“I actually did it.” Jules beamed with pride and radiated happiness.
The camera crew left a bunch of stuff up, and Jules and Avery worked out their schedule for the rest of the month. She was still on cloud nine as we drove back to our street.
Once parked in front of her house, I turned off the engine.
“Thanks for the ride. I’m pretty sure I would’ve fallen asleep on the bus after my adrenaline high wore off, and I’d have crisscrossed the city until morning.”
“Any time.”
“Did you start on the work Buchanan assigned? You’d think he could at least hold off on his curmudgeon attitude until classes actually start.” She was talking a mile a minute and only chancing split-second long looks in my direction.
“Jules.” I dropped my hand onto her leg.
She stopped mid-word, her muscles tightened under my hand. “Yes.” She looked a second from ditching out of the car and rolling up onto her lawn like a stuntman making a quick getaway.
“I know what you said before, but—”
A sharp knock broke the building tension in the car. “Berk!”
I dropped my head against my head rest, letting out a growl of frustration. Was I going to have to paddle a boat out into the center of the Schuylkill River to get a second alone with her? Universe—this joke isn’t anywhere near funny.
“You’re needed. I’ve got to get through all that work. Let me know if you need any help or anything.”
And then she was gone.
The car door closed and the door to her house wasn’t far behind it.
“Berk!” Another knock on my window.
I threw open my door. “What?! What could possibly be so important that you couldn’t wait for me to get out of my damn car?”
The guy wearing a Fulton U jersey with my number eleven on it backed up a step. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to miss practice or be late to class. You’ve got a flat tire.” He pointed at my back driver’s side tire, slowly leaking air with a nice piece of metal sticking out of it. Shit.
“Thanks, man. Sorry for snapping at you.”
“No problem. Tension’s high with your game coming up. Do you want me to help?” He looked ready to sprint off and grab his toolbox.
“Sure, that would be great.”
I only hoped the donut spare in my trunk would hold up for the next few months and wasn’t flat already.
My phone woke me at one in the morning.
I’d only been asleep for two hours, after reading over the email from Buchanan that came with a metric ton of homework we needed to have ready for the first day of class.
He couldn’t have sent that out earlier? Maybe given everyone a bit more time to complete it all? But I didn’t want to show up to the first day of class empty-handed.
I hadn’t expected a distress call from Alexis as soon as it felt like my eyes were closed. She was stranded down at the shore, so I’d picked her up and made the two hour drive back to campus just in time for practice.
The same song and dance we always did.
“You need to be more responsible.”
“I’m having fun.”
“You can’t keep doing this.”
“You didn’t have to come. I could’ve figured it out on my own.”
“Then why did you call me?”
“Fine, next time I won’t.”
Which then led to me telling her that of course she could always count on me and not to try to get out of a situation she couldn’t handle on her own. I’d always be there for her.
I walked like a zombie to my cabinet and didn’t even try to hide it.
LJ looked up from his notebooks and textbooks at the kitchen table. “You look like shit.”
Rooting around back there, I grabbed one of my Twizzlers and shoved it into my mouth, trying to keep my eyes open.
“Are you finished with classes for the day?”
“One more.” I lifted the coffee pot with the barest hint of coffee left and poured it into my mouth, grimacing at the cold, bitter taste and the grittiness.
“Are you going to make it?” He cracked his back.
“Have to. I’ve got Buchanan.” I inhaled the strawberry licorice.
LJ grimaced and closed his books. “Good luck with that. Why’d you take that class? There are much easier ways to get your diploma.”
“Who needs a diploma when we’re going pro?” I willed my eyes open and pushed off the kitchen counter.
“You, maybe. With Coach killing me in practices you’d at least think I’d get more game time.”
“It’s better than it was before with none.”
“He keeps going on and on about this being for my own good. All I see is him pissed that Marisa’s staying here.”
“You didn’t see that coming?”
He shrugged. “She could’ve died, man. Showing up to her building on fucking fire, I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my life. The stuff with my dad when he got sick, that was slow. Long days in the hospital. You could brace for it. But with her, she could’ve been gone in a blink.”
Just like my mom, but she was still out there somewhere.
“Now we’re trying to keep her from killing us all with food poisoning.”
“Whenever she used to come over to my house, she walked into the kitchen like there was a ticking time bomb in there. Her house was always take-out. She can speed dial for Chinese, pizza, and cheese steaks with the best of them.”
“Maybe you should show her how.”
“Then I wouldn’t get to cook for her anymore.” He ducked his head and let out a huff. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to drag myself to Marisa’s presentation thing.”
“Such a good friend.”
His glare made the dig worth it.
“I’m going to grab a quick nap on the couch.”
“Make sure you set an alarm so you don’t oversleep.”
I nodded, too tired for words and walked out of the kitchen, dragging my bag along the floor. Thank god Keyton had brought this new couch. It was so much more comfortable than our old torture device masquerading as a couch. I lay down and the mid-afternoon light washed over my face.
Taking out my phone, I set the timer for forty-five minutes. That would give me enough time to get my ass up and back across campus before class started. Plenty of time.
My eyes shot open and I jumped up from the couch, staring out the window. The afternoon sun was no longer beaming me in the face. I snatched up my phone off the floor, still vibrating with its silent alarm that had been going off for thirty minutes.
I snatched my backpack up off the floor and leapt off the porch, missing every step on the way down. I made a beeline straight to my car and raced to campus. I should’ve just found somewhere to crash on campus. So stupid.
Feet slipping on the tile floors, I rushed around the corner of the liberal arts building. I slung my backpack up onto my shoulder and slowly turned the knob to the door. Buchanan’s back was to the class and he was writing on the board.
Jules sat toward the middle of the room with her notebooks neatly in front of her and another on the desk beside her with her bag on the chair. Her pointed gaze shot from the seat to me and back to the seat.