“So…?” I urge, watching and waiting as Boden casually slides his hands into his jeans pockets and rocks back on his heels.
“I obviously asked her to share our love with the world, and she very graciously said no.”
“What?” Finn blurts out on a snort while I suck in a huge breath of air at the unexpected honesty. “Get real. You got rejected.”
I wheeze, trying to find the strength to go along with Finn to protect Blake’s little secret a while longer. Funny thing is, I’m a man of secrets—my own and everyone else’s. It’s not an easy load to carry, but it’s been one of my roles for my entire life. I’m just a vault like that. “Why do you look so happy about that and, please, even more than that, why are you talking like a fucking poet tonight?”
Blake smiles. “Because it’s only a matter of time.”
I look down, just barely meeting Finn’s eyes as he gives me theget a load of this guylook. I know it, I respect it, I am it. But it’s not my shit to tell. Not this time.
“Mark my words,” Blake says confidently. “That girl will be mine.”
I imagine this is his way of telling us without telling us. Of plausible deniability when we find out eventually and freak out that he’s been keeping such a big secret from us all.
It’s a great plan—one I’d utilize myself, to be honest.
“Finn. Help me out here. Bring this man back down to earth.” I play my part, just as a dutiful friend is supposed to—just as Blake has been doing for me since the moment I flipped out in the club nearly two months ago and had an epiphany about Julia.
“Dude, I can’t judge,” Finn chimes in, bending in his way to make Blake feel better. “I spent four weeks in hospital waiting rooms for Scottie.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Blake wraps his arm around Finn’s shoulder, happy with the solidarity. “When you know, you fucking know. Right, Finn?”
Finn looks across the room at Scottie, I look at Julia, and Blake looks at Lexi. Three poor saps, just begging the universe to put them out of their misery.
“When you know, you know,” Finn agrees.
Yep. When you know, you motherfluffing know.
Now, I just have to convince Julia to get rid of the guy she’sdating, fall in love with me, and somehow maintain the years of trust, comfort, and assurance our friendship has brought to our lives.Easy, right?
Mercifully, thanks to Cynthia Patreetus, come the start of the semester, Julia will be seeing me all day, every day, and I’ll really be able to kick this dog and pony show into gear.
Speaking of dog, we also have our furbaby son, Yoko. Another important reason that keeps us bonded together like glue.
But when it comes to my best friend and love of my life, I’m not a slacker and I’m not just going to leave anything up to chance. I’m going to keep finding ways and reasons and situations—even if I have to create them—to put me in her vicinity and showcase all the important traits that make me the perfect man for her.
Day and night, my plan to win Julia’s heart no longer holds regular office hours. This is twenty-four seven, baby, and the stakes are higher than ever.
Tuesday, Aug 5th
Julia
Hello, sophomore year.
I can’t believe summer is done and today marks the first official day of my sophomore year at Dickson, but here I am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for my first class of the day.
Students filter into the classroom ahead of me, taking seats in the last three rows mostly, and chatting animatedly with their friends. Since this is a nine a.m. class, everyone is a little more awake than the poor souls who didn’t know better than to skip first-hour sessions and excited to be back for another year of parties, sports, and maybe, if they have time, a little bit of learning.
Always a bit of an anomaly, I take one of the free seats in the first row and put my backpack in the chair next to me to save it for Drew. He texted before and asked me to save him a seat since he got held up at the coffee cart grabbing us both drinks, and I’ve never shied away from a showdown for a seat when necessary. Movie theaters, planes, trains—I have no problem saying something is taken.
Maybe it’s my best friend Ace’s influence, but for some reason, it’s one of the only forms of confrontation that doesn’t make me the least bit uncomfortable.
I survey the group around me surreptitiously, looking for familiar faces from last year, and a few stand out immediately. The only problem? They don’t stand out in a good way. Higgins and Holston Hobbs are notorious class clowns and interruption seekers. I have no idea who they paid off to pass last semester, but I don’tremember them passing even a single test in Calc 1. Today, they’re wearing matching penguin pajama onesies.
I take out my phone and text Drew quick.
Me: Got our seats in the front row secured.
