“You will be,” she says, like it’s already decided, like the universe sent her here just to believe in me.
I glance over at her. Her cheeks pressed to the hot pavement, ponytail fanned out behind her. She’s not looking at me. “You’re gonna leave this place, be famous, probably forget all about me.”
And just like that, something cracks in my chest.
She’s joking—kind of. But her voice is too quiet. She doesn’t believe she’s someone worth remembering, doesn’t know she’s the reason I want to be more in the first place.
“I’d never forget you,” I say. Too fast. Too real.
She turns to face me, eyes wide. They’re honest, brave in a way I don’t know how to be yet. “Promise?”
The air shifts. I’m not sure if it’s the heat or the fact that everything suddenly feels different.
I hold out my pinky. “Promise.”
She links hers with mine, and just like that, it’s sealed.
"Next!" calls the barista, a petite girl with vibrant blue hair, bringing me back to the present.
I step up to the counter. "Two peppermint mochas, please. One with an extra shot."
"That'll be $9.50," the barista says. Handing her my card, I pay for the drinks before I hear another voice.
“You’re Jaxon Montgomery, right? The new football player?”
I turn to find a brunette standing beside me, the table of her friends behind her watching our interaction closely.
“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” I give her a small grin. “What’s up?”
“My friends and I were just wondering about your status?” A confident smirk settles on her face, and I get the feeling this must be a common conversation for her.
My status? “Well, hopefully a starter.”
She laughs, placing a hand on my bicep. “Not that status. Like, your relationship status?”
Oh. Ooohhh, I see what this is. Letting out a chuckle, my hand moves to rub the back of my neck while simultaneously getting her hand off me. I hate awkward situations.
“Single, but I’m not really looking for anything right now,” I tell her, really hoping my drinks are ready so I can leave this encounter stat. “Just here to play football.”
“Well, if you change your mind,” she pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket, “here’s my number.”
I plaster on my best fake smile, really just wanting this to end. “Thanks.”
“Order for Jaxon?” the barista calls my name, right on cue. I grab the drinks and head out the door.
As I make my way across campus, I see a few of the guys from the team and give them a nod. The math building looms ahead, and my steps slow as I push open the door, the scent of coffee mingling with the sterile smell of chalk and whiteboard markers. It's time to face the music and hope this small peace offering is enough so Mads at least doesn’t bite my head off. First step is just to get my best friend back, to get her to let me back in.
I slide into my seat in the back, my leg bouncing restlessly as I check my watch for the hundredth time. I drum my fingers on the desk, willing her to walk through the door.
Students trickle in, their chatter a dull roar in my ears. I barelyregister their presence, my gaze fixed on the entrance. Then, suddenly, there she is.
Madison steps into the room, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her face. My breath catches in my throat. Her expression is carefully neutral, her movements measured as she scans the room. When her hazel eyes land on mine, I feel a jolt of electricity course through my body.
She hesitates for a moment, then walks up and takes her seat next to me.
"Morning," I say, earning a sideways look from her. “I, uh, got you a coffee."
“Jaxon…” she sighs. “You didn’t have to.”
