Cassie
If you would have told me ten months ago that I would be sitting next to Grayson Anderson, listening to him play a new song, without wanting to strangle him and spit in his eye — I would have told you you were crazy.
Almost a year later, and I can still close my eyes and see him outside of semi-formal last year, talking to Malik, admitting that he had been screwing some girl named Alexis while we’d been dating.
While I’d been falling in love with him.
While I’d been trusting him.
While I’d been thinking about giving myself to him fully.
And once I had, he’d apparently told that girl to kick rocks — but that didn’t change the fact that all the time I was dedicating to him, he was giving to someone else.
He’d cheated on me. He’d broken my heart. And I’d sworn I’d never forgive him.
But here I am, sitting next to him on the bench outside the science building, listening to him strum on his guitar and watching strands of his long hair fall out of the bun at the nape of his neck, into his face.
For the first couple weeks of class, I dutifully ignored him. Unfortunately for me, we were assigned lab partners during week three — which made it impossible to ignore him any further, unless I wanted to fail Genetics.
And I don’t fail anything.
Still, I wasn’t keen on the idea, and only conceded after Professor Drumm said I didn’t have a prayer in changing partners, anyway.
Grayson asked me for forgiveness. He asked me for friendship.
And damn it if that doesn’t hit some super soft bruise inside me that I didn’t even realize existed.
Something I learned from my older sister is that holding onto a grudge, or something that hurt you, is useless. Giving anyone or anything that power only strips you of it and holds you back.
So, when Grayson poured his heart out, trying to get me to understand that he was in a bad place, I listened.
When he told me his parents were already on his ass to change his major back then, at the same time his music career was taking off, I could see the internal struggle he must have been facing.
And when he promised me he never meant to hurt me, and that if he could take it all back, he would — I believed him.
I don’t have to forgive him, and I told him that much. But he asked for a chance for a friendship, and because I don’t know how to stay mad at people who hurt me, I’m giving him one.
Or at least, I’m trying.
“That was really good,” I say when he finishes the last note of the song. “Are you going to record it?”
Grayson sweeps his hair back off his face, something of a grin on his lips. “No more recording for me. I just do it for fun.”
It’s the middle of October, which should mean boots and scarves and pumpkin-spiced lattes — but in South Florida, it just feels like Summer Part Two. It’s fifteen minutes until noon and I’m already sweating, my thighs sticking to the bench we’re sitting on.
“Why? Just because you changed your major doesn’t mean you can’t still focus on your music.”
“It does when I’m already behind in credits, and science might as well be another language to me,” he argues. Then, he nudges me where I sit beside him on the bench. “Unlike you, brainiac.”
“So that’s what happened here — you bribed the professor to be my lab partner so you could pass, huh?”
“Damn it, you caught me.”
Something in my stomach twisted at that, because the last time I caught him, it’d nearly killed me.
Grayson must have noticed the shift in me, because he set his guitar to the side, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee. “I didn’t notice when we were dating just how smart you are,” he says. “But I was so far up my own ass, I guess, that I didn’t really see much at all.”
I nod, because though it didn’t feel like it back then, I look back on the time we dated now and see just how wrapped up I was in him.
It was always me going to his shows, his place, hanging with his friends.
Sure, he came to sorority events after I begged him to, but for the most part, I was happy to lose myself in who he was and not talk about me at all.
With Adam, it’s the complete opposite.
He always builds me up, asks me about my classes, about my dreams. It’s not just the here and now that he’s fascinated with, but who I want to be next year, or in five years, or for the rest of my life.
It’s like he knows he’s going to be there with me, and he’s so sure in that fact that he’s determined to find out where he fits in my picture so he can step into the role fully.
My heart pinches the more I think about him, because as confident as I was at the beginning of the semester about us, something has changed in the last few weeks.
And I have no idea what’s going on with him.
“Yeah, up your ass and probably a few other girls’, too,” I shoot back at Grayson, arching a brow.
He throws his hands up over his heart like he’s been struck. “Ouch. Okay, I deserved that.”
“You deserve a whole hell of a lot more than a jab for what you did.” I shake my head, crossing my legs as my eyes scan the sidewalks for Adam. “You’re just lucky I’m too nice to hand out punishment.”
“I lost you.”
I blink, turning back to him and finding sincerity laced in his gray eyes.
“Trust me,” he whispers. “That was the worst punishment of all.”
I swallow, something low and familiar hitting me deep in my belly at the sight of his pain. For so long, that boy had been everything to me. I’d loved him. I’d touched him and let him touch me, too.
God, is it awful that I’ve sort of missed him?
It’s not that I want to be with him — not at all. Adam is everything I’ve wanted since I first stepped foot on this campus, even if we did have to take the long way around to finally be together.
But I miss talking to Grayson, miss listening to him play, miss the connection we’ve always had so effortlessly.
And I hate losing people.
It’s the worst feeling in the world, in my opinion.
I’d felt it the hardest when I’d lost my childhood best friend, Paris, after she’d betrayed me my freshman year.
And it’d reverberated through me when I’d walked away from Grayson in that courtyard, knowing I’d never forgive him, that what we’d had was lost.
But now here we are, trying to be friends when it all seemed so impossible even a short month ago.
Something about that fills me with hope.
My gut drops again at the more pressing matter on my conscience — which is that I know when I tell Adam that Grayson and I are rekindling a friendship, he will be less than thrilled.
And if there’s one scar I don’t want to reopen, it’s the one that’s still fresh from watching Grayson and Adam at each other’s throats for an entire semester.
Last time the roles had been reversed.
But I have a feeling it won’t matter to Adam that he’s the one who has me now.
He still won’t want to share.
I wanted to tell him after the first day of class, when I realized Grayson was in the same one. But at the time, there was really nothing to tell. We went to a small campus. It wasn’t that weird that I ended up in the same class with my ex.
But once we started talking, once he apologized and asked me if we could try to be friends, I knew I needed to tell Adam — and I planned to.
Except he’s been so distant.
First, it was the concert, and I didn’t want to upset him when he already had so much to focus on.
He had been stressed out that night, and it seemed like he’d been that way ever since.
We haven’t hung out much, and when we have, he’s always on his phone, talking to Jeremy about fraternity stuff or working on his outline for Alpha Sigma Chapter or planning his next big thing — the Halloween bash.
But distractions or not, I have to tell him, and soon — which is why I’m not hiding the fact that I’m sitting with Grayson now as I wait for Adam to come by and meet me for lunch, like he used to do every day after this class.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I don’t have to check it to know it’s him saying he won’t make it.
He’s had some sort of excuse like that for the past couple of weeks, ever since his concert.
I sigh, pulling my phone from my pocket long enough to tell him it’s okay and we’ll catch up later, but my chest is tight as I do so.
Jeremy had let it slip to me that night of the concert that some of the brothers had been giving Adam a hard time about spending so much time with me and not dedicating enough time to the fraternity, and ever since then, he’s pulled back, focusing more on them and less on me.
Which is fine, I remind myself, because we’re together all the time.
I can spare him and let him do his thing as president.
But I can’t help but feel like there’s something else going on, something he won’t tell me…
“You okay?” Grayson asks, nodding toward my death grip on my phone with the open text message still glaring back at me.
I shake my head, finishing my text and shooting it back to Adam before I tuck my phone away again. “I’m fine.”
“Mm. Fine. That’s lady talk for nothing is okay and I’m two seconds away from burning this whole motherfucking campus down.”
I roll my eyes, but a soft smile finds my lips. “I really am fine.”
“Didn’t you say you’re waiting on Adam?” he asks casually, picking up his guitar again. “What time is he coming by?”
“He’s not,” I say, checking my bitter tone as soon as I realize the way I said it. “Uh… he has a fraternity thing I forgot about. Got my days mixed up.”
Grayson holds his guitar in his lap, balancing his arms on the top of it and watching me carefully. “Everything okay with you two?”
At that, I chuckle, pulling the strap of my backpack onto one shoulder and standing. “Not happening, Grayson.”
“What?” he asks, feigning innocence.
“I know we’re trying to be friends again, but you’ll never be the one I lean on when there’s something going on between me and Adam.”
“So there is something.”
I swallow, heart ticking up a notch at the realization that I let that slip.
“I’ll see you Thursday at lab,” I say instead of acknowledging his assessment, and I can tell in his eyes that he doesn’t want me to go, that he wants to know more about everything I’m not saying, but I turn my back on him and start the walk toward the sorority house without another word.
When I get back to my room, Ashlei, Jess, and Skyler are piled in a fluff of blankets in the middle of the floor, their laptops in front of them. They all smile when I walk in, and Skyler scoots over, patting the space next to her.
“Grab your laptop and take a seat, Little,” she says with waggling eyebrows. “It’s time to plan our Halloween costumes.”
Then, Jess hands me a flyer — one confirming what my own boyfriend hadn’t even told me yet.
Alpha Sigma is hosting another Halloween party on the sandbar, and with a live DJ, fireworks show, and open bar sponsored by one of the local clubs, the neon orange flyer promises it will be even bigger and better than last year.
I somehow manage a smile despite the rollercoaster dip of my stomach, and I pull my laptop from my bag, plopping down next to my Big to surf costume ideas as she hands me the open bag of Doritos, taking one before she passes it.
But before I pull up Pinterest, I text Adam.
We need to talk.