“I’ll bring the new Nicolas Cage movie—it looks awesome,” Brooks continued, and I groaned playfully.
“Your Cage obsession is becoming concerning,” I quipped.
“No more concerning than any of yours,” he lobbed back. I smiled wanly at the barb, feeling its sting even if it hadn’t been calculated to hurt.
We approached the cashier, who knew us by name and began to punch in our orders before we could give them. Brooks and I had been coming most mornings for the past three years.
After we got our orders, Brooks and I left and stood on the path for a few minutes before we headed in opposite directions.
“There’s a party this weekend at Sigma Kappa. I thought you might want to go,” Brooks ventured, sipping on his coffee. I made a face. Brooks wasn’t in a fraternity, but he was friends with several of the brothers at the Sigma Kappa house.
I snorted. Brooks should know better.
“Why would you even ask that?” I gaped.
“Because I saw how much you ended up enjoying yourself this past weekend. Admit it, you had fun,” Brooks said, poking me in the side and making me squirm.
“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered, not needing to add that my perfectly enjoyable evening had been shot to shit once I got home. No sense in being Debbie Downer.
“So you see, mingling with society isn’t abadthing. And maybe if you’re not sitting around your apartment all the damn time, you’ll stop moping about someone you shouldn’t be moping about.”
I drew myself upright. “I amnotmoping!” I stated firmly.
“But you can’t deny that you’re a bit antisocial,” he countered.
“And you can’t deny that you’re a bit of a dickhead,” I threw back.
Brooks laughed and reached out, pulling me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “You’re the most awesome chick I know, Aubrey,” he said with genuine affection.
I felt my cheeks heat up and moved out of the shelter of his arms, remembering how easily I had used him to fill the gaping hole in my chest. I couldn’t use Brooks as a fill-in. It wasn’t fair. “So does that mean I’m off the hook, then?” I asked, my mouth quirking up into a smile.
“Come on, Aubrey. Pretty please with a beer keg on top?” He folded his hands together as he begged.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
“Ask me next week when I’m not feeling somopey,” I joked, sticking my tongue out.
Brooks rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Fine, your loss. But I won’t give up,” he warned, and I felt a prickle of apprehension.
Not because of Brooks’s words per se, but because of similar ones spoken by someone else entirely.
“I have to get to class. I’ll see you later,” I said.
“I’ll see you this evening,” Brooks called out as he walked toward the library.
I started down the pathway toward the psychology building, when I felt someone come up close behind me.
Students were everywhere, but this particular presence had me feeling nervous.
And with good reason, apparently.
“Aubrey.”
My name, spoken in that familiar way, like a mixture of a curse and a prayer, made me feel uncomfortably weak in the knees.
Should I make a run for it?
It was too late. I was already stopping and turning around before I could think better of it.
