Letting out a groan, I roll over on my uncomfortable dorm mattress and stare up at the popcorn ceiling, thinking.
What the hell is wrong with me? It’s not out of the ordinary for me to skip class, but to skip class in order to avoid a girl because I’m embarrassed is out of character. Normally I wouldn’t bat an eye or give a fuck if I hurt someone’s feelings, and I certainly wouldn’t go out of my way to avoid a girl—especially one I like.
What the hell are you doing to me, Finch?
>> <<
I force myself to take another gulp of the cheap, lukewarm beer in my cup, hoping the alcohol will help take off some of the edge—since working out, an almost hookup, a cold shower, and my hand clearly didn’t do it for me. But all it seems to do is sit uncomfortably in my stomach.
God I’m pathetic.
Still, I nurse my beer, my eyes scanning the crowd before me as I sink deeper into the old, worn couch. I thought it would do me some good to get out and try to clear my head, so I tagged along with Chase and most of the team to another frat party. I feel like I’ve cut back on my partying a lot lately, and it was time to go out and have some mind-numbing fun with the boys.
Although I seem to be having anything but fun.
“Why so glum, chum?” Brennen asks, plopping down next to me.
I jump slightly, some of the beer sloshing out of my cup and onto my shirt as I was midsip. “It’s nothing,” I grumble bitterly, aggressively swiping at the liquid on my shirt.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Brennen taunts.
“Fuck off.”
Brennen’s thick brows shoot up to his hairline. “All right, someone’s testy.”
Silence, aside from the party raging around us, falls.
“Is everything all right between you and Liv?” he asks quietly, genuine concern in his voice.
I snap my head in his direction. Man, he really knows how to hit a guy where it hurts, huh?
“Why do you ask?” I retort a little too harshly.
His lips purse into a thin line, hazel eyes sympathetic. “I heard about your little blowup in lab the other day.”
Great. My blowup has becomenewsand is spreading around campus. Fucking fantastic.
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose in annoyance.
“Look, man, I know you like her—”
“How do you know I like her?” I cut in quickly, probably too quickly.
He gives me a knowing smile, and I avoid his gaze, pretending to be interested in a hangnail on my thumb. “It’s pretty obvious. You making her wear your jersey to the homecoming game, spending a lot of time with her, the way you look at her—”
I sigh in response. No point in denying it.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I fucked up.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t un–fuck it up,” he counters.
I shrug pathetically, sulking.
Brennen places a strong, comforting hand on my shoulder. “You had one minor blowup. Nothing an apology and explanation can’t fix.”
“Yo, Brennen!” a deep voice booms from the dining room, where the beer pong tables are lined up. Brennen and I look up to see Bodie from the basketball team eagerly waving him over.
“Wanna play?” Brennen asks me, hopeful.
