Page 5 of Game Plan
I burst into a fit of laughter. “I agree he’s hot. But stop.”
“Fine. Speaking of hotties, have you crossed paths with the new quarterback yet? Let me just tell you, he is what wet dreams are made of. He has a brother who’s as fuckable as him. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a sandwich between them.”
Goose bumps spread all over my skin at the mention of the boys I used to hang out with.
No, I haven’t, was my silent reply.
On Saturday, I could have sworn Mason was standing behind me during my shift at Lola’s, but when I’d turned around, he was nowhere to be seen. For the next few hours, I kept an eye out for him, but he never showed up.
I slapped Donovan’s forearm. “Ugh, Don. Don’t ever say stuff like that to me again. It’s…huh…I don’t have the words. What’s gotten into you this morning? Stop objectifying football players. Please, spare me the images that’ll send me straight to years of therapy. I don’t need to picture Mase and Craig doing the deed. It’s disturbing and—” My hand flew to my mouth, shutting me up before my brain could catch up.
“Wait a sec.” Donovan stopped me, placing an arm across my chest, before turning toward me in slow motion. “You know these guys?”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten before reopening them, then winced.
Even Cassidy had no idea the Pierce brothers and I used to be friends…once upon a time. I hadn’t told anyone before it’d slipped out just now.
No matter where I went on campus, people always talked about Craig and Mason. Every single time, my heart hiccupped in my chest at the mention of the latter, but I had grown a thicker skin over the last few months, and I was able to keep a straight face and avoid showing any emotion when it came to him.
“What? Noooo.” I tried to play dumb, but I was sure my friend could see through my fake innocence.
“You said Mase and Craig. You called them by their first names. Care to tell me how you know Mr. Football Hottie Number One and Mr. Football Hottie Number Two?” He angled himself until we fully faced each other. “Talk, girl. I’m all ears.”
I cast a glance down, pretending to be interested in the weathered stains dotting the concrete pathway. Now that Mason was the starting quarterback for the Crestwood University Phoenix, his face was plastered everywhere all over campus. All the girls wanted a piece of him, betting on his bed skills, and all the guys wanted to be him.
Even George, Lola’s owner, had named a drink after him. Pierce and Score. A mix of whiskey, orange juice, and a secret ingredient he wouldn’t reveal.
Just the idea of bumping into Mason sent shivers down my spine. I had no idea if he would even speak to me if we ever crossed paths. After how things had ended between us, I was certain I was the last person he wanted to run into, now that we’d be sharing the same university for the next four years.
“Melinda Shepard. What are you hiding from me? Who broke your heart? Number One or Number Two?”
I swallowed the weird taste coating my tongue. “It’s…huh…complicated. We grew up next door to one another. Craig used to date my best friend.”
“And?”
I huffed a long breath. “You won’t let it go, huh?”
“Nope. This is far too exciting a piece of information to just drop.”
“Mason and I, we…we were friends…until we weren’t anymore... It’s a long story, one I don’t wanna revisit right now.”
Donovan blinked and mimicked zipping his lips before pulling me into a half-hug. “From the look on your face, it’s a sour memory. I won’t talk about it anymore. Until you’re ready to confess it all.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” He let go of me, and I rubbed my other hand over my jean-clad thigh, desperate to erase the uneasiness spiraling inside me. “Let’s get to class.”
“Sure. Have you heard about what happened to Ernie after last practice?”
I thanked my friend in my head for the change of subject. We entered the building, and I listened to his retelling of the antics of a guy on the swim team while wondering if one day I would be cured of the Mason Pierce effect. It wasn’t normal that just the mention of his name could bring back a flood of hurtful memories we had shared, including our last encounter in the school hallway where he admitted he would be on the same campus as me for the next four years…and that he loved me. A scene that often replayed in my mind when I was alone. With a big inhale, I relaxed my shoulders and pushed all thoughts of my ex-friend away, focusing on the present as Donovan opened the door to the classroom and motioned me to go in first.
Minutes later, as our professor appeared in front of the class and lectured us about the first newspaper ever created, I took notes, forgetting about Mason with each stroke of my purple gel pen in my notebook.
I exited the library, en route to my last class of the day. Outside, dark clouds hovered in the sky, and a cold drizzle covered my skin. I fetched a hoodie from my bag and increased the pace, not wanting to be drenched by the time I reached Brennan C. Hall. Jules, a girl I’d met on orientation day and who studied public relations like me, was waiting by the double door, clutching two to-go cups. I removed my wet sweater and tied it around my waist before accepting the coffee she handed me.
I brought the cup to my lips, blowing on the steam rising from the small opening in the lid. “Thanks for this.” I took a tiny sip, relishing how the hot beverage killed the chills that now lived in my body. “Geez, this weather. I hate being wet when I’m not in a pool. I didn’t get the memo today would go from sunny and warm to cold and rainy. I thought they said it would be a nice week weather-wise.”
“Since when do you believe in the weather forecast? It’s like whatever they announce, Mother Nature will do the opposite. She’s like a three-year-old having a temper tantrum. I prefer to trust my bad leg. It never lies.” Jules had been a gymnast, but a car crash had cost her a limb and left her with a prosthetic lower leg. Two weeks ago, she had put together a support group on campus to help those whose lives had been altered by impaired drivers.
“Yeah, well, I should maybe stop listening to the forecast.”
