She doesn’t know what to say, so it must have worked.
Our professor walks in and everyone gets quiet. I take my pen and notebook out while everyone opens laptops. When I look at Joelle, she’s gone old school with pen and paper, too. We share a knowing smile before the professor jumps into the lesson, not pausing our note taking until she calls time on the class.
Joelle massages her wrist as we leave the lecture hall.
“Dear Lord, I can’t believe that was theintroductionclass.”
“I think I need a new hand,” I say, cracking my knuckles. “Or maybe I should bring my laptop.”
“I hate the sound of people clacking on keyboards though.” Joelle groans. “Like, what’s wrong with pen and paper?”
I glance at the red mark on the side of her finger from where her pen was pressing into the skin and raise my eyebrow. She ignores me.
“By the way, you hold your pen like a caveman,” she says.
“Thanks.”
“You wanna grab a coffee? Maybe try to make sense of what the hell she said back there?”
I hesitate. I have too much research on doubles tactics to do tonight. And I should get an early night if I’m going to get in an extra practice tomorrow morning.
“Thanks, but I can’t.”
She shrugs. “See you at the next one, then.”
I watch her leave, weaving through the groups of friends walking across the grass, pushing down the hint of regret.
After grabbing some take-out falafel from a nearby café, I head back to my dorm—relieved when I find it empty—and set myself up in my room with my research while I eat.
I can hear my neighbors watching movies and playing video games, laughing, talking. I’m pretty sure someone upstairs is fucking. I try to block it out, remind myself to keep my eye on the prize.
All the research in the world isn’t going to make up for practical knowledge, so I text Nate for Ben’s number. When he gives it to me after a bit of convincing—seriously, what does he think I’m going to do with it?—I fire off a text, feeling better already.
5
BEN
Need more practice. Meet me at seven tomorrow on the court. Elias.
Nate’s sitting on my bed with his notebook open, tapping his pen against his lips as he tries to focus on a problem on the page.
“Who was that?” he asks without looking up.
“Elias.”
“Oh yeah, he asked for your number. I figured, since he’s on the team.…”
“Yeah, obviously it’s cool.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants me to meet him at seven tomorrow for an extra practice session.”
“SevenAM?” Nate’s head shoots up, a horrified expression on his face.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess so.”
He lets his pen drop ontohis notebook. “Ben, you can say no.”
