by Ashley Love
"You wouldn't understand, obviously." He glowers at me when he comes back up. Before I can return the look, he lowers himself back down to the floor.
"Obviously," I sneer. "Whatever. I'm going to take a shower."
"I won't be here when you get back," he says, still on the floor.
"I don't remember asking for your schedule," I snip. I gather my stuff for the shower and head for the door. "You don't have to tell me every time you leave the room. But I'll see you at the game tonight."
Blake freezes, hands falling to the ground to hold himself up. "You're coming to the game?" he asks, completely emotionless.
I shrug. "Don't have a choice. Cadence is pushy, and she told me I was coming with her."
"Right." Blake nods, expression still unreadable.
I slip out the door, but just before it closes shut behind me, I hear a thud and look back to see Blake lying flat against the ground, arm thrown over his face as he lets out an exhausted, stress filled groan.
When I get back to the room, he's in the exact same position, only he's fast asleep. I bite the inside of my lip, considering leaving him like that. I'm not Blake's babysitter, okay? But I go over to him anyway and kick him lightly in the shins.
"Blake," I call. "You need to at least get in bed."
His eyes open slowly, lids heavy. He reaches out a hand while yawning without covering his mouth. "Help me up?"
I groan. Seriously? I put out my hand, and then I'm being tugged to the ground. Blake breaks the fall with his body, me landing directly on top of him. I don't stay there for long though, because he's turning us over easily, trapping me against the floor. He slides a hand through my hair, grinning and suddenly wide awake.
"You're still wet."
"I just got out of the shower," I say, barely enough air in my lungs. "Now get off me. I have to get to the library. I have this group project to work on, and I can't be late."
Blake rolls his eyes. "Nothing I can do to persuade you not to go?" he asks.
"No," I say with conviction. "Now get off me." I shove at his shoulders until his weight disappears. I take a halting breath and get up, just as Blake grabs his own bag of shower stuff before stomping out of the room, slamming the door behind himself. What the fuck caused that?
Whatever. It's not my problem, whatever it is. I have to hurry to brush my hair and change before running out the door, and I don't have time to worry about Blake. Plus, I don't worry about Blake in general, whether I have time to or not. Right?
Ugh.
No matter how much rushing I do, somehow I'm still late to the group meeting. And somehow that is only the beginning. Since I'm late, the others send me off to get coffee, which makes no sense to me because, like, shouldn't someone be filling me in on what I missed instead of making me miss even more? But I don't complain because they're right, I should have been there on time like the rest of them.
At the coffee shop the barista screws up one of the orders and I have to go back, and the line is so long that by the time I get the new drink the others are cold. And then I go to bring the coffee into the library, but Nancy stops me with a regretful, apologetic, "Remember the rules, Aubrey."
"No food or drinks," I deadpan. There's no way the group I was meeting with didn't know that, so what the fuck was the point of them sending me to get the drinks?
With an annoyed sound I step back outside and text Lisa, the only person in the group whose number I'd thought to get. She says they forgot about the drink ban, and tells me to just leave the drinks.
About twenty dollars worth of drinks, just left there on the steps outside the library, which is such a waste that it makes my hands curl into fists. And when I get to the table at the back of the library, they're all chuckling while pretending to work. It makes me want to scream, it really does, but I also feel like crying, for some absurd reason. It's like they've decided that one of us has to be the butt of the joke today, and since I was late, I'm it.
But they can't just exclude me from everything, not when the group project is such a big part of our final grade. So when they divvy out things for people to do, I get stuck with research, but at least they're letting me help.
"We'll need that done by tomorrow when we meet up," Jason says. "The research is integral to the rest of the project. Without it, we can't move forward."
I blink at him. "You've asked me to read three different books," I say quietly. "That's not even possible."
"Make it possible then."
I open my mouth, but the four of them give me expectant, challenging looks, like they want me to fail, for some reason. Like they want me to admit I can't do it. And while I have no idea what I did to earn this kind of treatment, I haven't lived with Blake for months without learning how to school my anger. So I take calming breaths, scoop up my books and the rest of the stuff I'd brought with me, and nod curtly. "I'll have it done by tomorrow."
I feel like hell when I get back to the room. All I want to do is sleep forever, but I can't. I have to start working now, if I want to ever get this done. And I have to get it done tonight, if only to prove to those pricks that I can.
By the time Cadence knocks on my door before bursting into the room, my head is killing me and my hand is cramped from taking notes.
"What do you want?" I croak. "I'm busy."
Cadence gives me a very pointed look, raising her eyebrows while she does. It takes me almost a whole minute to notice the paint streaking her cheeks and the shirt she's wearing with the school colors.
"The game," she adds, in case I'm too slow to remember. "The one you agreed to come to."
I rub a hand over my face. "I can't," I say. "I really, really can't, Cadence."
"Why the hell not?" she demands. "You've known about it for days!"
"That was before I was swamped with work," I snap. "I can't. I have to read three fucking books by tomorrow at nine, and I don't even know how I'm going to manage that even if I work non-stop until then. I don't have time to go to a stupid fucking football game."
Cadence blinks in surprise. "But you told Blake you'd go," she tries feebly. "He'll be disappointed."
I scoff. "He'd be happier if I didn't go," I respond. "A lot happier. And how did you even know that I told him?"
"None of your business," she says with a grin. "Now seriously, put that shit away and get ready. We have, like, five minutes. Emma's saving our seats, and it'll take us time to get to them, and we don't want to miss the beginning."
Why couldn't I have made friends and roomed with someone more like me? I love Cadence, I honestly do, but Cadence doesn't get it. She slacks almost as much as Blake, most of the time. She doesn't understand that I can't just beg off work and do it later. It's not an option for me.
"I'm not going," I say, both exhausted and apologetic. "I really can't."
Maybe it's how stressed I look, maybe it's how exhausted I sound, or maybe it's just Cadence being a good friend, but she nods slowly at me, already backing out of the room. "It's fine," she says. "If you need anything, text me. And if you change your mind, we'll save you a seat."
"I won't," I reply, "but thanks."
Cadence shuts the door behind herself, and I rest my face against the open book, letting out a long, drawn out groan of frustration. As soon as that's out of the way, I lift my head and get back to work.
The sky outside my small window goes from a bright, cloudless blue to a darkening navy, stars already pricking the sky despite the fact that the sun is still feebly hanging in the air. I find myself staring out the window for longer than I can really afford to, but then I shake my head and get back to work.
Only, the longer I work the angrier I get. Why do I always have to be the one sacrificing something? Why do I always have to give up something to focus on school and work and everything while everyone else gets to have a good time? How is that fair? And maybe I didn't even want to go to the game. Maybe I don't give a flying fuck about it, but it's the
principle of the matter, isn't it?
And that train of thought is why I find myself slipping into an uncomfortable plastic seat, cramped between Cadence and some guy that does not look happy to see me there.
"You came!" Cadence says happily. She slings an arm over my shoulder. "I knew you would."
"I'm going to be so fucked tomorrow because of this," I admit. "But yeah, I'm here."
Cadence pulls me closer, and Emma leans forward in her seat to grin at me and say, "Blake's number seventeen, in case you're wondering."
My eyes flit over the field. I have no idea what the fuck is happening, honestly, but I spot Blake in the distance, his jersey spread taut over his protective pads, the pants of his uniform hugging him tightly. I haven't ever actually seen him in full gear before but it's, uh...It's a good look on him, actually.
"Why would I care?" I say anyway. "I'm not here for Blake."
"Sure you're not," Cadence teases.
"I'm here because you didn't give me much of a choice," I remind her. "And I was ready to pull my hair out from my work. I needed a break."
Despite those words, I keep my eyes on Blake the whole game. People cheer, people boo, and I can't tell what makes them do one or the other. All I know is that Blake's a red and white blur on the field at times, and at one point someone slams hard into him and everyone in the immediate area goes quiet. I stand up, not exactly sure why I do, hands clenched into fists. I don't sit back down until Blake's back on his feet.
When the whole team converges near the benches, Blake jogs towards the group and pulls his helmet off. There are so many people in the stands, and there's no way he notices me out of all of them, but he's looking in my direction, a grin on his face until Lucas elbows him in the side.
At some point more than half of the people in the stands erupt in cheers, and I look around, dazed, about ready to cover my ears from the onslaught of sound.
"What the fuck happened?" I yell at Cadence.
"We won!"
Maybe attending football games on a regular basis isn't something I'm about to do, but even I have to admit that there's something...thrilling about it. I'm going to have to look up online later to see what I'm missing, to figure out what happened on the field below so that next time (if there's a next time) I'll feel a little more in the loop.
Getting out of the stands isn't exactly fun, though. There are so many people, everyone rushing to get out first. Cadence's hands are on my shoulders, but I'm still having difficulty moving through the throng of people. Somehow we manage it though, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I'm no longer worried about being trampled.
"So?" Cadence asks. "Fun or what?"
I shrug, lips twitching. I zip my sweater up higher and say, "It's freezing out here."
"What about the game, though?" Emma asks. "Did you like it?"
Again, I shrug. "I don't really know what happened."
"Neither do I," she admits. "I've sat through countless games and I'm still lost."
"I've explained the game to you hundreds of times," Cadence says with a frown. "How do you still not get it?"
"It's hard to listen to what you're saying when you talk about things that you like," Emma replies. "You get excited and I'm too busy watching the way you wave your hands or your eyes get all bright; it's cute."
Cadence glares at her, and I laugh. "If you think I'm going to forgive you for ignoring me," she says, "just because you called me cute, you're sadly mistaken."
"I need to get back to my room," I say, before this can turn into an actual argument. Or before they can do that annoying thing they do where they tease each other and act like there's no one else in the world but the two of them. "I've got work to do."
"Okay," Cadence says, but she's got her eyes on Emma. "I think we're going to go get something to eat. If we get pizza I'll drop a slice off for you later."
"Thanks," I say. "See you."
Cadence and Emma barely bother waving me off. They head in the opposite direction, while I head for my dorm. Just like there always is, people are loud in the halls, celebrating and partying (even though alcohol is banned from the dorms, technically, but that doesn't ever seem to stop anyone). I don't let it get to me as I walk down the hall, head ducked. As soon as I get to my room, I find my iPod and headphones, and I crank the volume up so all I can hear is my music before I get back to work.
I figure it's well into the night when Blake comes home, since he never gets back early on game days, and it feels like I've been working for days on this stupid reading. When I look at the alarm clock, it's only a little after ten, though. Which is really weird, but I don't have the time to wonder why the fuck Blake's here. I don't have the time to even acknowledge Blake's presence; so I don't.
Until he pulls out my headphones while falling onto my bed. I jump, startled, and glare down at him. "What do you want? Why are you even here?"
Blake yawns. "Tired," he explains. "Need to sleep. Can't party tonight."
"So sleep," I hiss. I go to put my headphones back in, but Blake reaches for them again. I groan, more to myself than at him. "I really don't have time for your shit right now, okay? I'm swamped."
Blake props himself up on his elbow. "With what?" he asks.
"This group project shit," I respond. "They piled on the work for me because, I don't know, they all hate me or something. I don't have time to blink right now, let alone talk with you. So if you're going to sleep, do it. But if you're going to stay awake and bug me, I swear I'll kill you."
"Okay, fine." Blake collapses against the bed, like he's actually going to leave me alone. But then he asks, "Did you have fun at the game?"
"What? I—I don't know. I guess." I shake my head. "Leave me alone."
Just before I get my headphones back in, I hear a soft, whispered, "I'm happy that you came."
I don't have time to think about it, though. Don't have time to dwell on what that means, why he would say it. I get back to work and forget all about Blake Alexander.
14
On Sunday I don't wake up to my alarm. On Sunday I wake to someone gently shaking my shoulders, while my face is pressed against the inside of a book, bending one of the pages. It takes me a long, disoriented moment to realize who I am, where I am, and who's touching me
"Aubrey," Blake says softly. "Your alarm went off half an hour ago. I don't think you meant to fall asleep."
I blearily look up at him, and then I sneeze. It's the sneeze that wakes me up. I only just have time to cover my face before it happens, and it seems to rattle my entire brain, which feels like it weighs ten times the amount it had yesterday. Yesterday, when I'd fallen asleep in the middle of my work. I remember shutting my eyes at four for just a second and—
"No," I moan. "No, no..." My eyes cut to the alarm clock, reading the blinking 9:13. "I'm late. I'm fucking late. I need to..." I jump up, pushing Blake out of the way as I gather my things. "Fuck, how did I fall asleep?"
"You look exhausted," Blake says gently. He puts a hand on my shoulder, stilling me. "I think you should go back to bed."
"Go back to bed," I repeat. "Yeah, sure, that's exactly what I'm going to do." I roll my eyes and flit across the room, grabbing my bag. I stuff everything inside it. "I don't have a choice. I know that you don't give a fuck about this shit, but some of us can't just coast by because we're good at throwing a ball or something. Some of us actually have to work, Blake, okay? I know it must be fucking awesome in your world where you can just sleep in all day and not do anything, but I can't—"
Blake gets back into his bed, pulls the blankets over himself, and turns his back to me without a word.
I hurry to pull a hat on over my horrible-looking hair, and then I'm running out the door, not sparring a single look back at him. When I get to the library I'm breathless and sweating, even if it's freezing outside. I only have time to lift my hand in a short wave for Nancy before I'm hurrying through the room, heading for the tables at the
back.
The whole group is there already, bent over books and papers and the works. I skid to a halt, bag slipping off my shoulder, and they all look up at me before the first one cracks, letting out a smothered laugh. And then they're all laughing, looking at me like I'm crazy.
"Christ," one of them says. "Did you really try to do all that work last night?"
"We were joking, Aubrey!" another one says. "No one actually expected you to do all that."
"We thought you'd realize," Lisa adds, the only one who looks a little guilty. "Didn't think you'd actually attempt it."
I blink at them. "W-what?"
"We have until next week," Lisa explains. "You realize that, right? Yesterday we were all just exchanging numbers, really. Talking about the outline of what we were going to do. No one's started anything yet. Today's meeting was going to focus on distributing the research work, and then Tuesday we're all going to meet up and pile it together."
I just... "What? But I-I was up until four because—"
"Shit, she really did! She actually tried to do it."
Slowly, I collapse in a seat. The other three continue laughing at my expense, but Lisa pats my shoulder and give me a wide-eyed, apologetic look. "It was just a joke," she says. "Sorry if we took it too far."
But they don't seem all that sorry, really. I'm just too fucking exhausted to get upset over it. So instead I sink lower in my chair and try to pay attention to everything they say. And as soon as I can, I leave, not saying a goodbye to any of them.
It isn't until I'm back in my room, shutting the door behind myself that I crack. I make it to the bed, dropping my bag in the middle of the room as I go, and then collapse onto it. I bury my head in my hands and try to steady the burning in my eyes, the lump in my throat. Fuck, I feel like an idiot. Or maybe I'm just so overtired that I'm getting emotional. That happens, sometimes, but it doesn't really matter why it's happening. What matters is that it is happening. I'm crying.
"Aubrey."
"Not right now, Blake," I plead. "Just...make fun of me later, okay?"
