Chapter 30
THIRTY
SUTTON
“ W ell, well, well. Isn’t this a nice surprise.”
I startle, biting back a shriek as a large figure slides into the chair next to me.
“Shh. Don’t you know you’re supposed to be quiet in a library?”
I glare at my friend, swatting at his arm.
“Don’t do that!”
He just grins, the impish look adding boyish charm to his already handsome features.
“What did I do? All I was trying to do was come over here to say hi to my dear friend. It’s not my fault you’re so immersed in your studies that you become completely oblivious to the world around you.”
Jonah shrugs nonchalantly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“What do you want, Jonah?”
It’s been three weeks since the term started at U of M and I finally feel like I’m getting the swing of things.
My classes are busy, but it helps to keep my mind off things.
I was pleasantly surprised when Jonah and I actually had one of our pre-reqs together, especially given the size of the campus and variety of classes offered.
Now, several weeks into the term, I’m wondering if I should have been so excited.
After writing back and forth all summer, it was nice to have a familiar face in a sea of new people.
We obviously don’t get to write letters to each other like we had been, and both of our schedules are way more hectic between classes and the start of hockey season, but he has still gone out of his way to make me feel. . . less alone.
“Come to the game tonight.”
Deadpan, I reply, “Hard pass.”
Turning on the charm, he gives me a flirtatious grin that I just know must have panties melting off his fans right and left when he aims it in their direction.
“ Please come to the game tonight.”
I just raise a brow, silent as I stare back at my friend.
“It would mean a lot to me, you know. . .” His voice trails off wistfully, and I roll my eyes.
“ You know I don’t do hockey, Jonah. We’ve talked about this.”
“Yeah, but you never told me why you don’t do hockey.
I mean, your dad is a coach for Christ sake.
I know you have to enjoy the game, at least a little.
Please come. . . for me. . . .pretty please.
” He bats his eyelashes, lips forming into an exaggerated pout and I can’t help but laugh as I raise my hand to turn his face away.
“Oh my god. You are obnoxious. Why do you want me to go to the game so badly, anyway?”
“It’s my first game on the team. It’s a big deal. And you’re one of my closest friends here. My family can’t make it, they’re still dealing with Luka. Whaddaya say, Farley? Do it for me?”
“Fine.” I grumble, but no sooner had the word formed on my lips, Jonah was already pulling me into a tight bearhug, kissing me on the cheek.
“You won’t regret it.” His grin is hard to resist, and I can’t help the reluctant smile that pulls at my own lips.
I absolutely regret it. The crowd is going bananas and we’re only halfway through the first period.
Jonah caught sight of me almost immediately, having procured a seat for me in the family section rather than the normal area designated for students.
And when his eyes met mine, he threw a cocky grin in my direction, showing off some fancy skate moves to the delight of the crowd, but his eyes never strayed from me.
Now, as I watch the puck make its way from one end of the ice to the other, players chasing after it in a furious and intricate collaboration, I’m fighting back the urge to throw up once more.
So many memories. The sight of the players on the ice, the smell and the chill in the air, the cheering crowd.
My breaths come in a shallow pant, and I fight desperately to blink away the tears that have rushed to the surface.
Oh god. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t -
The sound of the buzzer and excited shouts as people jump up screaming at our goal has me flinching.
Nope, oh shit. I’m gonna be sick.
Without a backwards glance, I stumble past the people seated next to me, rushing up the stairs and into the empty hall searching desperately for the nearest bathroom.
There’s a knock on my door, but I don’t have the energy to get up.
I ignore the sound, hoping like hell that whoever it is will just go away .
My roommate and I don’t have much in common.
She’s very social, always having people swing by to drag her to another party or some other event.
It’s probably just one of her many friends, come to call again.
Another knock.
“Marisela.” I groan, hoping like hell my roommate will get the door so the knocking will stop. “ Marisela. . .”
Another knock.
“Oh, hi there.” Her voice is breathy, flirtatious as the door opens. I can almost picture the grin that must be covering her face, though my back is turned towards her.
“Hi. Uh. . . Is. . . is Sutton around?”
Reluctantly, I roll over in my bed, bringing my blankets with me, and I turn in time to see Jonah’s concerned face as he cranes, looking around my roommate who is blocking most of the doorway. From this angle, I can just make out her frown of confusion as she looks up at Jonah.
Jonah’s never met my roommate, Marisela.
He’s never technically been to my dorm either, though he knows which one I’m staying in since it came up in conversation during our first week here.
I’m not sure how he figured out which room I’m in though.
Or how he got up here, without a key card.
Only residents with a key card, or pre-approved visitors with a guest pass are allowed past the lobby.
“Oh, you don’t need to concern yourself with her. She’s not really your type. I’m available though.” Marisela’s voice is cloyingly sweet, her hand brushing Jonah’s arm.
He frowns, looking down at her hand before not-so-subtly pulling his arm away from her grasp.
“Sorry, but you’re not really my type, either.” His words hold a bit of a bite, and he doesn’t wait for a response before pushing past her into our small room, coming to stand next to me while I continue to lay there, frozen in shock.
“Hey, Baby Girl. I’ve been looking for you.” He frowns, taking me in. “You good?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Just sick or something.” Marisela comes to stand next to us, rolling her eyes at me as she tries to re-capture Jonah’s attention.
But he doesn’t spare her a single glance as he responds. “Do you mind giving us some privacy?”
She huffs, annoyance clouding her features as she throws her long dark hair over her shoulder. “Fine.” Turning on one heel, I track her movements as she hustles to the small desk, grabbing her key card before leaving the room with a slam of the door.
“Oh she’s just a real peach, isn’t she?” Jonah shakes his head with a grimace. It’s a rhetorical question, and he doesn’t bother waiting for a response as he pushes against me. “Scoot over, Farley.”
Confused, I do as he says, shuffling closer to the wall to make a spot. He plops down next to me, back resting along the wall as he reaches for my laptop at the foot of my too-small bed.
Finally, I gather the courage to speak.
“What are you doing here?” My voice croaks, still raspy from being sick to my stomach and the tears that follow.
“What does it look like? I’m taking care of my girl.”
At that, I frown, but he doesn’t let me reply before he continues.
“Look, I saw you leave the game earlier. I don’t know what the hell happened, but clearly I pushed too hard for you to come when you had made it apparent that it was a bad idea. So let me make it up to you. ”
He slides down the wall a bit, legs bent to prop my laptop against his knees, and an arm sneaking beneath my shoulders to bring me close to his side.
“Now, what’s your password?”
I don’t respond, and he sighs, exasperation apparent.
“I’m not trying to steal your information or anything. I just want to turn on a show.”
I didn’t think he was. I’m just genuinely confused why he would choose to be here, with me, when he could be hanging out with any number of other friends.
He turns the now open laptop towards me, but rather than type it in myself, I just tell him the password.
Without another word, he pulls up a streaming service, entering his own information and pulling up a menu which highlights the latest shows and movies.
“Any preference?”
I shake my head, unsure of what is happening right now. Is this real life? I don’t pay attention as he clicks on something, the screen loading before the intro starts to play.
“Have you ever seen Breaking Bad?”
I haven’t. Again, I just shake my head.
“Oh, Farley, you are in for a real treat.”
Getting comfortable, he shifts his arm to wrap around me, readjusting me so that my head lays on his chest while we watch.
“Oh my god!”
I am horrified. Horrified.
“How can you watch this?” We’ve gone through several episodes now, and I have to admit, at first it was captivating enough that I got lost in our mini-marathon .
He just grins, shrugging. A mostly empty pizza box lay at our feet, along with several empty bottles of water and gatorade.
I had only taken a few nibbles, but Jonah just shook his head, insisting that I need to eat more than that.
With reluctance, I forced my way through a single slice, and though I could tell he was still concerned, he just nodded, conceding before handing me a bottle of water instead.
Since then, he has plowed through the remainder of the pizza while we make our way through the show.
“Aw, it’s not so bad. Come on, you have to admit, it has you hooked.” He shifts slightly, nudging me.
“The bathtub, Jonah. The bathtub .” My voice is laced with horror and disgust as I refer to the episode we just finished. That episode.
He grimaces slightly. “Yeah, okay, I admit that was a bit rough. But the rest of it is great, I swear.”
“I cannot believe you made me watch this.” I just shake my head in mock outrage. “You owe me.”
Jonah grins broadly. “What’ll it be, Baby Girl? A rom-com? I can handle that.”
“Oh no you don’t. For that, you owe me something big . You owe me a musical.” I pause. . . thinking long and hard. . . “You owe me. . . Singin’ in the Rain.”
His smile falters.
“What’s ‘Singin’ in the Rain’?”
Ha. I win.