“You’re lucky I love you like a sister, because otherwise I’d kick your ass right now, Kayla.”
My brows fly up toward the edge of the ball cap I have pulled low over my face. I lay my arm across the table and reach for Em’s hand. “Talk to me.”
Her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath in, turning her hand enough to link fingers with mine. “I miss you.”
The walls I keep around me turn into jelly at her admission. This last week since returning home from Kentucky has been insane.
Sunday I slept at home to spend time with Bette since she drove up to bring Mase his car.
The next day E showed up. He said it was to bring Bette home, but since he followed it by spending his entire off day in Blackwell and having meetings with Jordan Donovan, I know what he was really doing—hovering. That didn’t stop me from sleeping at home another night so I could see him.
If it were just those two nights, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but…this weekend is NJA’s first competition. Instead of working three days a week, I’ve worked every night, making sure our stunting is solid across the board.
This is where the missing thing comes into play.
I’ve essentially turned into a commuter, sleeping at the Taylors’ at night because they are closer to The Barracks and spending every other second of my free time in the library to keep up with my course load.
“If you think she’s bad”—Q waves a hand at Em—“you should hear the guys bitch at Mason about you still not being back at lunch.” She scrunches her arms up and pinches her fingers together, miming playing the world’s tiniest violin. My gaze shifts to Em and we lose it, collapsing onto the table, our heads knocking together in a fit of giggles.
Minutes pass before we’re able to compose ourselves enough to speak, and again, I’m happy we’re tucked away upstairs; otherwise a librarian would be lecturing us on keeping the noise down.
“How about this…” I sit up, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Tomorrow’s game is a night game”—which I’ll be missing as well.
Since Mase and I have been confirmed as a couple again, things have leveled off on the school’s Instagram, but I can only imagine the speculation my absence is going to stir up.
“Why don’t you both come to Blackwell tonight?”
“Slumber party?” Q perks up like Herkie does when I open up peanut butter. Seriously, best addition to our group.
“What season of Gossip Girl are the girls on in their millionth binge?” Em asks, knowing of T and Savvy’s obsession with the show.
“I think season three, but whatever—I’ll take all the Chuck Bass I can get. It’s better than being forced to suffer through every movie with a football player as the hero.”
A divot forms in the middle of Em’s cheek. I appreciate how she’s biting back her laughter, but not as much as I do her letting me bitch about T’s backhanded support of Mase during our breakup. Sisters.
“Why are you even on campus?” Em asks. “It’s Friday.”
“I promised Mase I’d meet him after the team’s walkthrough. Wait…” I hold up a hand, a thought suddenly occurring to me. “How did you even know I was here?”
“The Gram,” Em and Q answer in unison. Of course. I may have said things have leveled out, but they didn’t stop. I doubt they ever will.
#Chapter42
The only thing that stops me from chucking my phone across the room when the alarm blares early on Sunday morning is knowing it’s waking me up so I can see Kay. Fuck I miss my baby. It doesn’t matter that it was at my coaxing that she didn’t come to yesterday’s game—the Hawks kicked Michigan State’s ass, in case you were wondering—I still felt her absence.
Kay was going to rearrange her entire schedule to be able to sit in the stands and cheer me on. And yes, I wanted nothing more than to see her there, my name and number on her back, doing just that. But after hearing about everything she needs to handle for a competition, I pulled on my big boy jockstrap and told her to skip the game.
All week, she made seeing me a priority among her hectic schedule. She thinks we’re not seeing each other until tonight, but little does she know, she’s in for one hell of a shock. All it took was one phone call.
“How do I get a ticket for this thing?” I ask Livi, her hair up in a high ponytail, blue camouflage bow still in place from practice.
“Are you coming?” Her hope and excitement are so strong I can feel them through my phone’s screen. Typically, if I make it to a competition, it’s one of the bigger ones that happen during my offseason.
“Trav!” Livi shouts, startling my best friend into dropping the game controller in his hand as he sits next to me.
I swivel the phone so he can see my little tyrant—er, sister—on the screen. Why did Mom have to go and have more kids? I may be the oldest sibling, but the twins are the ones who really run the show. “What’s up, Livs?”
“Are you coming too?” She blinks, putting the full weight behind her puppy dog eyes. If my sister has me wrapped around her finger, Trav is practically tattooed on it.
His answer is automatic. “Anything for my favorite girl.”
See what I mean?
“Hold up.” Noah, never one to know how to mind his business, cuts in. “Where’s our invite?”
Trav takes the phone from me as I lean over and roll my eyes in a way that would make Kay proud. “You wanna come to a cheer competition?” I ask in disbelief.
He shrugs his
