Page 24 of The Striker
Cecilia is early to class this morning. Nothing out of the ordinary. But what sticks out to me is that she’s texting on her phone. Taking her usual seat beside me, she keeps her head tucked low as her fingers fly over her phone’s screen.
There’s a tentative smile on her face. Whoever she’s talking to, she likes them.
Jealousy digs angry claws into my chest.
Who is it? I need to know.
Cecilia doesn’t have a circle. She talks to me. Or at least, she did. And then she has her parents. It’s gotta be her mom or dad blowing up her phone right now. Except, normally when one of them messages her, she gets this pinched look on her face.
They worry about her. For good reason. I worry about her, too. But they’ve become helicopter parents and all their hovering just pushes Cecilia away. There’s usually a touch of annoyance on her face whenever they check in on her at school. I’m sure it’s annoying, but I wish my parents were more like hers. Shedoesn’t know how lucky she is that her parents actually give a shit. Mine cut me out of their lives as soon as they could.
Watching her facial expressions now, she’s not at all annoyed. She’s … happy.
Fuck, she’s beautiful when she’s like this. Hell, she’s always beautiful, but seeing her smile. It’s something special. Something she rarely shows the outside world. Which is why I’m so taken aback right now. I’m not used to seeing Cecilia like this. Not out in the open.
She likes to keep her emotions locked down. Her expression blank.
Before, she’d give me these small smiles when we were together. But I’m not on the receiving end of them anymore.
I wish I could break into that pretty little head of hers and rummage around. I don’t like not knowing everything there is to know about her. Her reason for calling things off between us still doesn’t make any sense. If I could get inside her head, maybe I’d find some answers.
I stare down at her phone, trying to read the name on her screen, but it’s too small for me to make the letters out.
I need to know who she's talking to. The longer this back and forth messaging goes on, the more it sinks in that it is definitely not one of her parents. Is it a guy? Did she meet someone?
White hot fury courses through my veins. I swear to god if a dude is trying to move in on her … I shake my head.
It’s only been a few weeks. Weeks. Not months. And she didn’t break things off with me to see other people. She said she neededtime to figure her shit out. To heal. And for some bullshit reason, she couldn’t do that and be in a relationship with me.
Fuck it. I need to know.
“Who are you talking to?” I ask, masking my irritation.
Her eyes flick toward me in surprise, like she hadn’t realized I was here, but her fingers continue moving across the screen.
“Just someone from the swim team.”
The swim team? Relief sweeps through me. Not another guy. Good.
“Are you thinking about trying out next season?” It’d be good for her. I don’t know anything about swimming, but I’ve seen Cecilia in the water. She’s fast.
“Umm …” Her cheeks pink. “They have a last-minute spot this season. One of the girls is injured,” she shrugs. “I’m thinking of trying out.”
“Yeah?” I smile wide, and her blush deepens.
“Mm Hmm.”
“When are tryouts?” I ask. It’s none of my business, but she’s talking to me and she hasn’t put any walls up yet. I want to keep her talking. See what else she might share.
“This Friday.”
Only a few days away.
“Hey, umm …” she sets her phone down on her desk and shifts in her seat to face me. There’s something she wants to ask me, butjudging by the expression on her face, she doesn’t know where to start.
“Yeah?”
Cecilia chews on her bottom lip, and I have to fight back the urge to press my thumb against her mouth, freeing the abused flesh. She chews on her lip when she’s nervous.
