“Casey?” I said, walking over slowly.
“Yeah! I joined Color Guard,” she said, spinning the baton once like she was showing off. “I transferred here. I just wanted to try something new, you know?”
My guard went straight up.
Casey had been a problem back home. Sweet at first. Then full-on stalker once my dad moved me into that big house. She faked a pregnancy. Called my phone at all hours, even when my mom was dying. Showed up at the hospital once. Before I could say anything else, she ran straight at me and threw her arms around my neck, pressing her whole body against mine and planting a kiss on my cheek. She smelled like cheap vanilla and hairspray.
“Casey—” I started, trying to pull back.
She just held on tighter, rubbing up against me like we were still together.
I glanced over her shoulder and immediately locked eyes with Isa across the field. A few other people from Stanford were standing near her, watching.
Fuck.
I gently but firmly pushed Casey back to arm’s length.
“It’s good seeing you,” I said, keeping my voice even.
She smiled, hopeful. “We should meet up after the game. I’ll wait for you. We can catch up.”
I didn’t answer. Just gave her a tight nod and turned around, walking back toward my teammates like I hadn’t heard.
My jaw was tight the whole way.
Of all the people to show up today, it had to be her.
I could still feel Isa’s eyes on me from across the field.
And for some reason, that bothered me more than Casey ever could.
After the game, I was still keyed up as I headed toward the team buses with my bag slung over my shoulder. We’d won, but I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. I just wanted to get back onthe bus, put my headphones in, and try not to think about Isa watching me earlier when Casey threw herself at me.
I should’ve known better than to think I was clear.
Casey was waiting by the bus.
She perked up the second she saw me, that same bright, slightly unhinged smile on her face. Before I could even open my mouth, she stepped right into my space and shoved a folded piece of paper into my hand.
“Here,” she said sweetly. “That’s my dorm building and my number. You should come by later. We can catch up properly.”
I looked down at the paper, then back at her.
“Casey,” I said, keeping my voice low. “We were over years ago.”
Her smile faltered for half a second before it came back, tighter this time.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head. “I’m just an old friend. You have a problem with old friends now?” She let out a short laugh that didn’t sound amused. “Geez, Stanford really made you stuck up.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
I knew better than to engage with her. Casey had always been good at twisting things, making herself the victim while she pushed boundaries no one else would. The fake pregnancy. The nonstop calls when my mom was sick. Showing up at the hospital like she had any right to be there. That was part of why I left for Stanford in the first place—to put an entire country between us.
I wasn’t about to let her back in now.
“I’m not doing this with you,” I said flatly. I crumpled the paper in my fist and dropped it on the ground between us. “Go home, Casey.”
Her eyes flashed, but she quickly smoothed her expression back into something sweet and wounded.
