Page 6 of Almost Ours

“Are you sure you can’t take someone else?”

“No. I’m not leaving until you’re ready to come with us.”

My gut spirals, but Brooke is stubborn and I know she means it. Resigned, and feeling a little bit like I’m being held at gunpoint, I grumble out. “Hang on, let me get my shit.” I grab my blue hoodie from the back of my desk chair, shrugging into it. Keys. Phone. Wallet. "Where are we going?" I mutter, locking my door.

"The tiny café on campus," Brooke informs me, giddy now that she’s got me to relent. I note that she’s wearing a different ring on every finger, and four silver bracelets on her left wrist. "The one with the good brownies."

"And the cute barista," Ewan adds breezily.

Brooke smacks his arm. "We're not there for the barista."

"You're not," Ewan shoots out. “Josh might be.”

I make a show of sharply breathing out my nose. Loudly. They ignore me.

We start walking down the corridor, Brooke practically bouncing beside Ewan, hand linked with his. I trail behind them a few steps because walking in a tight group makes my skin itch. Ewan glances back every few seconds to make sure I'm still there, like a child on a leash.

We walk for five minutes before Brooke makes a noise that sounds like a delighted gasp. "Oh my God. There she is. She actually came!”

I follow her gaze automatically. She's looking at a girl leaning against the wall outside the café. Her hands are wrapped around a takeaway cup, her dark, tight, curly hair falling over her shoulders. Slim frame. Light brown skin. Big hazel—not green—eyes scanning the courtyard.

Next to her is a tall guy, chatting to her in a low tone. He's angled towards her in a protective way jealous blokes do—shoulders turned, head dipped, making sure she can hear him.

Boyfriend? Brother? Bodyguard? No idea.

Brooke inhales sharply. "Right. Okay. Act normal."

Ewan snorts. "When do you ever act normal?"

Brooke elbows Ewan in the ribs, making him yelp before she fixes him with a warning look. “Ewie, behave. I actually want this girl to like me.”

“I always behave myself. I’m the most likeable one out of the three of us.”

“Not with that ego, you’re not.”

“Bollocks.”

I stay quiet, because I don't know what "normal" is supposed to look like in this situation. All I know is that the girl is pretty as hell.

As we get closer, I realise the guy she's talking to is Oscar Hollis, captain of the Firsts. I've got trials for the team later, so I've spent an embarrassing amount of time learning who's who over the summer.

My eyes flick between him and the girl beside him. She isn't the one I'd seen plastered all over his Instagram. Unless he's somehow managed to replace his girlfriend in the last twelve hours, something isn’t adding up. Not that it is any of my business. I’m not about to introduce myself to university life by exposing a stranger's affair.

I hate cheaters, sure. But I’m not the cheating police. I’m minding my business on this one.

Brooke slows down the closer we get, her steps getting shorter in a comical way. By the time we reach the girl, she looks like she's debating turning around and pretending she never invited us all to gather here.

"H–Hi," Brooke stammers, voice slightly too high. "Ruby!"

Ruby straightens from the wall, smiling at us. It’s a nice smile. Big. Lights up half of her face.

Oscar gives us all a quick nod.

Brooke hovers for a second like she wants to hug Ruby but isn't sure Ruby would want that, so she ends up doing this weird half–wave, half–fidget with her fingers.

No one seems to know where to look or what to do. A bunch of misfits standing in a loose circle, staring at each other.

Oscar rescues the moment with a simple, "Alright?”