Presto

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NESSA

I'm so sorry, Adler. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I've been trying so goddamn hard to get back to you. I was stuck, though. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. I couldn't get to you before, but now I can.

So let me know when you're ready, and I'll be there. I'll be there in an instant.

Wilder

--

Being at home was worse than being on campus.

I hadn't stayed in touch with any friends from Patterson, and my family was a constant buzz of activity, often leaving me...alone. Wasn't much of a surprise, but definitely a pain in the ass. There was nothing to distract me from the constant question on my mind: what the hell had Grayson been about to say?

After reading his note, I choked on my tears again and ran out into the hallway. But it was too late. He was gone.

Again.

Regret. Instant regret that I hadn't let him finish whatever it is he wanted to say. I was just so mad, though. That he walked up like that and expected things to go back to the way they were before. That he believed there was some excuse that justified ignoring me for so goddamn long.

And now, once again, Grayson was the only thing I could think about. Being at home hadn't changed that one bit. At least on campus I had other things to fill my mind. Like classes.

So after a few weeks at home, I packed up my things and headed back to Oakland to enroll in a last-minute summer course: The History of Music.

When I sat in the performing arts center on the first day, I didn't know what to expect. But it definitely wasn't the captain of the football team plopping down next to me in the lecture hall.

"Ah, a familiar face," he said, sinking into the seat with a friendly smile. He had on athletic shorts and an OSU football tee that I recognized from Grayson's closet.

I stiffened.

"Julian," I said, acknowledging him with a tense nod. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I've been putting off my performing arts general credit for years. If I wanna graduate on time next year, I had to get it done." He shrugged before raising a brow at me. "Nice of you not to run away from me this time."

"Not like I have a lot of options. I'm pretty sure that class is about to start," I muttered.

And then it did, our curly-haired professor giving a run-down on the syllabus for the four-week course. It looked like it involved way more reading than I had expected, but a flip through the textbook told me it would be more interesting than my biology homework from last semester, at least.

As soon as Dr. Joy dismissed us, I started to pack up my stuff. I took my time with it because my brain had once again wandered to a piano-playing football star. And I was debating if I should ask Julian for help.

I needed to know what Grayson had been going to say that day. Even if it was just an excuse, I craved hearing it. An excuse was better than none. Better than not caring at all. And hearing Grayson say an excuse was better than not hearing Grayson at all.

When I turned to look at Julian, he was already staring at me. Like he'd known I wanted to ask something.

"Can I.." I paused, zipping up my backpack and clearing my throat. "Do you have Grayson's new number? I was hoping to call him."

Julian cocked his head to the side and pulled out his phone without looking at it.

"You don't have it?"

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