Page 22

AVERY

I sigh and sink down into my desk chair with the take-out salad I grabbed from the dining hall, setting it in front of me before I dig into my book bag.

Pulling out my notebook from my Tightwaddery class, I flick through the contents with a sigh.

Six full pages of notes from today alone, and Professor Karr announced an open notes quiz next week.

For a class I thought would be an easy elective, it’s turning out to be quite educational.

I can’t help but wonder if Damon is getting notes from another student or whether he’s dropped the class because he hasn’t been there since the first two, and the Damon I knew cared about his grades.

Then again, maybe he’s changed.

The thought gnaws at me as I stare at the notebook in contemplation.

I wonder what he would do if I copied my notes and gave them to him.

I could drop them off at his apartment or find a way to run into him after practice.

It would be the perfect excuse to see him.

And after the dance on Monday night, and our trip down memory lane, I’m dying to see him again.

I remember how he looked at me when our song came on.

The way something sharp and electric hummed in the air.

Damon can deny it all he wants, but there’s still something between us, even after all this time.

I saw the truth in his eyes, and foolish or not, it was enough to give me the smallest glimmer of hope.

Snapping my notebook shut, I push it aside, deciding he won’t take kindly to my tracking him down on campus, whether it’s in an effort to help him out or not. Which means, I’ll have to wait to see him.

With a sigh, I slide my salad toward me and peel off the plastic lid just as there’s a knock on my door.

With a frown, I stand, wondering who it could be. I never get visitors, and the only people I’ve spent any time with outside of class or work are Charlotte, Brynn, and the girls.

Could it be Damon?

The thought excites me as I square my shoulders and swing the door open, blinking at the sight of the four women?Charlotte, Brynn, Liz, and Samantha?all staring back at me, each of them holding a take-out bag in their grip.

“Happy Hump Day,” Brynn chirps with a grin.

Raising the bag in her hand, Liz asks, “Have you eaten lunch yet? Wednesdays are always better with takeout.”

I shake my head, feeling slightly foolish for hoping it might be him .

Of course it’s not.

Still, it’s a welcome surprise to have the girls here.

Warmth spreads through my chest as I step aside to let them in, a quiet thought threading through my mind. So this is what having girlfriends feels like. Not just laughter and making plans, but the unexpected moments when they show up simply because.

“How did you find my room?” I ask, sinking back down into my desk chair.

Charlotte shrugs. “It’s not like it was hard to figure out. We knew what floor you were on, so all we had to do was ask around.”

I nod, feeling silly for not having thought of it myself. After all, we live on different floors of the same building, not different planets.

“Soooo,” Samantha drawls as she steps inside, gazing around the space. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

My cheeks heat, because I know what she sees.

While other girls have pictures of hot men plastered all over their walls, cute prints, or giant photo collages of friends, I have nothing.

No personal mementos or framed photos from home.

Nothing personal that tells a story or gives insight into my life.

Then again, my purpose at AAU was never about making friends or building a life here.

I have one goal and one goal only.

To win Damon back.

Friends are just a bonus.

I wring my hands out in front of myself, glancing around with a grimace. The only pop of color in the room is the seafoam-green of my comforter. “I’m not much for decorating,” I say.

In truth, everywhere I’ve lived, my parents have hired an interior designer. Even my apartment at Harvard was furnished and decorated by someone else until it looked as though it was plucked straight from the inside of an interior home magazine prior to my living there.

“We can see that.” Charlotte does a little spin, grinning as she plops herself down on the edge of my bed along with Brynn and Samantha, while Liz takes the desk chair opposite of mine. “You’re turning out to be a mysterious girl, Avery Astor.”

I swallow, wondering if there’s more to that comment than meets the eye. Maybe she spoke with Chris or Damon. Maybe they know the real reason why I’m here.

“Where’s your roommate?” Liz asks, breaking through my thoughts.

“Oh. I, uh, don’t have one,” I say.

Brynn’s brows rise. “You don’t have a roommate?”

I shrug, knowing it’s unusual. “She transferred at the last minute, and they never filled her spot. I’m sure I’ll have one next year if I stay.”

If any of them notice the use of the word “if” in regard to whether I’ll stay at AAU to the fall, they don’t mention it.

I have no clue what I’ll do if I fail at winning Damon back.

Staying here and watching him live a life without me will be too painful, but I also don’t want to go back to my old life at Harvard, and I certainly don’t want to go back home.

Is it possible to have a life here without him?

“That must get lonely.” Liz frowns.

“Sometimes,” I say, though it’s not as lonely as being surrounded by people who have nothing but ulterior motives. People who only want you for your last name or what you can do for them.

“So, you’re probably wondering why we showed up here unannounced,” Brynn says with a smile. “Other than to save you from your boring cafeteria salad.” She nods toward the plastic clamshell, and I laugh.

“The question crossed my mind,” I say.

“The thing is,” Charlotte starts, then exchanges a meaningful look with the others, “Chris came to me last night with some kind of harebrained scheme of setting Damon up on a date in the hopes of finding him a genuine connection, which”—Charlotte chuckles—“at first, we got a pretty good laugh out of because let’s be real, Damon finding a connection with anyone seems pretty unlikely.

I know you’re crushing on him, but he’s bitter and jaded and has shown zero interest in dating. ”

My pulse accelerates. They want to set him up on a date, after the moment we shared at the dance?

Shit, that can’t be good.

“So, naturally, we asked them why they wanted this,” Brynn continues, “and they were pretty evasive. Something about focus and distractions and getting over the past.” Brynn flaps her hand. “Basically, Chris was speaking out of his ass. No offense,” she says to Charlotte.

“None taken. The description is accurate.” Charlotte shrugs.

“Okay?” I say, wondering where this is going.

“Well, so Charlotte and I got to talking, and agreed that there’s something they’re not telling us.”

My stomach sinks.

“So, I did a little snooping,” Charlotte says with a grimace.

“I know you shouldn’t eavesdrop on your boyfriend’s conversations, but I might have pretended I was still sleeping when Damon called last night.

And I might have heard your name mentioned at least half a dozen times, along with something about moving on and letting go of the past . ”

They know.

The realization knots in my chest, and I wipe my sweat-damp palms on the front of my thighs, trying to think of an explanation they’ll understand.

I knew I’d have to tell them the truth about me and Damon sooner or later, but that doesn’t make the fear of their judgment any easier.

“I can explain,” I hear myself say. “Damon and I . . . well, we used to be . . .”

Shit. Why is this so hard?

Just say it, Avery. Let the cards fall where they may, and if they judge you for it, they’re not your friends.

“We dated,” I blurt out. “More than dated,” I wince. “We were together all through high school.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I slide my gaze to each of them, unable to read their expression. If they’re shocked or angry, I can’t tell.

The room falls silent. The only sound is my pulse, loud in my ears.

“Seriously?” Charlotte asks, the first to break the silence. “But how?” Her forehead knots in confusion. “You said you met him in class.”

I grimace. “Technically, I said he’s in one of my classes, not that I met him there.

We met in seventh grade when he got a scholarship to play football at the private school I attended.

We became fast friends at a time when I had no idea what real friendship felt like,” I explain, chest aching with the memory.

“By our freshman year, I knew my feelings were deeper than that, so when he asked me to homecoming, I agreed to go and that was it. We were together all through high school and past graduation. We had our whole future all mapped out.” My voice grows thick as I think about how many plans we had and how badly I wanted them.

“Damon would start at AAU in the summer, and I’d follow.

He’d get drafted to the NFL, and we’d get married, so I could follow wherever he went.

But before I was supposed to leave for school, I .

. .” I swallow the lump in my throat, unsure of how to explain our breakup in a way they can understand without telling them the truth.

“You, what?” Charlotte prompts, searching my face for answers.

I sigh, glancing down at my hands. There’s no way around this. No way to make them understand without the truth I can’t share.

“I broke up with him,” I say, the truth bitter on my tongue. “Completely blindsided him.”

“Wait a minute.” Liz closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose before she blinks them back open. “You were high school sweethearts, madly in love, and planning a future together. Then just before college, you broke up with him ?”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Brynn frowns.

“I would have guessed it was Damon that ended it, considering his surly disposition,” Charlotte chimes in.