Page 15 of All That Glitters

I study him. His hair is wet from the showers, and there’s a darkness under his eyes that makes me wonder if his sleep schedule is as poor as mine. He’s got his hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie, with his shoulders hunched up a little to brace against the winter wind. The way he’s standing reminds me of when we used to wait for the doors to open to our favorite café in high school. It gives me this sense of déjà vu. A sort of odd limbo state where he’s everything I’ve ever known and yet a total stranger to me now. I feel like I’ve just gotten off a roller coaster where I was stuck upside down too long, and now I have to reorient myself to gravity.

“That’s not necessary. I don’t want to inconvenience them,” I reply after a beat of silence.

“They won’t mind. Most of them already like you.”

My brow furrows. “They do?”

I’d talked to a few of them over the phone to ask questions for the article, but I didn’t think I’d said anything that would endear them toward me.

Jameson’s mouth tips up on one side. The familiar sight makes my heart ache.

“You’ve never been great at seeing how amazing you are.”

His words pierce me. I swallow the emotion clogging my throat.

“Why? Why do you say stuff like that after—” I shake my head. “You can’t pretend nothing happened, Jameson.”

Pain mars his expression.

“That’s not my intention. I’ve wanted to talk to you since the day you found out about the internship. Actually, before that—”

My mind flashes back to that night, making my heart speed up in my chest. The feeling turns my stomach.

I hold up a hand. “We said we wouldn’t talk about it. You promised.”

He clenches his jaw and looks to the side. I watch him take a deep breath, his chest rising with the inhale.

“You’ve broken promises. Why can’t I?”

Tears sting my eyes as I think of pinky promises on playgrounds. Best friends forever was a lot simpler back then. The door opens and a few of the players exit, laughing together.

I lower my voice. “That’s different and you know it.”

His dark gaze pierces mine.

“Is it?”

Chapter eight

Comfort Food

Marigold Belmore

My heart is pounding in my chest as I walk across the parking lot to where Shepherd and Jasmine are waiting for me in Shepherd’s truck. The arena is a few blocks away from campus, so we all rode together instead of trekking through the frigid early-February air. I offered to drive separately so they wouldn’t have to wait on me, but Shepherd insisted it was fine.

Jasmine hops out of the truck as I approach. One look from her makes my chin quiver. She opens up her arms and I fall into her hug. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla envelops me. Jasmine rubs my back as I cry.

“I hate crying.” I hiccup against Jasmine’s shoulder.

“That probably means you should do it more,” Jasmine replies in a soft voice. “Why don’t we get in the truck? You’re shaking.”

I’m not sure if that’s from the cold.

You’ve broken promises. Why can’t I? The words echo inside my head as though they’ve been screamed inside a cavern. To say I broke a promise when he’s the one who hurt me … unbelievable. That’s what it is.

“Yeah, okay,” I mumble, and climb into the backseat.

Jasmine joins me instead of sitting up front with Shepherd. I don’t have the energy to insist she do otherwise.