“Who knows?”
Reluctantly, I stuff the teddy bear into his bag, accepting its fate, and head to practice with him. The rhythm of our footsteps on the pavement mirrors my scattered thoughts. Once in the locker room, the familiar scent of sweat and turf grounds me. Out on the field, I try to focus on the drills, but Alli’s words keep lingering. Why would she be so resistant to fake dating? It seemed like a simple solution to me.
I push myself harder in practice, trying to channel the frustration and confusion into something productive. But it doesn’t work; every sprint, every pass, brings me back to that moment by the fire. Maybe she thinks it would be too complicated, or she’s worried about what people would say. We’ve always been close, but not like that. Friends since middle school, sure, but I’ve never seen her look at me the way she did last night. And now I can’t stop wondering if there’s something more to her reluctance. Or maybe it’s me. Maybe she doesn’t trust me enough or still doesn’t forgive me for the shit we went through in high school. The thought stings more than I’d like to admit.
As practice winds down, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something, a key piece of this puzzle. I need to talk to her to get inside her head. This isn’t just about a fake relationship anymore; there’s something deeper at play, something that’s been building for a while.
And I need to figure out what it is.
I shoot off a quick text to my sister.
Me:where’s alli
Serena:???
Me:just tell me
Me:i promise to buy you the bookshelf you’ve been wanting AND i’ll even build it during winter break
Serena:the one with the lamp?!
Me:yeah, that ugly white one
Serena:ok, deal!
Serena:alli doesn’t have night classes, so she should be at the library
Me:which one?
Serena:…
Serena:i’m not sure? she likes to study at different ones
Me:sister, we have like six libraries on campus
Serena:ok and?
Me:i’m not about to run through campus looking for her
Serena:you’re the one who asked where she is and i told you
Serena:that’s as far as my services go
Serena:i don’t keep track of which library she goes to
Serena:that’s what you get for calling my shelf ugly
I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the back of my neck as I weigh my options. With how spread out everything is, running and stopping at each library would be a nightmare. And there’s no way I have the energy to trek up that damn steep hill to the science library.
I slip my phone into my pocket and adjust the straps of my bag as I head out. My mind races, swirling with the things I need to say to her—how to even begin the conversation. It’s not like I can just walk up and say, “Hey, whyreallydon’t you want to fake date me?”
That would probably go over like a lead balloon.
Third library stop, and I’m out of breath. I don’t know what’s more energy consuming, this or being tackled by two linebackers weighing two hundred pounds each. I lean against the door, trying to catch my breath.
Maybe I should invest in a bike to get me around.
I scan the study tables and quiet corners looking for Alli. I start weaving through the rows of bookshelves and study desks, hoping this is the one so I don’t have to climb Mount Everest.
