It’s true.
I have no reason to lie to her and now that she’s dating my best friend, I have nothing to lose.
"Save a dance for me? I’ve requested my favorite song with the DJ," she says, knowing Austin will never allow it, but I nod anyway.
His hands glide around her waist from behind, snaking up to her cheek, turning her to face him.
Her body stiffens at his touch.
"Here you are." His voice is gruff as he forces a kiss on her lips that she’s clearly too polite to decline.
Her cheeks turn a different shade of pink, and I can tell it’s not because she’s nervous to kiss him.
It’s because she’s too shy to kiss him in front of anyone.
In front ofme.
"Come on, let’s get away fromhim." Austin’s words slur, nodding in my direction as he pulls her away from me. He’s clearly drunk, and she’s visibly uncomfortable, but she goes with him anyway, most likely to prevent a scene that would inevitably occur if she chose to linger.
Looking back over her shoulder, she mouths the word'sorry',and I shrug in response.
She has nothing to be sorry for. She has no idea how I felt about her.
How I still feel about her.
Checking my phone, my hour is almost up, and I hear 'Make you feel my love'byAdeleplaying over the speakers.
It’s Cassandra’s favorite song, and the one that I want to dance with her to.
Leaving the gym for silence, I dial mom’s number.
"Hey Mom. Just letting you know I’ll stay for one more song, then I’m heading home."
"Are you sure, honey?"
"Positive."
The line goes silent, and I slide my phone back into the pocket of my navy suit pants, let out a deep breath, opening the doors for the gym.
I don’t have to search the room for long before I spot Cassandra.
She’s impossible to miss, even amongst a crowd of people.
But I wish I hadn’t spotted her.
Her arms are wrapped tightly around Austin’s neck, while his arms are around her waist.
Her head rests comfortably on his chest with her eyes closed, and that’s when I admit defeat.
When I realize that whatever chance I might’ve had no longer exists.
Hurrying back to my table, I take my jacket off the backrest of my seat, text Bea to tell her I’m leaving, and I don’t look back.
***
"Great game, son," Mr. Anderson says as he slaps his palm on my back.
The team is heading back to our locker room after another win. "Thanks, sir. I appreciate the pointers before the game tonight," I respond, smiling, before sipping some water.
