Chapter 29 #2
I was hungry. And still angry. And the best way to get over that was carbs and sugar.
I was enjoying stacked waffles with bacon, maple syrup, and strawberries when my phone pinged. Hoping it was Mason, I felt irrationally guilty when I saw it was Noah and a thrill of excitement ran through me.
Noah: Haven’t heard from you. All okay?
No. It wasn’t.
Noah: I know you’re reading my texts. Can you be the adult you tell me you are and answer?
I gave my phone the finger.
Noah: Mature
What?
I looked up and around. He and Dante were across the street. Both were wearing sunglasses; only one was facing this way.
“Shit.”
I picked up my phone.
Me: I’m eating. Go away.
Me: Also, stalking is so lame
I looked out of the corner of my eye as I took a huge bite of waffle and bacon. Pretending I couldn’t see him.
He read my text, hit Dante on the arm, and the two of them walked away from where I was.
I carried on eating, refusing to acknowledge that my mood had lifted. I took a drink of my iced tea. Maybe I’d overreacted this morning.
Hadley, Noah, and my brother were in a clique. Was it really that much of a stretch to believe it? One was eager, one was determined, and one was volatile. Which one was which depended on the hour.
After brunch, I went for a walk to work off the amount of food I’d managed to pack away. I like walking. It clears my head. My thoughts are always more focused after a good walk. My feet did the thinking, and I embraced it.
Halfway home, I texted my brother.
Me: Just don’t do something stupid. They’re students. There could be repercussions for this.
He finally answered.
Mason: I’m hardly going to name and shame them, Bri. I’m not a fucking asshole.
Me: You’ve ignored me all morning. You ARE a fucking asshole.
Mason: Boo hoo. You fucked the STUDENT? What repercussions are there for THAT?
Ugh, I resented that he knew this. He would never let me live this down. I called him. Surprise, surprise, he answered.
“Big sister.”
“Asshat.”
His low chuckle made me smile. “What were you thinking?” I asked him as I walked.
“He was all full of fire and fierceness, what can I say? Your boy toy talked sense.”
I was already shaking my head. “No. Nuh-uh. Not calling him ‘boy toy.’”
“Fuck buddy?”
“Mason!”
He laughed. “C’mon sis, you never fuck up. Ever. Let me enjoy this.”
I frowned. “Why is this considered a fuckup?” I toyed with the hem of my sweater as I walked. “I mean, it’s not like he’s in high school.”
“Yeah, but he’s younger than you, you’re ahead of him in where you are in life. He’s still in college and you have a full-time job. He has no income, he still lives with his parents. He’s . . . fuck Bri, he’s me.”
I pulled the phone so fast from my ear to glare at it, then almost dropped it as I hissed in protest.
“That’s the most awful thing you could ever say to me,” I complained.
“What? It’s true. He’s tall, dark-haired, fit, plays defense, has fuck all responsibility . . . He’s exactly like me.”
“Well, then, if you see yourself in a twenty-one-year-old college student, you should be getting a big wake-up call, Mase.”
I screwed my eyes shut. That was so harsh.
“I am. That’s what I’ve been doing all morning.”
“Huh?”
“I got a new job.”
He sounded shy. My brother never sounded shy. “I’m listening.”
“Part-time, volunteering.”
“So not paid.” God, who made me the money police?
“No. Not financially. Hopefully spiritually.”
“I will hurt you if you don’t spill the beans.” I sat down on a bench not far from the main quad.
“I’m helping Coach Milne with the Hawks.”
The Hartwell Hawks were the high-school football team back home.
“Coaching?” I sat up straight. “High-school football coaching?” I was stupidly excited. “You haven’t been near a ball since—”
“I know.” His voice was gruff. “But you know, I watch. Sometimes. I’ve seen your boy toy play. He’s good. Could be faster, but he’ll get there.”
“Stop saying ‘boy toy,’” I snapped. “Oh my God, I think I’m actually happy for you . . .”
This was what I’d come here for. Not the exposure, not the accountability. This. Him doing something that football was supposed to lead to.
He laughed again. “Yeah, well, I’m still a fuckup, so don’t be too happy.”
“You’re not, Mase.” I looked out over the quad to where the Den stood, overshadowing everything. “They did this to you.”
“I could have fought harder.” He’d never said that before. “I think I took the breaking of my leg as the sign my career was over, long before I acknowledged their part in it.”
That was probably true. “Wow. This is a day of . . . new things.”
“You cannot hook up with your new thing. Or, if you are, then you need to get out of there. In fact, I will fully support you boning Noah if it means you quit.”
“There is so much wrong with that sentence.” I dropped my head into my chin as I people-watched the few students who were walking about.
“Speaking of boning. I have a missed call from Diana. Why?”
“We really weren’t speaking of boning,” I corrected him firmly. “Um . . . Ugh, this is so awkward. She’s dumping you.”
He snorted. “Don’t I have to be in a relationship to get dumped?”
“I think she recalled the fuck-buddy card.”
“Cool.”
I blinked. “Cool?”
I could almost hear him shrugging. “Casual sex is casual sex, Bri. I can get it anywhere.”
“And I’m done. We — me and you — will never talk about sex again. Ever. This is a sibling rule that I am sure is in place worldwide. No mention of it ever again. Okay.”
“What about mini me? You still going to screw him?”
“I hate you.” I hung up.
I called him back, and he answered on the first ring. “I’m so proud of you for volunteering. I love you. Don’t talk to me about Noah!”
I hung up again when he laughed. I sat there on the bench for a little while longer. I read Noah’s texts from today and the ones from before.
I shouldn’t sleep with him again. Not for any of the reasons my brother mentioned, because yuck, but because of the stupid smile I always wore whenever I thought about Noah Matthews.
I could fall for him.
Easily.
Not because he was beautiful, though he was. Because he saw things clearly and chose to act on what he saw. Because he waited for my permission on his knees in a gallery hallway. Because he said ‘I’ll be good to you’ and meant it.
And then it could be a thing; it’d be so easy to be a thing with him. And if the thing became a thing, like a relationship . . . Then he’d graduate, get drafted, probably break my heart, and, God, it was a sad, sad story that had been told a thousand times before.
Whereas if I stayed away nothing could happen. Not when it could be avoided.
No. I wouldn’t fall for the linebacker — not any more than I already had. That ship had sailed, I suspected.
It was decided. I would avoid him.
Avoidance was the answer to my problems. Avoidance and denial.
A winning combination.