“Sure, but I was thinking more for a scavenger hunt.” My brain spun, thinking of challenges to complete. Maybe I was inspired by my girl Mack’s summer playbook she’d done all summer.
“That’s fucking lame.” Luca crossed his arms.
“Is it though? When you and your squad come in first place, will that feel lame? Or are you only imagining you losing to Brady or something?”
His eyes flashed, his competitive nature turning on. I knew these guys. I was a damn empath and good at this team unity shit. Luca wasin,whether he realized it or not.
“Jesus.” He pinched his nose, and right on cue, he nodded. “Fine.”
Bingo.“Okay, here is what I’m envisioning…”
I went onto a quick description of the challenges, dividing everyone into teams of five to try to compete for the grand prize of all the items in the lost and found at the stadium. My guys were all in, so now I had to make sure Oliver was okay, buy the stuff, and forget about Ivy’s face when she said I wasn’t worth it.
Easy peasy. I was Callum O’Toole, the laidback, flirty, fun guy who played football and partied. I didn’t let my feelings get hurt because I didn’t have them. Ivy might be around this season for her internship, but that wasn’t gonna change my plans. She might’ve been in my past, but she wasn’t in my future. That was for damn sure.
3
IVY
My best friend in the entire world, Esmerelda Ramirez, was the easiest person to live with because she cooked, cleaned, and knew when to pull me out of my shell. Don’t get me wrong, I shared in the chores, but this girl preferred to cook because she wanted to be a chef. Her parents would never let her drop out of school because, and I quote,Education is the only guarantee in life, so you’ll get one at all costs.
It was hard to disagree when I saw careers end from injuries every year. Three very specific memories of a player getting hurt came to mind, and I shoved them away. They were gruesome. The bone jutting from the—I cringed.
“That better not be from the eggs Benedict. I did my own hollandaise sauce with some extra spice, and that shit hits hard.” She pointed the spatula at me.
“No, this is delicious.” I took another bite and crossed my eyes. It was Sunday, two days since the situation with Callum, and a rare morning where we were both home and hanging out. We tried to hit the fresh market for flowers once a month, and a beautiful vase of colorful petals sat in the center of our island.
Again, a perk of having Esme as a bestie? Her brother was super protective and also… kinda famous and rich, so he’d found us a kick-ass apartment. No seniors in college should have a place this nice. We had ceiling-to-floor windows on the west side that showed us the sunset every night. We each had our own bathroom with a walk-in shower. A huge closet that I only took up a third of.
Enrique Ramirez was a famous video gamer in a way I didn’t quite understand. He streamed events, competed, and dabbled in design. All I knew was that he loved his sister, which meant he doted on us. All he asked for in return was one day when he needed guidance on anything-sports related, that I’d answer his questions.
Uh, no shit.
The man got us a bougie apartment on the top floor because it wassaferfor two young women.
“Then why did you make that squishy face?” Esme dipped her finger onto my plate and tasted the sauce. Her dark lashes fanned her cheek as she thought. “Shit, I’m good.”
“You are.” I took another bite to prove it. “I was just thinking about career-ending injuries.”
She frowned. “What is wrong with you?”
“How much time do you have?”
She chuckled and shook her head at me, the gesture one of an old, wise aunt. We were the same age, but she was an old soul. While her brother doted on her and her abuela called her twice a week, she had a complicated relationship with her parents. Part of me was envious of her family dynamics because where she spoke to hers all the time to the point they annoyed her, my parents and I never really talked.
I loved my parents, and I knew they loved and were proud of me, (for the most part) but everyone did their own thing. I’d always wanted a huge family, a large group of people to love andsupport me, to call on a bad day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. Fact: one of the key factors that formed family dynamics was how the family communicated, and ours was…not ideal.
I had Esme. She was enough.
I used to have Callum…
“Do we have stuff for Bloody Marys?” I asked, the familiar ache in my chest returning. I hated seeing him every day, remembering how things used to be. I hated knowing that the pain never really went away. I just avoided it by not searching him out. I also hated how he made me feel small, like I couldn’t do something.
He used to be my biggest cheerleader when my parents were too busy for me.
Esme sucked her teeth, frowning. “No, but we have straight vodka if that’s what you’re in the mood for. I love me some tipsy Ivy. It’s only happened three times in the last three years, but I recall them in a lot of detail. Like the time you?—”
“Shut up, no.” I covered my ears, closing my eyes. I was an introvert and calculated. I knew what to drink to feel a buzz or what to avoid to not feel bad, and getting drunk wasn’t something I ever wanted to do. Not after what happened to me when I was eight.
