As I’m thinking about all of that, Bradley says, “I texted Lily, by the way. I told her what was going on, and I let her know that your mom is going to be okay and that you’re doing okay too.”
“Oh, really? Thanks,” I say, surprised.
“She used to be my friend too, Stella,” he whispers.
No, I really don’t remember that. “Thanks, Bradley. I appreciate it since I think I left my phone sitting on my bed at school. Can you tell her I’ll call her tomorrow when I get back?”
“Sure, no problem.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
ALEX
After the bloodbath that was our loss today, the team trudges back to the locker room. I’m not looking forward to the screams that’ll come out of Coach’s mouth. I mean, we lost, epically, and it’s homecoming. I fumbled the ball three times, let my quarterback get sacked so many times I think he’s going to have permanent bruises on his ass, and I didn’t score one damn point. Worst. Game. Ever.
I get to my locker and grab my phone, hoping that she’s responded to my texts. Nothing. There’ve been no texts and no voice mails from her. It doesn’t make sense. There has got to be something wrong. After the coach has his say, I quickly shower and dress so I can book it back to the dorm. Not bothering to go to my room, I take the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. I bang on Stella’s door. No answer. I knock again. Footsteps. Finally! The door opens, it’s her roommate.
“Oh, hey, Alex,” she says seductively.
No time for that shit. “Where’s Stella?”
“Stella? You’re looking for Stella?” She’s got a bitchy smirk on her face. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what, goddamn it? Where is she? Is she okay?”
“Oh, she’s okay, all right. I can’t believe she didn’t call you. I told her to tell you, but she just shrugged it off. The girl doesn’t ever listen to me.”
Why would she? Brooke is no friend of Stella’s. “What are you talking about? Spit it out.”
“It’s terrible that she didn’t tell you…” She pauses. “About her and Bradley.”
“What about Bradley and Stella?” I yell.
“Calm down. Jeez. Okay. I’ll tell you, but remember, don’t kill the messenger.”
I stand there with my hands on my hips, waiting for the bitch to speak. This day has sucked so hard.
“They’re back together.”
“What? Who’s back together?”
“Stella and Bradley, silly. Apparently, her family put enough pressure on her, and she finally agreed. They went home together this morning. He picked her up bright and early.”
“That makes no sense. I just talked to her last night.”
No, wait. I haven’t spoken to her. I sent her a text earlier in the day, but I haven’t actually spoken to her. Come to think of it, we haven’t actually spoken all week––well, except outside of her Intro to Business class. Damn it. She’d been crying. I bet it wasn’t over some stupid class either. I’m such a dipshit. I’ve been so focused on the game this weekend. My mind was on that. It was on her too, but I guess I thought things were fine. I was just giving her space. Maybe I gave her too much space—just enough time to think about what she was missing with the douchebag. She probably compared us and decided that Bradley was a safer bet. Whatever.Fuck it.Jesus! Women. Who needs them?
Brooke’s watching me as I think about everything from this past week. The more I think, the more pissed I become. “Goddamn it. This is bullshit!” I yell.
“So, Alex, what are you going to do right now?” she asks, flirting.
“The hell if I know.” The guys are all going out to drown their sorrows. Maybe I’ll go along. “I’m gonna get drunk.”
“Well, can I come along? I could use a drink too. It’s been very dramatic here. My heart’s broken too. I’m so sick of Stella getting everything she wants. I knew it the minute she walked into my dorm room. Talk about a spoiled princess. If it isn’t Bradley fawning all over her, it’s her dad and then you. Well, it used to be you. I mean, the girl is fat and ugly. What is it about her that draws you all like flies to that shit?” She’s literally got her lip pushed out like she’s a pouting little brat.
I only heard a few words out of that entire thing. Stella and spoiled princess doesn’t ring a bell, but I can’t seem to find it in me to argue with her tonight. “Fine, whatever,” I spout. “Everyone’s going to Changes.” I turn and stomp down the hallway toward the elevator.
As I walk away, I hear, “Hang on. Let me grab my purse, Alex.” I pause for several minutes until I hear her feet tapping on the concrete floor. At the elevator, she starts jabbering on again. “The other football players hang out at Changes, don’t they? This’ll be great. We can go commiserate with them over your loss.”
