I shake my head. “Don’t tempt me to stand you up.”
“Christ, fine.” He straightens to his full height, walks backward toward the door, and yells, “She said yes, Zula.”
“Wait, she knew about this?”
He shrugs. “She’s my only fan. Everyone else seems to think it’s a bad idea.”
Zulakya ducks her head around the door leading to the back office, and answers, “I knew she would.”
After Levi leaves, Zulakya comes over to the counter, removing her glasses and wiping them with the hem of the flowy shirt she’s wearing.
“You can thank me now,” she says, squinting to look at me. The shyness that’s always present when people are around has vanished. Which is one of the reasons she didn’t show up at the party last Friday. At least that’s the reason she gave me. “And did you see those soccer thighs?”
I burst out laughing. “I did. That’s motivation if ever there was one.”
That week goes fast, and soon, the weekend rolls in. MJ and I spend most of it catching up with homework in our dorm room because I don’t want to fall behind on my studies.
The following week begins with the promise of cool temperatures. After my last class in the afternoon, right before I head to work, I find MJ waiting for me in the hallway. We hit the shopping center to check for sales and stock up on warm clothing.
The next Saturday morning, I startle awake to the sound of my phone ringing. I reach for it on my nightstand and squint at the screen to check the caller. I frown when I see Ivan’s name. I’m about to let it go to voicemail, but then it hits me. My best friend slept over at his place. Maybe something happened to her, and she couldn’t call me.
Then I remember she has a yoga class on campus.
I toss my phone on my pillow beside me and pull the blanket over my head. It starts ringing again, and I groan, sneaking a hand out of my cocoon and grab it to answer the call.
“What?” I mutter, irritated.
“Grace? Hey. Where are you?”
“Dorm. Where else would I be?” I grumble.
“Jesus. You’re such a grouch in the morning,” he says with a chuckle.
I huff under my breath and ask, “Did you call to test my patience?”
He clears his throat twice. “Um, can you come over to my place?”
“Why? Is MJ okay?”
“She’s fine. Actually she’s on her way there to pick up some things she needs before heading to yoga,” he says quickly. “It’s just, well . . .”
He’s nervous. As Ivan is the definition of chill, this is definitely not good. I sit up and swing my legs over the bed, taking the blanket with me to keep myself warm.
“What’s going on, Iv?”
He exhales, the whoosh filling the line. “Look, I could come over there, but I’m about to head out for practice. You just need to get here.”
“Can’t it wait until later?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, and in that silence, I hear whispers, then feet shuffling on the floor. “I don’t think so. I need some advice on something. It’s, um, urgent.”
“And you can’t tell me what it is on the phone?”
“I, um, I need to show you.”
I sigh. “Okay. This had better be worth the drive over there.”
After disconnecting the call, I shrug the blanket off, grab my towel from a hook next to my caddy, and head out of the room.
After splashing water on my face and brushing my teeth, I return to my room and apply some skin cream while wiggling my feet into a pair of sneakers. Hmm. Maybe I could go to watch the boys practice after this to buy time until MJ’s done with her class.
Five minutes later, MJ breezes inside the room with a, “Hey, girl,” and rushes to the closet. She reappears seconds later with a sports bag.
“Hey, can you drop me at the house? Ivan asked me to go over there, so I figured I’d go to practice with Levi after that.”
“He did?” She frowns. “Did he say why?”
I shake my head. “He seemed quite desperate.”
“Okay. Come on, let’s go. My class starts in twenty minutes. I’ll call him to check what’s up.”
She calls him. He’s stubborn and super-secretive and says he needs to speak to me urgently. It takes seven minutes to drive to Ivan’s house. Seven minutes with me chewing my bottom lip, worried. As soon as MJ parks the car, I jump out and wave at her, then jog up the path that leads to the house, my worry increasing by the second. I’m about to ring the bell when the door flies open, revealing Gage.
“Hey, princess.” He pulls me into a hug before stepping back. He scratches his forehead, which makes me even more nervous than I was before I left the dorm.
“What’s going on? Where’s Ivan? He called me and told me to come here—”
“Okay, relax,” he soothes, guiding me into the living room. Mesh’s gaze snaps up in my direction, and I say hi. He just stares at me and mumbles something before returning his focus to the television screen.
Mesh is like a dark hole where words go to die. He’s intriguing and broody. If we were put in the same room, we’d totally kill each other with our silence.
“Where’s Ivan?” I ask again, glancing around the room.
“I’m up here.” His voice travels from the second floor, and I turn and bound up the stairs.
He pushes away from the wall just as I step into the hallway, walking forward to meet me in the middle.
“You’re freaking me out, Iv. What’s going on?”
He stops in front of the door to his room with his hand on the door handle. He takes a deep breath, his other hand rubbing his nape. “Please don’t hate me, okay?”
“Only two things would make me hate you: being an asshole to MJ and inviting clowns to my party.”
“You don’t like clowns?” he asks with a lopsided smile that seems forced.
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I mean—”
“Ivan!” I interrupt him. “You’re making me nervous. I don’t do nervous.”
“He’s here,” he blurts out. “Sol. He’s here.” He jerks his chin to the closed door on his right.
My thoughts come to an abrupt halt, and my heart picks up a fast beat, racing inside my chest. I inhale deeply, but it’s choppy, and my brain is still trying to catch up. “S-Sol? He’s here?” I glance at the door, then back at Ivan.
He nods.
Oh, my God. What’s he doing here?
Different scenarios flash through my head as my knees struggle to hold me up. Did he finally change his mind about us?
“You don’t have to see him if you—”
“I want to see him,” I blurt out.
Ivan sighs, plants his palm on the door, and pushes it open. I’m trying to breathe properly, but my lungs to do their job. My heart has never raced so fast; I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate.
My gaze lands on Sol, sitting on Ivan’s bed. He jumps to his feet, his eyes on me. His chest rises and falls quickly. My gaze devours him: the way his eyes rove over me, the way he wipes his hands on his jeans, then yanks the cap off his head and rubs his palm over his—wait, what did he do to his hair? Gone are the dark brown locks of hair. His hair is cropped short, which brings his features into focus.