Mia Hill. College bound with an athletic scholarship. A go-getter with big dreams and a fully thought out plan to make sure they come true.
But with her father's release from prison looming and the inevitable stresses of adulting, everything she wa...
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"You haven't looked at me all afternoon. Did you even want to bring me out?"
The voice of my best friend is whiny, and his pout is supreme. I'm fighting the urge to roll my eyes but, at the same time, I did ask him to come to lunch and I've barely given him any attention.
"I'm sorry, buddy." I scrub a hand over my mouth, my eyes still wandering every other inch of the café besides my own table. And my deprived table mate, apparently. "I'm a little distracted."
When I finally spare him a glance, I watch Brand lean back in his chair with a smirk. "I'm going to assume you haven't seen Mia yet?"
"You'd be right in that assumption, yes." The chiming bell on the door draws my attention immediately. But it's not her. Just like no one else who's walked inside has been her. "I know it's only the first real day back in the swing of things, but not seeing her is killing me."
His brows crinkle together. "I thought you guys parted on good terms."
"We did," I shrug.
"Then what's with the freak out?"
"I'm not freaking out."
"You've hardly touched your food."
"I'm sorry, Mom..." My sarcasm is thick, defense on point. I really haven't touched my food, and I'm holding a fork in my hand like I'm about to stab someone with it. It's at this moment that I realize I am, in fact, kind of freaking out.
I shouldn't be. It's not like we broke up. It's just that with every passing day since Mia and I parted ways, all my shit's been messed up. My focus is gone, the flight back to California was a daze, and I forgot half my luggage at the airport by accident. Couldn't wait to get back on campus.
I want to see her so bad, it's been taking every ounce of my strength not to go running to her dorm. But it's only the first day of classes after all, and she did ask me to give her some time to figure things out. I think she's supposed to come find me when she's ready. All I can do is wait.
Wait and worry about how she's feeling, what she's been up to, and how healing might look from where she's standing. Our lines of communication have stayed open, but we've only exchanged a few texts about the basics. I just want to know that she's okay and not hurting.
Loosening the death grip on my fork, I make an attempt to scoop at the pile of noodles, stabbing a piece of chicken onto the end. When I actually bring it to my mouth and start chewing, Brandon pats me on the back.
"Good boy, Gray," he smirks. "You'll be back to your full strength in no time."
"Yeah, yeah." I do roll my eyes this time. But deep down, I'm only hoping he's right. "Thanks, by the way."
He shoots me a look. "Thanks for what?"
"For warning me that this is how it feels when you fall for someone," I say, tilting my head at him, eyes narrowed with all the judgment. "A little heads up would have been nice."
