Page 110 of End Game
“What about Barrett?”
“What about him?”
“Well, you guys are best friends. Have you ever thought about turning it into more?”
I blow out a breath. “He has feelings for someone.”
“Bullshit.”
“He told me this morning, he’s crazy about her and has been for a while. She’s an athlete and full Chinese and perfect for him. So even if I were interested, and I’m not sure if I am or not, he’s not available. Not for me.”
I blow out a breath. I don’t know how I feel, I just know that I don’t like feeling limited or boxed into a corner. His parents have always hated me, so even if he magically did have feelings for me… it would be just another fight with them. I don’t want to cause a rift between him and his family. I know how much they mean to him.
Tucker frowns. “I’m sorry, girl.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I don’t think I realized how much I wanted something to happen with Barrett until he took that option off the table. Because even if I’m not ready for a relationship, I’m not opposed to… activities with him, in bed and out of it. He’s not interested in being my “friend with benefits” or anything in that vein. He just wants to be my friend.
I want to be his friend, too. I really do. I just want… more. Life is fleeting. We don’t know how long we have. If Barrett makes the pain go away…
Tucker and I head into the psychology building and make our way towards our class. Dvora is sitting at the front of the room, and I smile and nod at her as Tuck and I take our usual seats on the opposite side of the room. We’ve been texting a little, and she sent me some notes for one of our other classes. It helped. It all helps. We might be competing for the same small openings in graduate school, but for now, we’re all a community.
We make it through class without incident. The professor lectures, and we take notes, and then there’s an open discussion over the assigned reading. I’m behind, so I haven’t read it yet, and I don’t really contribute anything of substance. It’s on my mile long to-do list.
After class, Dvora approaches us. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good,” I tell her.
“We missed you at the psych mixer last week,” she says.
“Next time. I wanted to be here. I just… couldn’t.”
“No, you’re right, I totally get it,” she’s quick to reassure me. “Your dad is more important than a mixer. How’s he doing?”
“He’s getting better.”
It’s easier if I don’t mention his terminal cancer. He doesn’t want to be seen as someone who’s sick. He just… exists.
Dvora gives me a small smile. “Good. I’m glad.”
Yeah, me too.
“Are you going to the study group this afternoon?”
“What time?” It’s the first I’ve heard about it.
“We meet in the psych library at three,” she says.
I can make it work. I should be done with practice by two, maybe half past. Plenty of time to grab a shower and a snack and make it over there.
“I’ll be there,” I tell her, and she grins.
“Great,” Tuck says, jumping into the conversation. “It’s a good group.”
I can’t help but feel a little hurt that we’re seven weeks into the semester and I’m only now finding out about a study group. Tucker and I have been studying on our own. He’s never mentioned anything about having other study buddies.
I can’t rely on Barrett and my teammates to be my only friends. I have to build a support network for myself the old fashioned way, through sheer grit and determination. Transferring to Newton as a fifth year senior, I don’t have the luxury of years of bonding time tying us together. I barely talk to my old friends from USC. They’re great, we keep in touch on social media more than anything else, but we didn’t form the kinds of lasting bonds that I’m so desperate to find. It’s time for me to put in the hard work, and hope that it pays off in the end.
