your car.” His cheeks are pink, but his grin comes back. “Where I would’ve pressed you against the door and kissed you again, made sure I got your number, and asked you on a date.”
My eyes widen. Was I expecting him to tell me something more sexual ? Was I reading too much into it? Either way, I wasn’t ready for that level of kissing, but what he described… I think I’d like to get to that place. With him.
“Really?” I breathe.
“I’ve done the hookup scene. It’s not my thing. And nothing about the time I spent with you last night was what I’d do with someone I wanted to sleep with. I don’t sit with a girl all night, play with her hair, and ask her question after question because I want to have sex with her. I wanted to get to know you. Still do. But like I said, that doesn’t have to be as anything other than friends if you don’t want more.”
But… I think I do want more.
He checks the time on his phone and glances across campus.
“I’m not against going on a date with you.” The words fly out of my mouth all at once.
“But you said—”
“I know. And I had sworn off guys. Last night I moved too fast. Faster than I should’ve let myself. But I—you…” I sigh dramatically because this inability to communicate with him thing is really annoying.
He bites his lip and smiles, then moves closer.
“I’d love to take you on a date. No expectations. Let’s see what happens. And if it helps, I promise I won’t even try to kiss you.”
“What?”
“You said you moved too fast last night. If you need to wait on kissing or anything else, I don’t mind taking things slow.”
My mouth falls open. I really wasn’t expecting that . But maybe I should’ve been. He showed me how thoughtful he was last night. That same voice from somewhere deep inside me, the one I kept hearing last night, whispers to me again. Maybe you can trust him. I need to try, at least.
“I… I’m not against kissing.” I’m really not. Especially understanding his intentions now. Though I still need to go at a snail’s pace.
“So, is that a yes to going on a date?”
I don’t bother trying to fight back my smile. “You make it really hard to say no.”
He holds his hands up. “If you want to take some time to think about it—”
“No. I mean yes.” I almost roll my eyes at my ridiculousness. “No. I don’t need time. Yes . My answer is yes. I’ll go on a date with you. But I have a condition.”
And holy freaking hotness, the massive smile on his face somehow brightens the already sunny day. If I’d known I’d get to see that, I would’ve said yes quicker.
“Name it.”
“It has to be a daytime date. But no hiking or secluded picnics.” I pause and bite my lip. I’m not ready to tell him about everything yet. How can I make that more innocuous? “I’m, uh, not much of a nature girl.”
He gives me a funny look. “Okay. I can work with that. How about Saturday? We’ll have a day date. But you better clear your whole day. We’re starting with brunch.”
I cock a brow. When he wants something, he really goes for it. But what fun would it be if I just agreed to it?
“I’ll be free for the day, but we’ll see how brunch goes before I decide if I want more.”
That bright smile turns into a smoldering smirk.
“Perfect. So, can I get your number this time?”
I hold out my hand for his phone and our fingers brush as he gives it to me. That same electric jolt from last night hits me. I’m probably giving him emotional whiplash at this point.
I type in my name into the contact info and add a roller coaster emoji at the end, since that’s what he can expect from me.
The second the phone is back in his hand, he types something out, then my phone goes off.
With my eyes locked on him, I pull it out of my bag.
Unknown number: Hi.
He shrugs. “Had to make sure you didn’t give me a fake number. That might really bruise my ego.”
With those words and his adorable cheeky grin, he has me smiling and feeling upbeat again.
“I have to get to class soon, but where are you headed?”
“The humanities building.”
“Can I walk you there?”
My breath catches. When was the last time a guy offered to walk me to class? Junior year of high school? He’s so endearing it doesn’t seem real. And that’s when I have to shove away the thoughts in the back of my mind that he’s messing with me or going to hurt me. My gut says to trust him, and that’s what I’m going with.
“I’d love that. Thanks.”
Then he does the last thing I’m expecting and pulls my books from my arms, carrying them for me. He’s carrying my books. Last night I told him my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. Now it feels like it’s going to burst from how sweet he is.
We walk toward the humanities building, which isn’t too far, and my mind replays that entire interaction as well as reminding me how I behaved last night.
Trevor must notice the slight shift in my demeanor, because his gaze burns into me.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I meet his almost black eyes and hold his gaze for a second.
“Yeah. I’m just… surprised.”
“By what?”
“You.” I shake my head. “A lot of things. And…”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t ask me why.”
“Why what?”
“Why I ran off the way I did last night.”
He glances at me. “You said you’d sworn off guys.”
“Yeah, but—”
He stops and turns toward me. “Do you want to tell me?”
My voice is quiet when I answer. “Not really.”
He shifts his backpack on his shoulder, looking a little sheepish. “I assumed if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me. If you ever want to talk about whatever it is, I’m here to listen.”
And just like that, more of my uncertainties melt away.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” We start walking again, then he nervously looks at me. “Can I put my hand on your back?”
I let out a whoosh of air and try to keep tears from cresting in my eyes. He’s asking for consent to touch me in a gentlemanly way.
“It’s okay if not,” he says quickly.
“No. It’s fine. I’d like that.”
He moves slowly, his fingers brushing my low back before his hand comes to rest there. I lean into the touch and smile up at him.
After what happened last night, I couldn’t have imagined this. I figured if I saw him again it would be awkward or maybe he’d even avoid me. But he keeps surprising me. And now we have a date planned for Saturday.
How to get a date with the cute boy you’re crushing on? Talk with him for hours, flirt with him, kiss him, absolutely panic, run away, and have zero intention of ever seeing him again.
Chelsea’s Dating Handbook. Coming soon.
We continue our walk in a comfortable silence, and it only takes us a couple of minutes to get to my building.
When we walk in, the lecture hall is the first door on the left, and I notice Rae leaning against the wall, tapping on her phone.
When she looks up and sees us, she smiles brightly.
Trevor grumbles as Rae puts her phone away and strides over to us.
She opens her mouth to say something, but Trevor pins her with a look. “Don’t.” When I look at him in surprise, he narrows his eyes. “She meddles.”
I laugh at that. “From what I saw last night, all of you meddle.”
“Hey, she’s got us figured out already.”
Trevor cuts another look in her direction, then takes my arm and guides me a few feet away. “I’ll text you later? Can I pick you up on Saturday?”
“Yes and yes. Can’t wait.”
His body relaxes and he gets an adorable aw-shucks look on his face. “Me either. Uh… can I kiss you on the cheek?”
The enamored look in his eyes is so genuine it hurts.
“Yes,” I squeak, stomach whirling. My cheeks are red hot, but I don’t care.
And when his lips press against my hot skin, my heart beats erratically, and that same tingly feeling I got yesterday shoots through my body. In a lot of ways, I’m terrified, but I want to see where this can go.
With his lips right by my ear, he whispers, “Have a good day. Text me if you want to talk or meet up. Anything.”
I reach out and squeeze his hand. “You have a good day too. We’ll talk soon.”
And what is that sultry lilt in my voice? Who am I?
I’m Chelsea Winters, and I want to enjoy every second of this. Falling for him. Because I already know that’s what I’m doing.
He hands me back my books, and with a lingering look, walks away.
I watch him go and literally fan myself because that whole interaction left me overheated and overstimulated—both in the best ways.
“Well, seems like things are good between you two.”
I turn to look at Rae, who is smiling mischievously.
“Oh boy, he’s right. You do meddle.”
“No meddling. He asked me to check on you, but it seems he got to you first.”
I look back at the door he walked out of. “Am I totally insane for feeling all swoony and cotton-candy brained over him?”
She laughs. “Nope. I still feel that way.”
“And who makes you feel like that?”
We both turn at the sound of Aaron’s voice.
Rae shrugs. “Eh. Just this sexy guy I know.”
“Where is he? I’ll fight him.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You two are adorable. And kinda gross.”
They both shrug.
“It’s our thing,” Aaron says.
“Do you two have a lot of classes together?” I ask when I realize he’s heading to the classroom with us.
“Yeah. Aaron’s studying to be a school counselor, so we have the same core classes and try to schedule them together. Way better when you can do a group project with someone you like and trust.”
I smile at that. “That’s sweet. And it must be nice having a built-in friend in class with you.”
She loops her arm through mine. “Now you do too.”
Transferring here, I had hopes for what could happen, but kept my expectations low. It wasn’t on my bingo card that I’d make a new friend—who comes with plenty more—and meet the sweetest marshmallow of a guy, even if he seems a little growly and grumbly on the outside.
The cynical, untrusting side of me says it’s too good to be true, but I actively shut that shit down, beating it to death with positivity because these are good things.
Good things.
Things I deserve.