Page 108 of End Game

“Yeah.” He blushes. “But she’s made it clear she’s totally not into me, so I just have to live with it.”

“Barrett…”

“So what happened between us can’t happen again. Not when I have feelings for… her.”

I feel very small. “Do I know her?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah. You’ve met.”

“And you’re not going to tell me who she is?”

“Nope. Not when she’s made it clear… yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

My stomach aches. I don’t like the feelings I get when I picture Barrett with some other woman. I’m not a jealous, insecure person. He deserves to be happy.

But why has he never mentioned her? We’ve been by each other’s side since the semester started, and not once has he gone out with anyone or even chatted up a girl at a party. I thought he was this confident, self-assured guy. Has my vision of him been tainted by time? Or am I imagining a perfect, idealized version of my best friend? Who is he, really?

For so long, it’s just been me and Barrett. I’ve always been the most important woman in his life. We’ve gone on sporadic dates with other people, but neither of us have ever had a full-fledged relationship that I know of. If he’s had a girlfriend, he’s kept it a secret.

And now he has feelings for some other woman, someone who isn’t me.

I know he’s had sex before. He’s called me after, drunk and regretful, and rambled about how it wasn’t right. The other night definitely wasn’t his first time, not the way he fucked me. He’s still looking for the right one. Or maybe he’s found her.

Who the fuck is this woman that won’t give him the time of day? I want to slap her upside the head. Barrett is amazing. He’s a fucking catch. He’s the perfect candidate to be a boyfriend.

“How did you meet?” I ask quietly.

“I’ve known her for a while. It’s a small school,” he says.

“Is she an athlete?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she Chinese?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

My stomach sinks. His parents will be happy, at least.

“Is it… it’s not Johanna, is it?”

His face screws up. “No. Fuck no.”

“Because she…”

“She’s not even close to being on my radar,” he says firmly. “I’ve liked this woman for a while. At one point, I thought something might happen, but she doesn’t want what I want, so I’ve stopped pursuing her.”

“There’s someone else. You’ll find—”

“I’m not interested in anyone else. I’m interested in her.”

I swallow. “She sounds… perfect.”

“She’s not perfect, not even close,” he says with half a laugh. “But she would be perfect for me, and I would be perfect for her, if only she would agree to go out with me.”

“And she won’t?”

“We want different things,” he says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “I don’t want to talk about this.”