Melanie Parks had it all. An amazing childhood best friend Lauren Porter, they're attending one of the best colleges in the country together, a great family, and a longtime boyfriend, Jamie Sanders, she loves and who loves her back.
Or so she thoug...
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The past few days have been rough and I'm strung out with underlying issues with Jamie getting worse and worse that have kept me from sleeping. I don't understand how things have gotten to where they are between us. I don't know what we can do to fix it without him thinking that I'm trying to blame him, no matter how much he deserves it.
Jamie's been trying to make it up to me, texting and calling me when he can and he's spent the past couple nights in my bed even though we haven't done anything physical.
Needing a breather, I set up an extra project date with Spencer even though my end of the deal has been falling to pieces. I haven't been keeping up with my goals but I need to get back on track, so I'm hoping the meeting tonight will give me the kick in the ass to do it.
When I reach the Art & Architecture Library, I find Spencer with his back to the double doors so I head inside to join him at one of the tables further to the left. Walking closer, I notice that his right foot is tapping against the floor, almost like he's nervous about being around me.
He must hear me because he lifts his head and looks over his shoulder. "Hey," he greets me.
"Hey," I echo as I round the table. "Thanks for meeting me tonight."
"Sure," he nods, his eyes watching me set my stuff down and pull out my chair to sit down.
"Sorry about-" we both go to say, stopping when we realize the other is speaking.
"You can go first," I tell him.
"Look, I'm sorry for acting like a jackass about you and Jamie, again."
I shrug my shoulders. "It's okay. I can kinda understand why when I told you what I did."
"Still, I told you I wouldn't talk about him, let alone your relationship like that."
"I know, but I overreacted. So, I'm sorry for snapping at you."
"understandable, considering how things were going."
I give a small shrug before digging my things out from my bag.
"I uh, made you, uh us, something," he stutters, recapturing my attention. He reaches for his backpack, unzipping it so he can grab a container from the bottom of it and setting it on the table to slide it in front of me.
I look at him before I unclip the lid and lift it up to reveal blue cookies with chocolate and white chocolate chips, chunks or oreos and chocolate chip cookies on the top of them. "What are these?" I giggle.
"They're cookies."
"I can see that," I giggle again. "But what kind of cookies?"
"So, there's a bit of a story behind them," he tells me. "These are from my childhood, something special my mom did for my little siblings and I."
