Chapter 20 #3
Lydia glanced over her shoulder and gave Grace a long, assessing once-over.
“She has some family stuff going on. Has she said anything to you?”
“Not a lot,” I confessed. “I’m worried, but I don’t want to push her too hard.”
“She hasn’t been herself in a few weeks.
I thought it was because she was so caught up in you,” Lydia admitted.
“I try not to pry about her personal life , but it might be time for you to stop playing it safe. She likes you more than she lets on; I know that much. I don’t think she’ll run if you push for her to open up a bit. Not anymore.”
Lydia’s assurance was all I needed to hear.
After the group was done stretching, I rolled up my mat and sidled over to the long line of treadmills.
Grace was laser-focused on the screen displaying her run time and miles.
When she noticed me hovering next to her she jumped off the belt, planting her feet on either side of the machine.
“Hey,” she said breathlessly as she pulled her headphones down to rest around her neck. “What’s up?”
I looked at the time on the display screen. Forty-five minutes. Grace had been running an eight-minute pace for nearly an hour, and that was on top of the women’s regular morning practice. If she kept pushing herself like this, she was going to faint again.
One problem at a time, Sebastian.
“Can you come over tonight?” Her phone buzzed, and she looked away, her brow furrowing at whatever notification she’d received. “Grace, I have something I want to talk to you about. It’s important.”
She remained focused on her phone, as if I wasn’t there and hadn’t spoken.
I let out a long sigh of irritation and said, “I have to meet with my study group later, and I have a test tomorrow. I won’t be able to see you before the game against Penn State.
Please tell me you’ll stop by tonight, after?
I could come to your place if that’s easier. ”
Grace blinked up at me. “Yeah, of course.”
Even as she agreed, I wondered if she had heard a word I’d spoken.
>> <<
Grace
Twenty-three missed calls. Fifteen from my father. Eight from Sam. And even with them blowing up my phone, I’d never felt so alone. It was part of the reason I was desperate to keep Sebastian away from it all. He was my only escape, a reprieve from the darkness closing in around me on all sides.
“Why aren’t you ready to go?”
Lydia poked her head into the living room.
She was halfway through the process of braiding her hair, arms raised above her head as careful fingers wove the thick sections of waves together.
In the last few days, both of my roommates had started to hover.
I wasn’t blind to their concern, but I didn’t want to talk about my family. Not to them, and not to Sebastian.
“Sebastian wants to hang out tonight.”
“Doesn’t he have his study sessions on Thursday nights?” she asked.
“Yeah, he’s going to come over in a few hours,” I explained.
“Then come out with us for a bit. It’s just a few drinks. We never get to go out on Thirsty Thursday. It will be fun!” Caroline said as she strode into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and cracked open a White Claw.
My gut instinct was to decline, but the alternative was moping around the apartment all evening until Sebastian arrived. Sometimes, his study group ran late. A few hours of drinking might be good for me.
“Fine,” I agreed, peeling myself off the couch. “But I need twenty minutes to look less . . .”
“Unhoused?” Caroline finished for me.
I stuck out my tongue at her before retreating to my bedroom to get ready.
Preparing didn’t take long. In under three minutes, I managed to brush my teeth, pull my hair into a ponytail, apply a clear layer of lip gloss, and throw together an outfit that consisted of jeans and a top that I’d stolen from Sam three months ago.
Five minutes and two tequila shots later, we hurried out of the apartment bundled in our winter coats.
“Where are we going?” I asked, shivering as we were blasted with a particularly frigid gust of wind.
“Remmy’s,” Lydia said. “They have half-off drinks for ladies every Thursday.”
The bar was packed when we arrived, but Lydia managed to claim a tiny table in the back.
I was starting to feel fuzzy around the edges as we pushed our way through the crowd, my pre-game shots finally catching up to me.
Red and green ornaments dangled from the ceiling, and there were multicolored lights strung up along the walls.
As usual, going out with Caroline came with perks.
Just a few minutes after we sat down, the bartender came over with a tray of shots and three cocktails, kissing Caroline on the cheek in greeting.
“Have fun, ladies,” she said in a thick British accent before weaving her way back to the bar.
“Cheers!” Lydia shouted as we clanked our glasses together and downed another round of tequila.
My eyes fluttered closed as the heat of the alcohol burned a path down the back of my throat. For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t preoccupied with thoughts about Gabby. The alcohol had put a stop to my incessant inner ramblings and all at once, I felt light as a feather.
The time passed by in a blur of lively chats and endless fits of laughter.
I was thankful that neither roommate made mention of my recent moodiness.
Lydia eventually gravitated over to the pool table that was crowded with student athletes.
She spent the next half hour hustling a group of lacrosse players while Caroline and I tried desperately to run off a group of middle-aged locals who insisted on buying us another round of shots.
Just a few drinks, Caroline had said . . . yeah, right.
“So, what are you and Sebastian supposed to be talking about tonight?” Caroline shouted, leaning closer so I could hear her over the rowdy group of men at the table next to us.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but he seemed a little agitated when we spoke. What time is it, anyway? I should probably—”
“Oh, shit,” Caroline said, her eyes widening at something over my shoulder.
I turned around, slipping off my barstool in the process and nearly crashing to the ground. The guy next to me held out a steadying hand as my eyes met a pair of burning green embers from across the bar. Oh, shit was right. Sebastian was here, and he looked furious.
“Wait!” I called after him as he turned on the spot and left.
I shoved my way through the throng of people rather ungracefully, stepping on a few too many toes in my desperation to catch up with Sebastian.
A wall of freezing air slammed into me as I stumbled out the front door and onto the sidewalk.
He was already halfway across the street, walking in long, angry strides in the opposite direction.
“Sebastian, wait!” I didn’t even consider looking both ways as I darted after him.
The world spun for a moment before I regained my balance.
“Please, slow down,” I called out, only to crash directly into his back as he came to a sudden stop.
Waves of angry heat poured from his body as he turned to face me.
“Having fun?” he asked in a clipped tone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying my best to sound sober. It was quite hard to achieve after all the drinking we’d done. “I totally lost track of time. I wasn’t planning to stay late, I promise.”
“I told you tonight was important.”
I didn’t know what to say. I could barely remember the details of our conversation at DuLane. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to forget.”
He wore a bitter smile as he said, “I can’t tell half the time if you’re even listening to me.
I don’t ask for a lot. I let you pretend that what we’re doing here isn’t serious, when it obviously is.
I take the scraps that you offer without complaint.
I let you use me as a distraction when you don’t want to think about whatever family shit you’re dealing with.
” Sebastian stopped himself short, and his shoulders sagged inward as he let out a long, low sigh.
“It was just one night, Grace. I wanted one night to have a real conversation.”
My stomach turned sour at the defeat written across his features. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been having a hard time—”
“I don’t want to hear excuses right now,” he cut in. “It’s late, and I have a really important game tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
No. No. No.
“Wait, Sebastian!”
“Go inside. You’ll freeze out here without a coat.”
And then he strode off into the night, disappearing around the block without another word.