Page 72 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

Wednesday comes too fast. I clutch my notebook tighter as I walk across the quad, the late-summer sun too bright for how heavy I feel inside. My stomach knots tighter the closer I get to the building.

And then I see him, and my anxiety spikes.

Joey leans casually against the brick wall by the door like he belongs there, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He spots me instantly, his too-bright smile spreading like he’s been waiting all morning just for this.

“Bri,” he drawls, pushing off the wall, “Good morning.”

I stop short, every muscle in my body tightening. “Don’t.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, that golden-boy grin firmly in place. “Hey, I’m just trying to be friendly. We’re in this class together three times a week. Might as well get used to seeing each other.”

“I don’t have to get used to anything.” My voice is clipped, sharper than I intend, but it feels good to put a wall between us.

He tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he already knows how to solve. “C’mon, Bri. Don’t be like that. We had something good once. Everyone thought so.”

My chest constricts, heat flaring in my cheeks. “We didn’t. And you know it.”

His smile falters for just a second, and for that fraction of a moment, I catch the steel in his eyes, cold and sharp. But then it’s gone, smoothed over by charm. “You’re mad. I get it. You’ll see it, eventually.”

“No, Joey.” I move past him, my shoulder brushing his, my pulse racing. “I won’t.”

He falls into step beside me, his tone maddeningly light. “So stubborn. That’s one of the things I always loved about you.”

Loved. Past tense. But the way he says it makes it sound like a promise.

By the time I slide into a seat in the middle row, my hands are shaking. He sits at the desk beside me, a small aisle separating us, still smiling like this is all just some game he’s already won.

I stare straight ahead, praying for the professor to start the lecture, anything to drown out the sound of Joey’s voice echoing in my head.

And all the while, a single thought eats away at me: Everett would never let this happen. I don’t know how he would prevent this, but he would’ve. He would’ve found a way. Been my shield like he was this summer.

But Everett isn’t here.

I’m alone.

I turn my head to the window, staring at the quad. My tattered heart sluggishly beats inside my chest, missing Everett so much it aches.

By the time class ends, I’ve chewed the end of my pen to shreds, and my notes are a mess of shaky lines. I shove my notebook into my bag, desperate to put space between Joey and me.

But he’s faster.

He falls into step beside me as I push through the door, his grin easy, practiced. “Hey, so listen. The first home football game is on Saturday. Everyone’s going. You should come.”

“No.” The word comes out sharp and immediate.

He chuckles like I just made a joke. “C’mon, Bri. It’ll be fun. Just like old times.”

“There are no old times worth repeating.”

We hit the stairwell, his shoulder brushing mine as he leans in. “Don’t be like that. You’ll love it. And it’d be nice… You and me hanging out again.” His tone softens, low and coaxing. “Like it’s supposed to be.”

My stomach flips. “I said no.” I pick up my pace, but he matches it effortlessly, his cologne sharp in the narrow stairwell.

We spill out into the sunlight, and my breath catches. Meghan is leaning against the railing, scrolling on her phone. She looks up, her smile stretching when she sees me. “Hey, girl! Thought I’d catch you here.”

Joey’s grin widens like fate just handed him an ally. “Perfect timing.” He turns to Meghan, tilting his head toward me. “I was just inviting Bri to the game on Saturday. She’s playing hard to get.”

Meghan blinks, her gaze flicking between us. “The game? Oh, that could be fun.”

My pulse spikes. “No, it couldn’t.”

Joey gives her a charming shrug. “Help me out here. She’s being stubborn.”

Meghan laughs, sliding her phone into her bag. “She’s always stubborn.” She bumps my shoulder playfully. “Come on, Bri. A football game, some tailgating? You could use a night out.”

I gape at her, betrayal burning hot in my chest. “Are you serious?”

Meghan’s expression flickers—something quick and unreadable—before smoothing back into friendly insistence. “What? I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun.”

Joey’s grin sharpens, triumphant. “See? She gets it.”

My hands curl into fists. “I said no.”

For a heartbeat, something dark flickers in his eyes again before he hides it with a chuckle. “Suit yourself. But I’ll save you a seat anyway.” His voice drops, smooth as silk and twice as suffocating. “You’ll come around.”

I stomp down the steps, my voice shaking. “Don’t count on it.”

But the way Joey smiles at me—like he already knows I’ll go—makes dread coil tighter in my stomach.