“You can’t uninvite Casey; that will just make everything worse. Just talk to Tate, okay. It may be too late for something to happen between the two of you romantically, but it’s not too late to make sure you don’t lose your friendship as well.”
“Okay. We’ll be stuck in the car tomorrow on the way back to campus, so I’ll talk to her then.”
“Good. Now, I’ve got to go to bed. Typically, when a guy texts me at one in the morning, it’s a little more exciting than this.”
“Sorry.” I chuckle. “Thanks for picking up. Wait, whyareyou up?”
“Logan had a date with Marcus tonight, if that’s even what they’re calling it, so he had to debrief me when he got back.”
“Fair. Thanks again. I’ll see you in the New Year.”
“Goodnight, Fletch.”
“Goodnight.”
twenty-one
Tate
Ididn’t drive back to campus with Fletcher, so I have no idea how the other night went with Casey. Ethan and his family wanted to make the most of their trip out here and go downtown, so Naomi offered to drop me back at campus after the five of us got some breakfast, even though dropping me off was out of the way.
And since the guys left before I got back to campus a couple of days ago, I won’t know anything about that night until after the New Year.
I thought he would’ve called me. Or at least sent me a text. Usually, when they’re away for games, he texts me the whole ride there and calls me when they get to the hotel.
I haven’t heard from him.
I know they got there okay, though, because I’ve watched their games with the girls at Greystone or at an apartment if Maia wasn’t working.
It shouldn’t bother me that he didn’t reach out; there’s nothing for him to be mad at me about, but it does.
Luckily for me, I can turn these emotions into a new song. Starting in the New Year, Brinley wants me to post videos, whether it’s a full song or pieces of one, on social media.
My phone pings, and I check it, thinking maybe Fletcher’s finally reached out to me. I know travel days can be busy, so I’ve just let myself believe that’s why I haven’t heard from him.
It’s not.
It’s Brinley.
And before I have time to read her message, my door flies open.
“Do you not check your phone?” She kicks the door closed behind her, dropping the drink tray down on my counter.
“You texted me like five seconds ago.”
“And?”
“And, what are you doing here? Did we have plans?”
The game isn’t forhours; there’s no reason why Brin would be here this early. Not that I mind; she’s one of my best friends. I’m just confused.
“We’re going to the game.”
“What game?”
“The hockey game?”
“Whose hockey game?”
