Chapter 40

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Sydney's POV

Cheerleading tryouts were intense and my body has never hurt as badly as it has since I got back home. Between the endless stunt clinics, tumbling, and routines my muscles are achy and my mind is tired. The campus was beautiful, it felt like there was magic in the air, and if only for a few days Quinn and I tried our best to put all the decision-making behind us and be present. 

We didn't have a lot of time away from the co-rec center but when we did we explored a few hole-in-the-wall restaurants with a few others we met at tryouts, searched for great coffee shops, and walked through the park. I think my mom managed to read four books in three days and explored with us on occasion but with our limited time, she let us do our own thing. 

I was so distracted by everything going on I didn't have much time to talk to Brooks so as soon as I got home and unpacked my bag I face-timed him so I could give him all the details about the trip. I will know a week after graduation if I made the squad or not so I still have a few weeks before that decision has to be made. 

He picked up on the second ring, "There's my girl!" he said in a louder-than-normal voice. 

"Uh, you drunk babe?" I giggle and look at the clock, it's 12 pm on a Sunday, not Brooks' usual style but I can't say that I'm not impressed or intrigued. He doesn't normally let himself get too carried away unless it's a Friday or Saturday night so I'm a little curious about what got him day drinking. 

"Yup." no hesitation in his response. I hear a few of the guys in the background, and one distant voice comes through above the rest, "Hi Sydney!" Tate yells as Brooks walks up the stairs and away from the crowd in the kitchen. 

"Tate says hi," Brooks hiccups. 

"At least you are honest and not one of those boyfriends who try to lie." I laugh. 

"Because there's no point, you can read me like a book Sydney Elizabeth." 

"This is true." my heart flutters at the words, I have always known how deeply I see Brooks but his acknowledgment of it sends a rush of excitement through me. "So, what's got Brooks Dawson day drinking on a Sunday?" I question. 

"Just bored, the guys say I've been sulking but I think they are being dramatic." he slurs. "I miss my girl. I miss my family and if that makes me a little pouty then big freaking deal!" 

The words pound into my chest like a mallet. Guilt washes over me but I think he's too distracted by his buzz to notice. My throat tightens because I don't know what to say. I hate that he is feeling so affected by all of this that he chose to get drunk in the middle of a Sunday. Before I can say anything he apparently isn't too drunk to notice the reaction on my face. 

"Don't look at me like that Syd, I'm fine. Promise. Just blowing off some steam." he lets out a breath, "See all better." he smiles and I know it's his bullshit smile that he puts on for show but I don't want to push the subject when he clearly doesn't want to talk about it. I knew I had been busy but I don't want him to feel unimportant to me. I hate that I've added to the isolation he is feeling. 

"Baby," he pouts, "tell me about your trip." 

Drunk Brooks is cute, but sad drunk Brooks, I don't know how I feel about him. I know there aren't going to be any serious revelations about how he is really feeling made while he's under the influence so I filled him in on the trip and caught up on what he had been up to all week before he decided he needed to lay down. I reminded him to drink some water and take some Tylenol before we exchanged I love yous and hung up. 

The conversation hung around my shoulders like a 100 lbs weight. I couldn't sleep because I kept thinking about the look in his eyes and the heaviness in his voice. I know he said he needed to blow off some steam but it felt like more. The distance between his family is growing and I can't help but feel responsible. I don't want Brooks to lose everything including his happiness just to keep me, us, it's not fair to him or me. I don't want him to eventually resent me for it all. 

I toss and turn begging the thoughts in my mind to turn off because the idea of not being with Brooks sends pain radiating through my chest. I don't know what to do but what I do know is tomorrow morning is going to be a bitch because it's 3 am and I haven't caught even an ounce of sleep. 

***

It's been two weeks since Brookss' Sunday Funday and he hasn't brought up anything about it so I haven't either. I feel for what he is going through but honestly, I have so much going on right now I don't have the capacity to try and pull it out of him. I trust that when he is ready to talk about it we will and if not, well then that's something else we will deal with later. 

He is coming home this weekend because it's Prom and I cannot wait to get my hands on him. Hopefully, getting to spend some time together will help ease the ache he is feeling. 

The school has been buzzing with excitement all week and as Quinn and I walk down the senior hallway it feels as though the air is finally starting to lighten. We have all been so weighed down with scholarships, college applications, future plans, and so on that nobody has had time to enjoy the fact that we are almost out of this place. With Prom in a matter of days, everyone is talking animatedly, reminiscing about last year, and comparing dresses, tuxes, and cars that will be taking them to the venue. 

Our group went together to get a big limo and made reservations for the nicest restaurant in a 20-mile radius. It's your basic chain steakhouse but it will do. Clay, of course, is throwing the after party at the lake house, and for the first time, I told my parents straight up what was happening. They surprisingly agreed to me going to the party and spending the night as long as I promised not to be irresponsible. I think I'm going to like this freedom they are willingly passing out but I didn't miss the look my dad gave me when he said, "And no funny business." 

That's pretty much his equivalent of a sex talk. Luckily for him, mom gave me a blunter version of that speech many years ago and I have been properly educated about safe sex. I think hearing my dad say the word sex would be enough to make me turn green. So I quickly agreed to his statement and moved along. Little does he know that ship has sailed but we'll let him keep thinking I'm not that grown up yet. 

"Are the guys still going to pick up their tuxes tonight?" I asked Quinn as I shoved my Econ book into my locker. 

"I think so. I haven't talked to Sam today so as far as I know, that's still the plan." as she says the words I can tell her mind is elsewhere. 

"Things still off with you two?" I've tried not to push that subject either, it seems like I'm skating around everyone's big feelings these days but hey, who am I to be the one to push them to talk about it? I'm a wear your-heart-on your-sleeve kinda girl, if I'm upset, you're gonna know it. Quinn not so much. She likes her armor and I let her keep it on until I can't take it anymore. She's lucky I've got 8,000 things happening right now or I'd be peeling her out of it so she's safe... for now. 

"They're fine." she shrugs her shoulders. "Honestly, just kinda over it. I'm more excited to spend time with the girls this weekend than anything. Our hair appointments are at 12 pm. Don't be late." 

I roll my eyes at her insinuating that I would be late, I'm only late occasionally...often, so I stick my tongue out at her, " I won't." 

She stares blankly, "Forget it. I'm picking you up, I'll be there to get you at 11." 

"Uh! I can get there on time, on my own!" 

Just as I am passionately defending myself Layla walks up to us, "What's got you so worked up?" 

Quinn tilts her head toward Layla and says, " Sydney says she will make it to our hair appointments on her own and on time." 

"You better pick her up." 

My mouth hung open as my eyes moved back and forth between my two best friends. "I am offended and deeply hurt by your lack of faith in me." I throw my hand over my heart to really add some drama to my pain. They both look at me unmoved before Layla breaks out in hysterical laughter as Quinn follows. 

Layla's long arm wraps around my shoulder and Quinn's dainty one laces with mine on the other side as we walk down the hall. "We love you Sydney Graves but when it comes to being on time you cannot be trusted." 

I scoff as they laugh, because even though I will never admit it, they may have a point. 

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