Page 6 of Scars of Anatomy

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I wake up around noon, skipping my Monday morning classes and even lunch to sleep in.

The game Saturday night was brutal but we ended up pulling out a win for the first game of the season.

Then the parties afterward were even more brutal, and my head throbs as soon as I sit up in my bed to rub the sleep from my eyes.

After much procrastination and a heavy sigh, I force myself to get up. Finding some aspirin sitting on top of my desk, I down two pills with a bottle of water before grabbing my towel and shower caddy, and dragging ass down the hall to the showers.

I spend about ten minutes in the shower, half that time spent just standing under the hot spray of water to try to soothe my aching muscles. Once I’m out of the shower, I slip into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, shrug on my backpack, and head toward the language arts building.

On my stroll over, I get a number of congratulations and pats on the back for my performance Saturday night.

I walk into the building with my head held high and ego boosted. Rounding the corner, I immediately spot Olivia sitting in her seat, writing in her planner. “Hey, Finch,” I greet her, walking into the classroom and taking my seat next to her.

Her head perks up at the sound of my voice, her eyes finding mine. “Hey,” she says, flashing me that smile of hers. “I heard you had a good weekend.”

“Yeah.” I chuckle, still riding my high, especially after she personally bid me congratulations. “Thanks, we really kicked ass. How was shopping with Delilah?”

Her face falls, a look of agony washing over her features. “Remember how I told you sometimes I think a root canal would be more fun? That was one of those times.”

“Ouch. Sorry. You should have come to the game instead,” I jab playfully.

Her lips turn up into a half smile, and she shoots me an apologetic look. “Maybe next time.”

“I’m going to hold you to it.”

Once class is dismissed, I wait for Olivia to finish packing up her things and walk out of the classroom with her. As soon as we make it to the hallway, Olivia pulls her vibrating cell phone out of her pocket, checking the caller ID before answering.

“Hey, Dee,” she greets her friend. Even with the buzz of the hallway I can slightly pick up Delilah’s frantic, apologetic voice coming from the other end of the line, making Olivia’s brows knit together.

I watch Olivia’s shoulders deflate, a small frown pulling at her lips as she listens to Delilah carry on.

When we reach the front of the building, I hold the door open for her, letting her walk out first, and she mouths me a quick thank-you.

“No, it’s okay,” Olivia says, trying to hide her wounded tone, prompting Delilah to spout out what sounds like more apologies.

“Dee, it’s really no big deal. I can find another ride home or wait for my mom to finish teaching her last class.

” Delilah speaks and Olivia looks at her watch, slightly cringing.

“It ends at five.” Three hours from now.

“Delilah, really, I’m fine.” Olivia giggles, trying to assure her friend by taking on a light, airy tone. “Go knock their socks off.” A genuine smile touches her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With a few more words from Delilah, and a few more reassurances from Olivia, the two say their goodbyes and hang up. Olivia shoves her phone back into her pocket, letting out a small sigh.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah.” Olivia waves her hand dismissively.

“Dee was just calling to tell me she can’t drive me home today.

Apparently word just spread that the president of the debate club is stepping down and the officers are having an impromptu meeting to select a new one.

It’s been Dee’s dream since we started college to get that position. ”

“So you don’t have a ride home?” I ask.

Over the past week I’ve gathered that she rides home with Delilah, since her house is on the way to Delilah’s apartment.

She shrugs. “My mom gets off at five. I’ll wait for her to pick me up.”

I frown. “That’s three hours from now.”

“I can just sit in the library. I’ve got some homework to do anyway.”

“It’s the second week of classes. You don’t have that much homework,” I point out. “I’ll drive you home.”

Her eyes widen in surprise at my offer. “Bronx, you don’t have to do that. Really, I have no problem waiting in the library.”

“And I have no problem giving you a ride home,” I state. “Coach canceled today’s practice to give us a break after this weekend, so I have nothing better to do. Plus, maybe I could get that lab manual from you for Willford’s class.”

“Oh shoot,” she mumbles. “Sorry, I totally forgot about that. Yeah, I can give it to you.” She worries her lip, looking hesitant. “Are you sure you want to drive me home?”

“It would be my pleasure,” I say, a feeling of excitement surprisingly bubbling up in my chest. “I just have to grab my keys, and we can get going.”

Olivia and I walk across campus to my dorm room, and I unlock the door, mentally cursing myself for not making my bed. Then there are a few items of clothing scattered on the floor, most of them Chase’s. Our room isn’t a complete wreck, but it’s not tidy either.

Speaking of Chase, he’s lying on his bed shirtless, one hand behind his head while the other hand is holding the remote, pointing it at the TV to flip through channels.

“Shit, sorry, it’s a mess in here,” I apologize to Olivia, suddenly feeling a rush of embarrassment at having her see my room and roommate like this.

She gives me a reassuring smile, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s not that bad.”

“Uh—hi,” Chase says, sitting up in his bed, his brows nearly to his hairline. Chase knows I never bring girls to our room. Not even to hang out.

“Chase, this is Olivia. Olivia, this is my roommate, Chase,” I say, giving them a rushed introduction as I stride over to my desk, picking up one of Chase’s shirts from the floor along the way and quickly tossing it at him. It hits him in the chest and lands in his lap.

Chase just stares at Olivia in confusion as she stands in the doorway, waiting for me.

“Hi.” She gives him an awkward wave, probably wondering why he’s staring at her like she has two heads.

“Dude,” I hiss, wishing he’d stop staring at her as I throw my backpack on my desk chair.

Chase snaps his head in my direction, giving me a what the fuck look.

“Can I borrow the truck?” I ask, already reaching for the keys on top of his desk. In the past, Chase has let me borrow his truck if I need it, since the only vehicle I have is a motorcycle that I let him borrow in exchange.

“Uh, sure,” he says slowly, still beyond confused.

“I’m giving Olivia a ride home,” I explain. I know there’s probably no way in hell she would let me drive her home on the motorcycle.

“I hope that’s okay,” Olivia says politely, looking at Chase.

Chase shakes his head, seemingly clearing his mind and sobering up. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine, uh, it was nice meeting you,” he says as I snatch the keys from his desk and usher Olivia out of our room.

“You too. Thank you,” she calls over her shoulder as I close the door behind us.

“Sorry about him,” I apologize, mentally shaking my head at Chase for making that so damn awkward.

Sure, I may never let girls into our room, but it wasn’t like I had her draped over my shoulder, ready to throw her onto my bed and toss her around in my sheets—something he’s fond of doing himself.

He lets girls come and go as he pleases, not finding that concept as messy as I do.

Olivia and I walk to the parking lot and hop into Chase’s truck. She gives me directions to her house, which is fifteen minutes away from campus, and I’m not surprised when she tells me to turn into a nice subdivision and pull into the driveway of a beautiful home.

It’s a sizable split-level house with light-gray siding, white trim, and shutters. With the colorful flowerbeds, careful landscaping, and literal white picket fence, it looks like it could grace the cover of a home magazine.

“This is it,” Olivia states, reaching for her backpack on the floorboard. “Would you like to come in? It may take me a minute to find that lab manual for you.”

Again, unexpected excitement bubbles up in my chest. “Sure.”

We climb out of the truck and she leads me up the sidewalk to the front door. Pulling her keys out of her backpack, she unlocks the door, which has one of those decorative wreaths with a large M on it, and leads me inside.

Stepping into the foyer, I note that her house is just as beautiful inside as it is outside. With a relatively open floor plan, the space is homey, filled with soothing neutral colors. Nothing is too modern or dated, everything seemingly designed to show that it’s a well lived–in family home.

“Dad?” Olivia calls, dropping her keys on the table next to the door.

“Hi, honey,” an older male voice calls, followed by the sound of footsteps.

A man, who I’d guess was in his late forties, comes into view.

His dark hair is starting to gray, as is the well-groomed, full mustache resting above his top lip.

“Oh, hello,” he says, momentarily surprised to find someone else in his home.

“Dad, this is Bronx, we go to school together. And, Bronx, this is my dad, Stan,” Olivia introduces us.

I politely extend my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Bronx Miller.”

He gives me a warm smile, removing the reading glasses from his light-blue eyes before placing his hand in mine, giving me a firm handshake. “Trust me, son, I know who you are. You sell me a lot of jerseys.”

It takes me a long moment before I get it all to click.

McCausland .

As in, McCausland Sporting Goods.

I nearly smack myself for not realizing it sooner. McCausland Sporting Goods is the largest local sporting goods store. They sell and make the team’s jerseys and apparel. Stan must be the owner.

I let out a soft chuckle. “It’s my pleasure.”