by Ella Fields
“Fuck, we’ve missed class.”
Getting up, I stood naked, stretching my hands over my head. “I’ve gotta go—”
The look she shot me—hurt veiled beneath hostility—made my mouth shut. “Yeah, do what you do best.”
She stood, opening and slamming drawers while I tugged my briefs and jeans on, knowing I deserved the venom snaking into my chest.
I grabbed her around the waist before she disappeared into the bathroom. “Wait.”
“No thanks.” She removed herself from my hold and stepped around me.
“I have to go because I was supposed to take my medication two hours ago.” She stopped in the doorway to the bathroom. “I’ll come back later if you’ll have me.”
“Toby, I’m not going to say last night was a mistake,” she said with her back still facing me. She laid her clothes down on the vanity, then removed the elastic that was doing nothing to contain her hair after last night. “I think it needed to happen. But you already know I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m sorry.”
She looked at me then, and my eyes didn’t even drop to her C-cup breasts or the luscious curves of her hips. No, the remorse and honesty in her green eyes socked me square in the gut, rendering me speechless. The tone of her voice, sincere and defeated. “You’re serious?”
A sad smile touched her mouth, and her thumb moved up to her bottom lip, brushing over it. “You know I am. Please, go home.”
The door was shut in my face, the shower turning on a minute later as I just stood there, my shirt in my hand and my jeans undone, wondering if she’d open the door and see the tears I felt pooling in my eyes. I blinked and two raced down my cheeks, so I lifted my t-shirt, swiping them away before shrugging it on.
“And Toby?” Her voice sounded through the door. I didn’t respond, knowing she knew I was still there. “Keep being more than okay. Kay?”
I laughed. Laughed despite feeling like I wanted to curl into a ball and weep. I needed out of there, and quickly scanned the room for my shoes before realizing they were out in the hall. That was when my eyes fell on her nightstand.
A familiar paperback sat there, and the tears vanished. “Yeah,” I finally said. “Okay.”
“What is wrong with you?” Quinn asked, tossing his pen down on the dining table with a huff. “We’re all snowed under with this shit, and you’re fucking smiling?”
He eyed me up and down where I was sitting on the kitchen counter, flipping through my book at all the pages Pippa had dog-eared. I should’ve been mad about that, but I was just glad she’d read it. Or stolen it. Whatever.
The exact same chapters I’d read to her all those months ago.
“Can’t a dude smile without getting the third degree?” I closed the book, checking the time on my phone.
“I guess, sure. Don’t you need to study harder than the rest of us, though?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing all these weeks?” I jumped down from the counter. “I’ve got this.”
Quinn scoffed, then rubbed his hands down his face with a groan. “Who needs to know algebra in real life anyway? Like, come on.”
“Plenty of people.” I slipped my phone into my pocket, racing upstairs to tuck my book away in my room and change.
When I returned, I grabbed a yogurt from the fridge, yanking the lid off and tossing it before tipping the whole thing into my mouth.
“Don’t need a spoon?”
“In a hurry,” I said, wiping my lips and chucking the empty container into the trash. Opening the fridge back up, I grabbed a bottle of water, then retrieved my keys from the counter.
“Daisy said you and Pippa still aren’t together.”
“We’re not,” I said, ignoring the way that made my muscles tighten.
Quinn drummed his fingers on the table. “You’ve given up?”
“I’m not giving up, but she doesn’t need me right now.”
His face screwed up. “What do you mean? You’re giving her space?”
“I’m the worst thing for her right now. Right now, she just needs herself and time.” I flipped him off and strode to the door.
“Where you going?” Quinn hollered. “Take me with you. I’m fucking dying here!”
“To see a man about a ball, and suck it up, buttercup.”
The sun blasted through the windshield, but rain clouds were moving in fast. I hoped I’d get enough time to play a little before it arrived.
Ten minutes later, I eased off the accelerator, approaching the gravel lot of the local football club. The coach of the senior team was waiting for me outside the club office, a ball cap covering his head, and a smile at the ready when I walked over to greet him.
“Roger Hill,” he said, his grip firm as he shook my hand. “You must be Toby.”
“I am. Thanks for meeting with me.”
Taking his hand back, he gave me a brief inspection. “You look familiar.”
Swallowing my pride and my regret, I informed him. “Played wide receiver for the Tomahawks last year and the year before. That was, um, before I got kicked off the team.”
“I know.”
I frowned. “You know?”
He tilted a shoulder. “Was just seeing if you’d tell me yourself.”
I sucked my lips into my mouth for a moment, choosing how to play this. I chose honesty. “Look, I suffer with some mental health stuff. I’ve spent a long time working on it since leaving the team. I don’t want to cause trouble, and I don’t even want to go pro.”
Roger tilted his head, a slow smile stretching his wrinkled face. “Then what do you want?”
“I just want to play the game I love. To have fun again.”
It’d been two weeks since I’d kicked Toby out of my apartment.
And since he’d reclaimed his book.
I’d seen him around campus, usually from a distance, but gone were the days when he’d follow me or try to talk to me.
If he saw me now, I was given a sad smile or a tentative wave.
My stomach bubbled with regret as what-ifs plagued my mind every night before I fell asleep. But oddly enough, since spewing my hate at him, I’d felt a little lighter since.
I took the customer’s change, dropping it into the till before handing him back a dollar. “Have a spectacular day,” I said with a bright smile.
The guy looked puzzled, then nodded before walking out the door.
I was washing my hands when Tim emerged. “Maybe you don’t need to try to look so happy. Maybe just be you.”
After wiping my hands on a towel, I tossed it into the trash, punching the air when it sunk straight in. Tim was smirking when I looked at him. “I’m actually feeling … okay.” I bobbled my head from side to side, weighing my words for some truth. I found some, a kernel, but it was enough for me.
“This is good news.”
“It is,” I agreed, watching Tim stroke his moustache. “But …?”
“But what?” he asked.
Biting my lip, I tried not to laugh. “But you want to say something else.”
“Oh, yes. Why do you still make the customers look funny?”
“Part of my charm, I guess.”
The door opened, and Tim chuckled, walking over to the sink to wash some jars and scoops.
“Well, hello.” I placed a hand on my hip, leaning my other into the counter.
“Hello, indeed,” Renee said, eyeing the rows of ice cream with her finger tapping her chin.
“Would you like something, or are you just window shopping?”
Tim made a coughing sound, and I laughed. “Relax, I know her.”
Grabbing a napkin, he patted his face with it, shaking his head as he retreated to the back of the store again.
Renee smirked, her lips glossed and shiny. “Speaking of shopping. My family’s got this charity thing coming up. I need someone to suffer through the tedious task of trying on gowns with me.”
“You don’t seem the type to find a task like that too ted
ious.”
She inspected her nails. “True. But misery loves company.”
“I’m not miserable.”
“Sure. Hey, can you make me a vanilla shake?”
“You paying? We don’t give friend discounts here.”
The look she gave me said, “Really?”
I made her shake, taking her ten-dollar bill and keeping the remaining six dollars as a tip. She didn’t care. “Oh, my God. Best thing I’ve tasted all fucking month.”
Putting the milk away in the fridge beneath the counter, I informed her, “I don’t really like shopping.”
“I know.”
I leaned over the counter, tilting my head as she sucked back some of her shake. “You do, do you? Pray tell, how?”
Using her shake, she gestured at me. “Just know how to pick ’em.”
“Uh-huh.” I smirked. “So why ask me?”
“Because I know you’ll give me an honest opinion.”
Blowing out a loud breath, I pondered it. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do after I got done here. “I finish at twelve. Meet me out front.”
With a wink, she strutted outside, hips swaying and posture perfect. I glanced down at my blue apron, spying some chocolate powder on my chest. Shrugging, I brushed it off before an older man and who looked to be his daughter strolled inside.
When I left an hour later, Renee was sitting on a bench a little way down the sidewalk, fingers tapping on her phone.
“Have you been waiting the whole time?”
She glanced up, green eyes meeting my own. “No.” Tucking her phone into her designer purse, she stood. “Went back to my dorm to finish a paper.”
We made our way to her black Range Rover parked by the curb. “Okay, I can’t help it.” I clicked my seat belt on, shoving my bag between my feet. “Why do you live in a dorm when you drive this?”
She slammed her door, tossing her purse into the back seat. “Long story.”
The car started with a luxurious, quiet purr. “We’ve got time.”
She pulled out, making a U-turn and heading back toward my apartment building. “I came here with Callum.”
Leaning forward, I dug around in my purse for my mints, flipping the lid open and offering her one. She accepted, and I sucked as she spoke around hers. “We got together in high school.”
“Sweethearts,” I said, a sly smile tugging at my lips at the picture-perfect image of the two of them.
Her snort gave me pause. “Something like that. Anyway, he leased an apartment, and I moved in with him.”
“Whoa, right after high school?”
Her smile was sad, but she didn’t deny it. “When it all went to hell, I got a dorm room.”
I didn’t know what to ask first. Whether I should ask about what she did with Mike, Callum’s best or ex-best friend. Did guys even have ex-best friends? I shook my head because it was irrelevant. I went with my second thought. “Why didn’t you lease another apartment? Not judging or anything, but …” I waved a hand around the flashy interior of her car.
She laughed, a little raspy. I guessed the dudes found that appealing. Hell, I found it appealing. “Because of our parents.”
She stopped at a set of lights outside the small mall.
“What do you mean?” I turned in my seat to face her, just as a dog waltzed its merry way out onto the road.
Renee leaned forward over the steering wheel. “Shit, it’s that dog again.”
The dog was sniffing a parked car’s tire, then promptly lifted its leg and marked his territory all over it.
“It’s been wandering around here for a while now. Students have complained and everything.”
The light turned green, and she eased off the brake. “Wait, pull over.”
“Are you kidding? That thing is huge! No one goes near him. He’s always growling.”
I was already out of the car, slamming the door and walking over to where the dog was trotting up the sidewalk, heading straight for me.
It stopped, then tried to skirt around me. It looked like a Rottweiler cross, but I wasn’t sure due to how thin it was. “Hey, buddy,” I said, stepping in front of it.
The low growl it gave me had my eyes widening. He was thin but still big, and I was clearly interrupting his mission.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a guy walking toward me, eating a kebab. “Hi, sorry, but I need that.”
I snatched it from him as he gaped at me. “Hey!”
I whistled at the dog who was about to walk back out onto the road to evade me, then it paused, sniffing the air as I approached with my stolen goods.
Renee was getting out of the car, the hazards flashing while it was parked in an emergency drop-off spot. “Are you crazy?” she hissed. “He’ll probably bite your hand off.”
“I don’t think so. Open the trunk.”
“What?” Then she realized what I was doing. “Oh no, you don’t. He’s not getting in my car.”
Picking at the kebab, I tossed the dog some beef, walking backward toward her car. The dog practically inhaled it before walking after me, licking its mouth. “Shit, now. Open it and we’ll drop him off at the pound.”
“You’re cleaning any mess it makes.”
Once I neared the trunk, I second-guessed myself. “Do you think it’ll fit in there?”
“Going to have to. It’s not getting in the back seat with those claws.”
I tossed the kebab into the back, whistling and patting the carpeted interior. He didn’t need to be told twice and leaped in. I cringed as I heard his back claws scrape over the bumper.
Renee cursed, then shut the door, forcing the dog to hunker down.
He must’ve eaten the kebab in a flash because he spent the drive to the pound moaning and whining. “Think he gets car sick?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood and erase the pinched expression on Renee’s face.
“Don’t even. Let’s just get him dropped off. You owe me two hours at the mall now.”
“Deal.”
We pulled in, got out, and promptly looked at one another with identical expressions of cluelessness. “I guess we’d better go see if someone can help us get him into one of those cages or something,” I said, pointing at the row of them that lined the lot outside the facility.
“Don’t take too long. He might piss in there!” Renee hollered as I made haste to the front gates.
An older woman with kind eyes and graying hair came out to greet me, and when I told her the situation, she held up a finger and went back inside, returning with a leash.
“Oh, this is Bruce,” she said, quickly tucking the collared leash around his neck. “I should really get a muzzle for him.”
“You know him?” I asked as Bruce jumped down to the packed dirt.
“Sure do. This will be his second stay here.” She looked down at him as he growled, his hackles rising when he looked around at his surroundings. “Sadly, it’ll probably be his last.”
“What does that mean?”
Renee bumped my elbow with hers. “He probably won’t get rehomed.”
“What, why?”
The woman looked up, her eyes bouncing back and forth between us. “You mean besides his charming personality? His first family surrendered him. He tried to eat their new kitten’s leg. Shattered some bones with one swift bite, apparently. And clearly, his second one didn’t agree with him either.”
The Rottweiler looked resigned, slumping to the ground. Or perhaps he was staging a showdown, declaring his intentions. He wasn’t going back in there.
“Come on.” She tugged gently on his lead, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Can I pet him?” I asked. I glanced at her name tag. “Estelle, I’m Pippa. We found him playing chicken downtown and lured him to the car with a kebab.”
Estelle smiled down at Bruce. “Not surprised. He’s smart, but he thinks the world will stop for him, this one.” She sighed, looking back at me with a nod. “Let him sniff you first. I’d rather wait till he had
the muzzle on, but he’s not known to attack people.”
Renee looked terrified as I slowly kneeled, extending my hand to Bruce’s nose. He met me halfway, sniffing it, and I tried not to flinch when he started licking me. “Must be the kebab smell.”
Estelle snickered.
Renee kneeled next to me but didn’t touch him. “I guess he’s kinda cute, if you dig that whole ‘I can kill baby kittens in two seconds’ thing.”
“Don’t listen to her,” I told him, lifting my hand to rub his head. His eyes shut, tail starting to flop from side to side. “You’re not cute. You’re beautiful.”
We followed Estelle into the facility, dogs barking and some faint mewling coming from a small building near the front office.
“Well, thanks for dropping him off.”
“No worries,” I said, still watching Bruce as she tied his leash to a long bench seat in the waiting area before rounding the counter. “Will you tell me if he gets rehomed?”
I didn’t know why I felt like I needed to know; I just did.
“Sure. Here, put your number on this pad.” She scooted it over to me, and I grabbed a pen to jot it down. As I handed it back, I saw a neatly stacked, small pile of paper when I peeked over the counter. Volunteer applications.
I pointed at them. “Actually, can I grab one of those?”
Renee and I never did go shopping, for which I was thankful. But I did have coffee with her afterward, trying to dig more details out of her about Callum. She didn’t give much away and seemed stuck in her own thoughts, so I gathered that the small window of opportunity to pry had then closed.
Being allergic to cats made volunteering at the shelter interesting, but I took some antihistamines, and Estelle kindly gave me tasks away from the cattery most of the time. Bruce hadn’t been adopted yet, which was concerning, but I knew I couldn’t take him. Not when I lived in an apartment. Besides that, I just didn’t have the time.
I walked him when I was there and put up with him slobbering all over me. He was a surly bastard and didn’t like most of the handlers, but once he really got to know you, he turned into a giant, needy teddy bear who often tried to suffocate and smother you. If I sat on the ground, he sat on me, and he didn’t like being told to move.
