“Yes, Jos?”
“Shut up.” She side-eyes me, her face tinged with frustration.
I bite back a laugh, lips twitching as I fight them from parting. “Okay, but I need to ask one more thing.”
“What?”
“Did you see my Post-it?” I knew there would be a big possibility she’d throw it away, but I wanted her to know she has someone she can talk to.
She falters as she closes her laptop. “Yeah, I saw it.”
“Anytime, don’t hesitate. I’m here for you.”
I expect silence and nothing in return but then she stuns me when she nods and says, “I’m only keeping it because we’re going to be hiking buddies.”
So, she’s had it for four days. She can’t say it’s because of this class because I left that before today.Don’t get excited, dumbass. Act cool.Be cool. Play. It. Cool.
“Cool.”Cool? Why did I say that?
“Are we done?” she asks and I realize I zoned out.
“Yeah, we’re done.” I type out a few things on my laptop as she stands, grabs her bookbag, and pushes her chair in.
As she throws it over her shoulder, she goes to walk away but then spins and stands in front of me.
“Miss me already?”
She huffs out a quiet puff of air, like she’s uncertain about what she’s going to say. “What’s your favorite color?”
My smile slips and my heart oddly races. “Green.”
“Okay.” She walks away and I’m left staring at the spot she was at with my heart racing abnormally fast.
8
DANIEL
“Sparky.”
Focus. Quick. Set feet. Transition. Throw.
“Danny.”
Focus. Quick. Set feet. Transition. Throw.
“Daniel!”
Focus. Quick.I catch the ball as the machine shoots it at me, but I come to a complete standstill, before I set my feet at Vincenzo D’Angelo’s voice. The Head Coach for MCU’s baseball team.
Dropping the ball, I raise my shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead and attempt to control my uneven breathing as I look at Coach D. He’s standing next to the machine and I’m assuming he’s turned it off since no more balls come my way.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” I pant. “Have you been here long?” I ask as I bend down to grab my water bottle.
“What the hell are you doing here so late?” He cocks a thick dark brown brow, folding his arms against his chest.
“It’s not really that late.” I set my bottle down and grab the baseball I had dropped and toss it in the air.
It’s very late, close to twelve a.m. on a Sunday, but I felt restless at home. Since I found out four days ago that Josie keptthe Post-it note, I’ve been on edge, waiting for a text from her. I know I’ll never get one, but I keep reaching for my phone more than I ever have.
