Bear
I can’t help but chuckle as Skyler barrels toward me, her entire face covered by a scarf wrapped at least eight times from her neck to her ears. Her arms are crossed tight, brows furrowed as I swing the door to the cafeteria open when she reaches me.
“Gah!” she huffs, still bouncing and rubbing her hands together once she’s inside. “How is it that it was seventy-six degrees yesterday, and then this morning, it’s forty-eight?! I can’t handle this.”
I take my spot in line behind her, savoring the smell of bacon as we shuffle along behind the other students.
It’s been a while since we’ve met for breakfast in the old university cafeteria, but I haven’t spent one-on-one time with Skyler since the semester started, and this was the only time we could both make work this week.
“Psh, Floridian. You wouldn’t last ten minutes in a Pennsylvania winter,” I tease.
She sticks her tongue out at me, swiping a plate from the stack before handing one back to me. “You’re damn right I wouldn’t. Who wants to live in Pennsylvania, anyway?”
At that, I laugh. “Hell if I know. I got out of there as soon as I turned eighteen,” I point out.
And while it wasn’t necessarily because of the weather, it is true that I couldn’t wait to leave that state.
Still, thinking about my little brother living back there makes me miss it.
I wish I could be there for him while he grows up.
But, he has Mac and his family. I’m grateful for that.
“My point, exactly.” Skyler smiles, popping a blueberry muffin onto her tray before we split up, making our way down the buffet line.
Once our plates are piled high with more breakfast than either of us can actually eat, we settle into a small table by the window facing the library.
I watch Skyler take her first bite — mostly because I can tell she hasn’t been eating.
Or sleeping, from the looks of it. Something has been off about her all semester, and after the shit show I heard happened at the Alpha Sigma dance, I knew she needed some Bear time.
Maybe a hug or two, too.
“So, how are you?” I ask once she’s devoured half of her muffin. I keep my eyes on my plate, building a sandwich out of my eggs, bacon, and toast. “I’m still kind of pissed that we haven’t hung out since Rush week.”
Skyler cringes. “I know, I suck and I’m sorry. But I’m good. Counting down the days to Spring Break.” She picks at the wrapper of her muffin, her long, dark hair falling in a curtain around her face. She’s trying to force a smile — one she should know won’t fool me. “You?”
“Cut the shit, Sky.”
Her eyes grow wide, brows bending together like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“I know what happened Friday night… everyone on Greek Row is talking about it. So, are you going to tell me how you are — for real — or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?”
She smiles, making a joke about the last time I tickled her, which ended with her pissing herself. It was hilarious. And though the smile she wears now is smaller than her fake one — at least it’s real.
Skyler chews her lip, and I just take a bite of my sandwich, giving her time to think through what she wants to say.
“Bear, honestly, I’m okay,” she says on a sigh, picking at her muffin wrapper again. “I’m not good and I’m not bad, I’m just okay. That’s all I can really say right now. I love you, and I know you’re here for me, but I just really don’t want to talk about it.”
I’ve heard those words before.
A flash of Erin comes to mind, but I push her away, focusing on Skyler.
“I got involved in something I never should have agreed to, and now I’m paying for it,” she continues, a slight shrug finding her shoulders. “It’s my fault, so it would be stupid to ask for sympathy from anyone. Even you.”
My chest squeezes, my next breath a sort of sigh as I lean back in my seat and force a smile.
Skyler is my best friend, and hearing that she’s hurting and feels like nothing can be done about it kills me — especially since she does everything she can to help her friends when they’re in the same position.
Me included.
“I’m sorry, Sky,” I say after a beat. “I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I know you don’t look like someone who just blew off a guy after using him to get back at an ex,” I say, repeating what I heard happened at the dance with Adam and Kip.
“You look like someone who was on the other end of the break-up, actually.”
She shrugs, her eyes empty. “Well, there’s a lot behind the situation that nobody knows.”
The way her shoulders slump, the gloss of her eyes, the pain creasing her every feature — it’s enough to make me want to convince her to skip school and just let me hold her all day.
Because she’s lying, and we both know it.
“You like him, don’t you?”
She closes her eyes, forcing a swallow.
“All that shit about Adam was bull crap. I know you, and you were over Adam the week after you broke things off.”
Skyler crosses her arms over her chest, sinking down in her seat. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I do like him.”
I sigh. The transfer didn’t seem like a big deal to me — hell, I didn’t want him in Omega Chi at all.
But, after getting to know him at some of the Greek events, I can see why Skyler is into him.
He’s cool, a good balance of both nerd and jock that we don’t see around PSU very much.
And, from what I could tell, he was treating Skyler like she should be treated. He liked her — a lot.
So, if she liked him, too, then what the hell is going on?
“But it doesn’t matter,” Skyler continues, answering my question. “Because Ex is into him and they have a past. And now they’re talking, which was what she wanted from the start. So, whatever, my part is done, I guess.”
I cock a brow, everything clicking into place as she talks.
“So, you were playing him for your Big?” I ask. “Shit, I should have known.”
Erin is desperate for something — anything — to make her feel happy again.
It doesn’t surprise me that she would go for a guy from her past, one who made her feel good.
And using Skyler? That’s a no-brainer. The girl plays poker for a living.
If anyone is going to be a part of an Erin scheme and pull it off, it’s her.
“No one has a better poker face than you,” I muse aloud.
Skyler chuckles, though there’s no humor in the situation.
“Yeah, well, my poker face pretty much goes to shit when I’m around him.
” She shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure he knows I fed him a lie, but he doesn’t know the truth so he won’t call me out completely.
But, then again, he moved on to her pretty quickly,” she points out, her expression turning sour.
“So, maybe that was his plan all along, too.”
Bullshit.
I know dudes, and I know the games they play when they want a chick to want them back. The biggest, easiest target to hit with any girl is her jealousy button.
“I don’t think it’s like that,” I say, washing down another bite of food with a swig of OJ.
“I mean, I don’t know the kid, but I saw him at the auction and the bonfire.
He put himself out there for you and, to me, it seemed like he didn’t give two fucks about what anyone else thought.
Including Erin.” I shrug. “I think he’s just trying to get to you by talking to her now. Does he know about their past?”
Skyler nods, frowning as she considers my point.
“Well, then this is probably his way of calling you on your bluff. You said you wanted Adam all along, and maybe he knows that’s bullshit, so he’s pulling the oldest trick in the book to see if you get jealous.”
She’s still nodding, and I can hear the wheels turning in her head from across the table. “You might be onto something, Bear.”
“I mean, I am a genius,” I tease. “You should know that by now.”
Skyler doesn’t eat much more the rest of breakfast, and I keep the conversation light by talking about my brothers — mostly about how we can’t wait for Spring Break, since we’ve been starved from fun on probation.
I leave out the details of my horrific dating app encounters, knowing I can save those for another time, and though Skyler still seems lost in her own little world when we begin to make our way outside, it doesn’t bother me.
She’s been there for me when I needed her most, and I’m just glad I can return the favor.
“Thanks for asking me to meet this morning, Bear,” she says when we drop our trays by the door. She wraps her scarf around her again, smiling up at me. “I’ve missed you.”
“You know I had to check on my baby sister,” I say. “Just stay away from pledges and maybe we can hang out more. I couldn’t have you cramping my style before.”
She punches me in the shoulder as we push through the doors outside, and even I shiver a little against the cold whip of wind. Florida winters — gotta love the inconsistency.
“Trust me,” she says. “I’m staying away from boys for a while.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I say, laughing. “I have a feeling you and Nerd Boy aren’t done causing drama in Greek world just yet.”
“What’s college without a little drama?”
I smirk, tugging on her wrist until she’s wrapped in my arms. “Just be careful with that heart of yours, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
I squeeze her hard, and she sighs.
“Your hugs are the best.”
“You’re biased.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not right.”
I chuckle, releasing my grip. “Get to class, and text me later. Let me know how everything works out.”
“I will. Love you,” she says, and then she’s pulling her phone out, typing out a text as she bolts across campus.
Tucking my hands in the pockets of my coat, I veer off in the opposite direction, making my way toward my Digital Imaging Fundamentals class. I only make it a few steps before I stop dead in my tracks, just a few feet away from a smirking Becca.
One hand hangs on her hip as she cocks a brow up at me, her eyes playful and wide. I can’t help but return her smile, and my eyes flick to her lips as her first words ride out on a cloud of breath.
“So,” she says. “Did you lose your phone, break it, or just forget how to use it? Because I know you haven’t texted me yet because you haven’t wanted to.”
She’s still smiling, though her neck weaves a little with each word, adding sass to her appraisal of me.
I laugh, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “It’s only been a few days, I didn’t want to seem eager.”
“Mm-hmm,” she muses, brow climbing higher on her forehead. “That was Friday, it’s been five days — almost a week.”
Touché.
She’s right, I have wanted to text her — since the very moment she put her number in my phone next to a little kissy emoji, actually.
Still, something warned me to wait, to give it time, to remember what happened last time I rushed into something without thinking it through.
Sure, Becca is gorgeous — stunning, even — but Shawna was just as hot.
And that girl nearly killed me.
“You’re right,” I say. “I’m—”
“What was that?” she asks, stepping closer with the most adorable little grin. “Could you say it again, a little louder for the people in the back, please?”
For a moment I just stare down at her, a stupid smile locked on my face, and then I laugh, rolling my eyes and repeating my sentiment. “You’re right.”
“Ahh,” she says, inhaling deep like my words are a delicious meal she’s about to devour. “I could get used to that.”
“I’m sure you could,” I muse, smiling. “I’m sorry I didn’t call yet, I just wasn’t sure what to say.”
“How about, ‘Gee, Becca. I sure had a good time the other night. How about you let me take you out on a proper date this weekend?’”
“Since when am I a cowboy from an old western?”
“Just let me live out my fantasy here.”
I laugh, and Becca nudges me, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m serious. Take me on a date. A real one, not one where you use my bar to lick your wounds from a date gone wrong and I foot the tab.”
“Hey, you didn’t even let me try to pay for those.”
“And I told you you could pay me back,” she reminds me. “On a date.”
I nod, hands sliding into my pockets as I smile down at her. I’m pretty sure my face is going to break any second now, my cheeks hurt so much, but I can’t help it. Becca is different — bold and witty, sexy yet classy. On the surface, she’s everything I want in a girl.
So why am I being such a pussy about getting to know her better?
“Okay,” I say after a moment. “Gee, Becca. I sure had a good time the other night.”
She cracks out a laugh at my imitation of her.
“How about you let me take you out on a proper date this weekend?”
“That’s better.”
“How’s my accent?”
“Terrible, but luckily your biceps make up for what you lack in acting skills.”
I laugh again, shaking my head.
“Pick me up at eight on Saturday. There’s this coffee shop by my place that has open mic night.”
“Wow,” I say. “A girl who not only tells me what time to pick her up, but where to take her, too. You make it too easy on me.”
“Apparently, I have to, otherwise I’ll be old and gray by the time you figure out how to use a phone again.” She rolls her eyes, but winks at me playfully. “Now, text me, so I can text back with my address.”
“I will,” I say. “Looking forward to Saturday.”
But she doesn’t move.
“No, I mean, text me right now,” she says, motioning to my pocket. “Because I don’t trust that you actually will.”
I smirk, biting my lower lip as I take out my phone and hold it up for her to see. Then, I slide it open with one thumb, text her a bear emoji, and drop my phone back in my pocket as hers pings with a notification.
Satisfied at the text, she smiles, nodding and adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Alright, then. See you on Saturday, cowboy.”
I watch her walk away, her hips swinging in a natural rhythm. Once she’s around the corner of the library, I finally shake my head, making my way across campus again. I’m going to be late, but I don’t give a fuck — because I have a date. A real date, with a girl who isn’t a psycho off a dating app.
My phone lights up with two back-to-back texts from her a few moments later — one with her address, and the other with one last subtle hint for our date.
- I hate flowers, but I love donuts. Don’t fuck up. -
A girl after my own heart.