Page 2 of Fragile (Cedar Lakes University #2)
Chapter one
Quinn
Being in love sucks.
Being in love with someone who is blissfully unaware... that’s a special kind of torture.
As I sit, I think about short, dark hair that would bristle against my fingertips if I could run my hand over it. Warm brown eyes like pools of expensive chocolate and caramel. An athletic build that makes my mouth water each time I see it ripple beneath fitted t-shirts. My entire body comes alive at the thought of him…
“Earth to Quinn?” My daydream is interrupted by my best friend and roommate for the second year running. The look on her face has me blinking rapidly because, no, I was not listening.
“Sorry, got distracted. Let’s carry on.” I wave my hand dismissively and smile. With a glance at everyone around us in The Hangout, the common room in the athlete’s building, I focus back on my task. We usually commandeer this room on Sundays for our scrapbooking sessions, the little group slowly growing in members.
Hudson and Jay sit on the long couch, squabbling over pink and purple tape. Indie sits on Seb’s lap, as per usual, and even though she’s still looking at me, I can tell she’s focused on my brother more. A surge of happiness floods me and even though, right now, we’re missing one person in our friendship group, this year is going to be great. I can feel it. It’s our second scrapbooking session of the new school year, so everything feels fresh and exciting. New page, new chapter, and yet another year fantasizing about someone I’ll never have. But that’s okay, I’m used to it.
“Quinnnnnn,” Hudson whines, dragging out my name. “Jay is using all the pink tape, and he doesn’t even like pink.”
“You guys need to learn to share. Did they not teach you that in kindergarten?” I chuckle, then reach into my bag, pulling out a brand-new roll with tiny pink hearts and throwing it to Hudson. He leans forward, his hand snatching it from the air as I say, “I got this one just for you.” Finding the other tape that’s blue with teal hearts, I throw that one to Jay. “And this for you.”
Both boys look at me with the biggest grins. “You’re the best,” they say in unison.
I shrug. “I know. Now, do you need anything else, or are you done arguing?”
Hudson and Jay both tear open their tapes, arguments forgotten. “We’re fine now.”
Everyone settles into a quiet rhythm of scrapbooking their own projects, and I look down at mine. This particular page is similar to my others. Tiny hearts surround the printed pictures of the cookies Indie and I made at Thanksgiving last year, the recipe making my stomach rumble. With a smile, I run my finger over the doodles of the cookies. As I brush my fingers over more drawings, heat blooms in my cheeks, specifically when I reach the one of a hand. The inspiration of the real thing that gripped my waist and sprinkled flour in my hair. Nearly a year ago, yet it feels like it was yesterday. His touch burned into my skin, and it’s never left.
But what started out as a hand quickly ended up evolving into sketches of the tattoos I know he has. A few vines, abstract drawings, roses, some playing cards, my favorite one being the Queen of Hearts. They all litter the pages like a memory. Shrinking into my chair, I pull my notebook closer to my chest, keeping it to myself and glad no one except me looks at it, because they’d immediately notice that the entire thing holds hints of him. Even if the topic has nothing to do with him, it always does. He’s woven into my life so deeply, it’s painful, yet I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I swallow a sigh and find myself in need of a distraction. “How is the team feeling with the new recruits?” I ask my brother and Hudson.
“We’ve got another linebacker and he has just as much attitude as the current one.” Seb chuckles, winking at Hudson.
“Oh yeah?” Hudson replies, amusement in his tone. “Well, good thing I’m an excellent teacher; he’s learning from the master.”
Seb scoffs another laugh. “Master,” he mumbles under his breath. Hudson scowls, launching a pen at him, but he catches it—of course he does. “I’m just saying, when you get too tired out there, at least we can sub you, so you can go paint your nails and take a long bubble bath. We all know there’s only one QB trying to score anyway.”
“Poor little superstar out there all alone,” Hudson mocks as he wipes fake tears from his eyes. “Maybe we should look for another QB, really test your skills to share the field with them.”
“Fuck you very much. Honestly, though, I’d love a sub QB. But sadly, no one wants to take my title yet.”
“ Yet being the operative word. I might not be QB material, but I’m coming for that C when you graduate,” Hudson muses, throwing him a wink as he continues teasing. “If not sooner. You better watch your back.”
Seb gives him the middle finger, and I stifle a laugh. The only time my brother would give up captaincy is when he graduates, so Hudson is completely out of luck until then. “You couldn’t handle the C, pretty boy.” Ignoring Hudson, he turns his attention back to me. “Most of the others have been keen. I mean, we need some more field time together, but you know how it goes with new recruits. They can be a pain in the ass.” Seb purses his lips, hiding a smile, pointedly looking over at Hudson again.
“Uh, excuse me.” He guffaws, trying not to get tangled in his tape, which he usually does. “As a newbie last year, I take offense to that. I’m awesome.”
Seb laughs. “Yeah, now you are, but we still needed to whip you into shape.”
“I’ve always been amazing. Just took you longer to see it,” Hudson grumbles.
“You saw them last week at the game when Devin got put in. The kid was too eager and didn’t listen to me. Think he needs a lesson in who’s captain.” Seb continues, ignoring Hudson’s sulk.
“Your ego never fails to impress me.” Indie looks down at my brother with a playful roll of her eyes.
Hudson and I both snort a laugh, and his gaze lands on me, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he asks, “So, Quinn, any new cheerleaders I should know about this year?”
“No,” Seb snaps, thrusting out his finger. “Stop chasing skirts and focus on football and school, Hudson. One of these days, it’s going to get you into trouble.”
“I like trouble.” He grins salaciously.
My eyebrow arches, thoroughly unimpressed with him and his playboy ways. “And that grin is exactly why I’m not telling him anything,” I say with a small sigh because, truthfully, he’ll find out soon enough when we all share the field for practice and games, but at least I can try to keep him away from girls for a little bit longer.
“I don’t like trouble,” Jay mutters, not looking up from what he’s doing, concentration etched on his face. “Because that means trouble for me too when I have to bail you out.”
“You love me, really,” Hudson says. Nudging Jay with his shoulder, he knocks the tape out of his hands.
“Sure.” With a snort, he bends down and stops it from rolling under the table. “We’ll go with that.”
The conversation between us all becomes hushed, but comfortable, replaced by the rustle of paper, ripping of tape, and clicking of pens. Watching my friends enjoy this makes me miss Miles.
“Did anyone talk to Miles this morning?” I ask no one in particular, but it’s my brother who responds.
“I saw him first thing, heading for the gym or maybe coach’s office.” He frowns, itching his chin. “Yeah, actually, I’m sure he had some stuff to go over with coach.”
“He never joins in.” Hudson pouts like he’s truly offended by it.
“Don’t worry, princess, you have less competition this way.” Seb leans over to ruffle Hudson’s hair, making it stick up every which way.
“Dude, not the hair!” Hudson yelps, batting my brother away.
Indie shifts off Seb’s lap to reach the dark gray tape. Seb tracks her every movement, but talks to the group. “I’m not kidding, though. Miles excels at everything he does. I’m sure his scrapbooking skills would even outshine Quinn’s if he put effort in.”
“There’s no way he’d be better than Quinn,” Jay replies, his eyes still on his paper.
A grin breaks out over my face, and I preen. “Thanks, Jay, I knew you were my favorite.”
“O mesmo para ti,” he says, and I rack my brain for what that means. He’s been teaching me some Portuguese, mainly because I bugged him to, but I’m loving it.
Tapping my finger against my chin, I close my eyes, trying to remember what we went over last week. “You said, same to you ?”
“Very good. You’re catching on so fast.” Jay beams.
Hudson’s bottom lip sticks out for the second time today. “I wanna be someone’s favorite.”
“Jesus, Hudson, could you be any more of a man child? You all drive me crazy sometimes,” Indie mutters as she shakes her head.
“You’re not mad at me, though. I’m your favorite, right, baby?” he asks, running his nose up the side of her neck.
“No, Quinn is.” She deadpans, and I stifle a giggle at my brother’s dejected face. “But I guess you’re okay too.” As she bops his nose, Seb’s frown deepens. Indie glances over at me, a rare smile tugging at her lips. That’s my best friend. Saweetie & Doja Cat’s “Best Friend” blares in my head.
Reaching for my phone on the coffee table, I check my messages in case I’ve missed one from Miles, but there’s nothing. I drop him a ‘come to the Hangout’ text, watching it flicker from delivered to read instantly, and then the three little dots dance around for a minute.
Miles
Can’t. Dad’s riding my ass about practice.
My shoulders slump slightly, just as another message comes through.
Miles
Next time.
Recently, ‘next time’ doesn’t happen. A heaviness settles in my stomach as I stare at his reply, my fingers hovering over the screen. I know his dad and coach are focused on his career and that he’s entering the draft next year. And while that’s amazing, Seb’s doing the same thing, and he’s here. Football is the end goal for both Miles and my brother, but it doesn’t stop me from missing him and wanting him with us.
Graduation is only two years away for them, sooner if they take part in the draft…and everything will change. I’m feeling nostalgic for something that isn’t happening yet, and I know it’s pointless, but I already feel the changes. The way Seb and Indie spend more time alone. The way Jay and Hudson are getting busier with their schedules. The fact Miles can’t always be here.
I can’t imagine not seeing everyone at our scrapbook club. But most of all, I can’t imagine not seeing Miles almost every day. That thought makes my blood run a little too cold. And I know I’m never going to be ready for that change.