Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
“Congratulations, Adam.” Dr. Salco smiles—maybe the biggest one I’ve ever seen from her. I can see her teeth and everything. “We’re all really pleased to offer you the scholarship, and we know you’re going to be a great addition to the program.”
I hold the envelope with the official award letter. It feels light in my hand. Unbelievable. I was sure after everything that happened that night, there was no way I was getting the money. I don’t even remember half of what I said when I gave my speech.
I obsessed over that thing for weeks, and then I got up there, and it just didn’t matter.
I wasn’t even nervous because I wasn’t there.
Not really. I was a million miles away while standing in front of a group of people who mean next to nothing to me.
I respect them, sure, but they aren’t a part of me like Reagan is.
“I need to apologize to you.” I set the envelope on her desk in case she wants to snatch it back in a moment.
“I lied about being engaged. Reagan is, or she was my girlfriend, but we were never engaged. I asked her to be my date, and well, we thought it would help my chances with the committee if we exaggerated our relationship. She’s a hell of an actress.
” I smile, thinking back to that night of the mixer.
How damn convincing she was. How much I liked it.
“I should have come clean immediately, but I was afraid it would cost me the scholarship.”
“Anything else?”
“All things considered, I should probably tell you to give Janine the money. She played fairly, and she deserves it as much as I do. Maybe more.”
“I was surprised to learn you weren’t engaged, but your relationship status did not sway the committee either way. I’m sorry you felt the need to lie to better your chances. Reagan explained everything when she stopped by yesterday.”
My head snaps up. “Reagan came to see you?”
She smiles. This one is definitely the biggest I’ve ever seen from her.
It even makes her eyes twinkle a little.
“Medical school is hard. It helps to have people who will be there for you. Engaged or not, it’s clear you do.
Anyone who would go to such lengths to help you achieve your dreams is worth keeping around. ” She nods toward the envelope.
I swallow thickly. I do have people like that. A lot of them. Who does Reagan have?
“Please don’t let this leave the room, as I haven’t talked to Janine yet, but I was able to find another scholarship for her. You both deserve to be here, and I’m doing my best to make sure that happens.”
“Thank you.”
Another four years of going head-to-head with Janine—yeah, that sounds about right. I leave Dr. Salco’s office smiling. I did it. I really did it. My chest expands as I breathe in, and relief floods through me. I’m one step closer to getting everything I want.
Or almost everything. I pull out my phone and consider texting Reagan.
A week ago, she would have been the first person I told, and now?
I think it’s highly likely she’d ghost me even if I did reach out.
I have no idea where we stand. I miss her, but I can’t shake that feeling that maybe it isn’t right.
Maybe we are better off ending things now and protecting whatever friendship we can salvage from here.
I don’t want to hurt her—that much I know.
Instead of Reagan, I text my mom and dad. One text, both parents. I’m tired of tiptoeing around their divorce. They promised us that we’d still be a family, and I’m holding them to that. If not for me, for Ginny. But, if I’m honest, mostly for me.
Their responses come almost instantly. Mom hearts my text—she just learned to do that and does it every chance she gets—and says, Congratulations! From my dad, I get the applause emoji and Way to go!
Look at me, bringing people together. I smile, and then it falls. I pocket my phone and head to class, the gloominess I felt earlier slowly creeping back in.
When I’m done for the day, I head back to the apartment. I linger outside of Reagan and Dakota’s door. Texting feels wrong, but I can’t just go over there. And if I knock and Dakota answers, she’s likely to slam the door in my face.
I’m standing there trying to come up with a plan when Rhett opens our door and steps out.
“She isn’t there.”
“Who?” I ask.
He laughs. “Reagan. That is why you’re standing out here creeping in the breezeway, right? Because if you’re standing out here trying to find a new girlfriend, I’ve scoped out our other neighbors, and you won’t do any better.”
Of-fucking-course I won’t do any better. There is no better.
“Where are you going?”
He’s in jeans and a sweater. I think he even combed his hair.
“Going out. You want to come?”
“You’re going out? Why?”
“Carrie and I broke up. For good this time.” He lifts his arms to his sides. “I’m single.”
“It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” I mutter and then ask, “Where are you going?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, I guess it doesn’t.”
Mav drives the three of us to The White House. It’s Valley U’s unofficial basketball house. The place is insane. When you win a national championship, I guess this is what you can expect. Here’s hoping that’s us this year.
There are a lot of people, as is the case any time I’ve ever been here.
The house itself is huge and over-the-top elegance for college guys, but the backyard is where it’s at.
There’s a keg on one side of the yard, and a folding table has been set up as a DJ stand and music pumps.
It should be too cold for swimming, but their giant pool is heated, and some of the bravest are in bikinis and trunks enjoying the water with a drink in hand.
Maverick disappears, mingling as he always does, Mad Dog in hand. Rhett and I fill our cups with beer and slowly weave through the crowd.
“Adam!” someone yells my name, and I look over the crowd until I see Sage heading toward me.
“Hey.” She gives me a side hug and waves at Rhett. “I heard you and Reagan broke up.” She sticks out her bottom lip.
Way to kick a guy when he’s down, Sage. Fuck.
“Guess who else broke up,” Rhett says, bringing the attention off me.
“No way.” Her eyes light up. “Wait until I tell the girls.” She claps and runs off.
When she’s gone, I look to Rhett. “Thanks for that, but I don’t think you know what you just got yourself into. These girls have been circling you for four years.”
“That was the idea.”
I don’t for one second think Rhett is going to turn into the guy who sleeps with puck bunnies. It’s not who he is, but far be it for me to get in the way if he needs to sleep around after dating the same chick for six years.
“What about you? How long until you get back out there?”
I glare at him.
“What? It’s a valid question. Remember Montana? You broke up with her on a Sunday night, and by Monday afternoon, you were dating…” He stares up like he’s trying to remember.
“Barbie,” I say.
He snaps. “That’s it. Barbie.”
“Not the same thing. Reagan’s not the type of girl you just move on from.”
“Have you talked to her at all?”
“Nah. Dakota told me to leave her be. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“That’s Kota talking. She’s hella protective of her girl.”
“Maybe, but Reagan hasn’t reached out.”
“All right, well, you aren’t ready to move on, and you’re not going to talk to Reagan. What’s the plan for tonight?”
“Can’t we just hang out without girls?”
He laughs. “Yeah, we could, but what fun would that be?”
“It’s like I don’t even know you.” I shake my head. “Come on. I’m a hell of a good wingman.”
And I am. It’s easy to focus on Rhett when I have no interest in talking to anyone else here.
It’s weird seeing him flirt with girls. Or attempt to—he’s real rusty.
He’s giving me ‘save me’ eyes while he talks to some chick who ran up to offer her condolences to us on our recently failed relationships.
Rhett being Rhett engaged, and now she’s latched on to him.
“Excuse us,” I say and wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him away. “There’s an emergency. He’s the only man for the job.”
Rhett hurries with me to the other side of the yard. “What’s the emergency?”
“Getting you away from that chick.”
“Thank you.” He grins. “Nice acting skills. I think Reagan rubbed off on you.”
It physically hurts every time I hear her name.
“No problem. If I’m going to be a good wingman, I’m going to need to know what your type is, though.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs one big shoulder. “What’s your type?”
An image of Reagan flashes in my mind. Is that my type? I try to find the common thread between her and other girls I’ve dated. Doesn’t matter. She’s the only one I want back.
“Thinking about Reagan again?” he asks with a grin.
“Maybe.”
“You get this look on your face. Look, I know we’re different, and so any advice I give you is probably falling on deaf ears, but I think you should talk to her.
Get closure or get her back, that part’s up to you, but you’re a real bummer to party with.
” He lifts both hands to his sides. “I’m finally single.
You’ve been razzing me for years so we could pick up chicks together, let’s do it! ”
Shit, he’s right. Many times I’ve wished we could do just this—party and be single at the same time.
“Okay, yeah, let’s fucking do this.”
For the next three hours, I am the life of the party, drinking, chatting to anyone and everyone.
We play beer pong, flip cup. Hell, we even jump in the pool in our boxers.
I don’t even try to fake interest in the girls that blatantly hit on me, but it doesn’t matter.
Tonight is about Rhett and hanging with my best buddy.
Rhett’s giggling like a tween girl as we leave the party to catch a ride. Mav already left. It’s probably the first time ever that Rhett’s stayed out later than him.
“I lost a sock somewhere,” he says.
“Got a phone full of numbers, though.”
“Yeah.” We get in the Uber, and Rhett starts scrolling through his new contacts. “What’s the likelihood I’m going to remember who Pink Shirt Hottie is tomorrow?”