I’m running my hands through my hair when her words register. “Hold up. You talked toJosiebefore you talked to me?” I can’t lie, that kinda hurts.
But Mel’s not bothered. “If I teach you nothing else about relationships, let me be clear about this: There are always three people in your relationship—you, the girl you’re dating, and her bestie. In this case, you’re lucky that Phoebe and Ian can’t know our secret, or else there’d be five of us fake dating.”
“That sounds like advanced level…but back to the point. If you talked to Josie, then you must be thinking about it, about taking what we have and making it real.”
She sighs and pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Ok, yes, I have thought about it. How could I not. Damn you, Franconetti, you’re charming as fuck. And hot. And sexy. And good in bed. And out of it. You’re funny and sweet and you pay attention to me, but you don’t smother me. You’re interested in my life, but you don’t take charge of it. And you’re patient. And kind. And nice to people in the service industry. Dammit, why can’t you just be an asshole? This would be easier ifyou were an asshole.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“But we’re in different places in our lives. You’re just starting college. I’m finishing it. I’m graduating in less than two months.”
“Ok, but that alone doesn’t prevent us from dating,” I say, but I can tell from the look on her face that she’s not buying it.
“It will make things harder. Think about Friday night, Will. Playing video games with Wes, having dinner with your parents, cheering you on, taking you home after the game. That was literally one of the best nights of my life.”
I move to her couch, lifting her legs to claim my spot, and take her hands in mine. “Mine, too, Mel. So why the hell are you breaking up with me?”
“Because it won’t always be like that. Next year, I’ll most likely be in D.C. It’s not halfway across the country or anything, but it might as well be.I won’t be around for every game. I won’t be here for lunch in between classes. I won’t be in bed with you every night.”
“And that will suck,” I say honestly. “But it’s doable. Look at Booker and Ian. And Rosco and his girlfriend. Hell, she’s spending half the semester in Italy, and they’re still going strong. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, Mel, but it’s possible. People do it, and so can we, if we want it bad enough. It’s gonna be a lot of texting, a lot of effort, hell, a lot of fucking phone sex. But I’m in if you are.”
“You make it sound so easy,” she tells me. “But what about when I’m hanging out with guys from my office? Or you’re partying? How will you react in those situations? Because I’m going to socialize. And you’re going to have fun—you’re young and in college and hot as hell. Your life should be wall-to-wall fun for the next few years. You’ll be off doing fun, stupid, immature shit, which is fine. That’s what you should be doing, but—”
I stop her, because I’m not sure I like where this is headed. “I should be? Why? Because I’m young and fun and immature?”
“I’m not saying that. I’m saying I don’t want to hold you back. I don’t want us to make promises we can’t keep.”
Intellectually, I get what she’s saying, but it’s not like one of us is going off to war or something. She’s just graduating. And not for a couple more months. “Here’s a promise I can keep: I want you, Mel; I want this; I want a relationship. And I’m going to do everything in my power to convince you that we’re worth it. Give me one week.”
Mel looks doubtful. “One week? That’s all you need?”
“Yep. I know we said December, but if you want out early, I won’t make you stay. Give me this last week of being my fake girlfriend. Go with me to the charity thing on Friday, just like we planned. Spend the weekend with me. And in one week from today, if you don’t feel what I feel and want what I want? We’ll go our separate ways.”
She’s looking at me like there’s some kind of catch, but there isn’t. “And we can just blame our schedules or whatever. I mean, that makes sense. Chemistry isn’t our issue, obviously. But scheduling conflicts are real.”
“Oh, hell no,” I say, pulling her close. “If we break up, I’m fully blaming it on the fact that you demanded too much from me sexually. You were downright obsessed with my body, and I was afraid it would have an impact on my game, so I had to do the hard thing. I had to break your heart.”
She shoves me playfully, and it’s like the world has begun to spin on its axis once again. “Stop! You are ridiculous.”
“Nah, I’m just yours.” At least for the next week, I am.
41
Mel
I’m in the library, studying for midterms when I get the text.
Will: You busy?
I look at my notes—the same ones I’ve been staring at for the last half hour—and realize that I’m not being remotely productive.
Mel: Not really. What’s up?
Will: Do you still have my hockey hoodie? The white one?
I do have it, actually. It’s one of the many articles of clothing Will has left at my place and I’ve appropriated.
Mel: I might… You want it back? You can get it tonight if you’re still coming over.
