1
EVER
I overdressed, and that was my first mistake. It’s three in the afternoon, and the sun beats down on us as my friends and I sit on the bleachers, waiting for the rugby team to start practice.
Sweat beads form on my forehead, and my face is flaming, like opening an oven door and getting hit with a blast of heat. I pull the gray hoodie off and knot the sleeves over my stomach.
A breeze cuts through the heat and whispers over my bare arms. A memory surfaces of watching from the bleachers, my crush teaching the neighborhood kids how to bat and catch balls. Carlos looked mouthwatering with his backward baseball cap, loose navy-blue T-shirt, and gray sweatpants.
I bring the hoodie’s sleeves to my nose and inhale.
Carlos’s hoodie still smells the same as it did six years ago, when he loaned it to me at a party where we first met. It smells like sweat and motor oil. Carlos loved working on cars.
The hoodie’s gone through the wash several times, but the smell doesn’t disappear, and I’m glad. Pictures saved on my phone are great, but something I can hold in my hand and remember his scent by . . . It’s priceless.
But today isn’t about remembering Carlos. It’s my friends’ and my last year of college, and I want to be with them as much as possible before we graduate and leave for wherever our next adventure takes us.
My second mistake was indulging in my friend Arie’s ask. Had I been pulling hours at the bakery, I wouldn’t have overheard my other friend Gwen. What she says changes the course of my life.
“Remind me again why we took the day off from earning a decent wage?” I tease Arie.
“To show the two of you that there are options on campus. Dating older guys is overrated.”
Arie is into jocks. I’m not a fan. Growing up, my big brother Ty talked nonstop about football. At least we’re not at a football game, but rugby is similar, I think. I mean, it’s a bunch of dudes doing something with the ball and being uber-competitive, to the point of breaking bones, to get the ball into the end zone.
I fan my hot face with my hands.
Arie, Gwen, and I have the best seats among the eager-eyed coeds. We’re front and center. Syn and Riley are missing from this shindig. Syn has a hate-fest for jocks, and Riley had the good sense not to take up Arie on her offer.
“I’m not at DU for a love match,” I say while the conversations in the stands are at a normal decibel. DU, or Dumas University, is a private college in Washington State.
“Same,” Gwen says. “I’m here to get my degree and get off my parents’ farm. If I graduate.”
She said the last part in a near whisper, but I heard her clearly. Carlos and I dated secretly, and being hyperaware of noises and conversations became my superpower.
What does Gwen mean if she graduates? Of course she will. We all will. But I’m not a gambler. I grab my cell phone from my bag and text someone who owes me a favor.
Me: What’s the 4-1-1 on G Bliss not graduating?
Skylar: Let me check
Skylar works in the registrar’s office.
Gray bar. Three dots.
Skylar: Financial aid in but 5K short. Overdue
Well, crap.
Me: TY
“Wherever I land in my future job, I’ll fly my besties out for a day at the spa and a night out on the town.” Gwen props her face in her palms with her elbows on her knees. She stares off into the distance, at the parking lot on the other side of the field.
“We’ll be dressed to the T.” I shoulder-bump her. “It’ll be fun times.”
Gwen sees the world through rose-colored glasses and has been that way since I met her. I love her, but it must be exhausting to put on a smile for the world yet hurt on the inside. A girl should have a fairy godmother in her corner now and then, and Gwen is due for one. I wish I could make her dreams come true.
I drop my cell phone back into my bag and look where Gwen is staring. Two tall guys get out of a blacked-out sports car. Backward baseball caps cover their dark hair, and their hands are shoved inside the pockets of their low-hanging jeans like they don’t have a care in the world, but I know differently. It’s Midnight Sterling and his cousin, Dare. Those boys are rich and panty-melting hot but trouble with a capital T.
