“Ah. I see we’re still coming to terms with the Julia thing.”
“Oh no. I’ve come to terms. The thing is, she doesn’t even know the terms exist, and all these fuckers all over this campus sure as shit don’t either. No way in hell I’m letting some preppy kid with bad breath scoop her out from under me before I have the chance to convince her to love me back.”
Blake nods and chuckles. “Well, as long as you’re handling it reasonably.”
“Reasonable is my middle name, bro.”
“Of course.”
“What are you doing? Grabbing breakfast?” I ask. He’s been keeping to himself this summer, despite our constant pestering. I know he’s been busy with football, but I also have to make surehe’s not just bullshitting me. Nobody avoids Ace Kelly and gets away with it.
“Yeah,” he agrees easily, nodding toward the buffet line behind me. “Grabbing something quick so I can chill a little before practice.”
I jerk up my chin and hold out a hand for him to shake. It’s nice catching up, but I’ve got an appointment to get to upstairs posthaste. “All right. Well, hit me up later. I think we’re all going to get together and do something. Feels like we’ve barely gotten to see you this summer, you’ve been so busy acting like you’re a fucking football savant or some shit.”
Blake laughs. “I’ll see what I get into later and let you know.”
“Fine. But you have to at least come to Fourth of July with us,” I insist, pointing a finger in his chest. “We’re all going to Finn’s uncle’s lake house. It’s a big Winslow family tradition that now includes the Hayeses, my crazy-ass parents, and Julia’s mom and dad. Despite the parental units being there, I swear it’ll be a good time.”
“I’ll see if I can make it, but it sounds as if it has potential,” Blake replies with a sexy hotshot wink. He plays the humble part well, but underneath it all, he’s a cocky little shit like the rest of us, I know it.
“Potential?”I scoff. “It’s going to be a good fucking time, Golden Boy. My dad and Gunnar went out and bought a shit-ton of fireworks. Your ass needs to be there, bro… Anyway, I gotta run. I’ll catch you later.” I slap him on the back and run toward the stairwell by the door. A quick glance at my watch reveals I’m two minutes late, which isn’t exactly the best start when you’re trying to talk people into shit they aren’t technically allowed to do.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and worried it might be Julia, I open the screen to read the message and climb the stairs all at once.
It’s not Jules, though; it’s Finn. And while I do read what he has to say, I put off responding until I’m out of this fuckingmeeting. He should know by now that friendship with me is meant to be a roller coaster of highs and lows of fun.
Finn: I really will kill you if you don’t stop signing me up for subscriptions I don’t want. Fucking jam? What about me makes it look like I’m a jam guy, Ace?
Tucking my phone into my pocket, I scoot up to the receptionist inside the poor counseling office and engage my smile. “Hi, there. Ace Kelly here to meet with Mrs. Patreetus. So sorry I’m a couple minutes late. I ran into my good friend Blake Boden downstairs and didn’t want to be rude by not saying hello.”
I name-drop Blake like a celebrity in Hollywood, and I do it without an ounce of shame. Around Dickson’s campus, he is an enigma.
The receptionist meets my eyes, her smile growing when I throw her a wink, and then scoots her chair back to guide me down the hall. “Right this way. I’ll show you to her office.”
Mrs. Patreetus is mid-chew on a hot dog the size of Gary’s Escalade when receptionist girl opens the door and leads me inside. A dollop of mustard falls on her sleeveless sweater, and she wipes it away with a dry napkin and a bun-filled, awkward smile. It’s a little weird that she’s eating a footlong this early in the morning, buta little weirdis my love language. The tension in my shoulders leaves, my objective more in reach than ever.
Me and Mrs. Patreetus are about to get down. I can feel it.
“Welp, what brings you in today, Ace? Feeling nervous about your schedule? Thinking about picking a major? I know it’s a big decision, but—” She launches in, setting aside the jumbo dog and pulling her laptop to the center of her desk to get it fired up.
I don’t bury the lede—I know now I don’t need to. Clearly, Mrs. Patreetus can swallow it. Plus, I’ve got a fluffing pool where Julia’s currently unsupervised in a bikini with a bunch of fuckbags to get to.
“I’m here to change all my classes.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Change…all your classes? Did you pick something that has some different requirements?”
“Oh yeah. I picked something different, all right.” I pull the crumpled piece of notebook paper from my pocket and smooth it down on the table between us. “These are the ones I need to be in.”
“Calculus 2? Physics? Psych 201?” She shakes her head. “Ace, these are some pretty tough classes. I thought at our last meeting we decided to steer clear of advanced math and stick with something more fitting of a communications major?”
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I want to challenge myself. Really lean into my education and stuff. I mean, why else am I here, you know?”
“I don’t know that you’re qualified to move on to Calc 2—”
“Mrs. Patreetus, please. I’m begging you. I can’t…” I bite my knuckles. “I can’t quite explain the shift in my mind-set in detail, but I can tell you with certainty I’m dedicated to this.”
She doesn’t quite take the bait, so I keep going.
