Exotic

~ high hopes ~

"You are completely ignoring me."

I startled. Aaron was glaring at me over my textbooks. I was not entirely awake, having reached my physical and mental limit for a Friday. He had taken it upon himself to turn our usual hangouts into study session; claiming I would get humiliated on Tuesday by my Tranquillity tutor if I didn't have a handle on basic essay structure. He didn't even take Mod, but he was determined to see me graduate.

"Hmm?" I murmured. My hangover had subsided, but my focus was waning.

"I've been talking absolute nonsense for three minutes to see if you were listening," Aaron frowned. "I asked for your opinion on the government conspiracy to harvest the moon and you said it made sense from an economic standpoint."

I was surprised I had the brainpower to articulate words like economic and standpoint. "I was joking."

"You look like shit," Aaron advised me.

"I'm not sleeping well," I scrubbed my face with both hands. I'd woken up to Reece rifling around in my room, claiming to be collecting my washing. The man had never done my washing in his life; I had been hesitant to leave him alone with access to my room, but I trusted the security of my walk-in. He hadn't found it for two years, after all.

Caleb hadn't texted me back, but he'd seen the photo. I'd glimpsed him for a second in the hallway, uniform visibly unironed. I considered sending another text and calling him out on it, but I didn't want to push my luck. He'd surprised me the night before, both by caring enough to drive me home and trusting me enough to open up when I pried. He might have done it under the assumption I would be too drunk to remember, but I recalled every word. Especially the notion that he had slept in his car to save me a beating from Aidan.

He'll take out his frustrations on Aaron or Max or you.

"Right, well, we're clearly getting nowhere," Aaron closed his textbook with a snap. "Max doesn't finish training until four-thirty. Do you want to go get loaded fries?"

I could have kissed him. We drove to the local diner and ate way too many chilli slathered chips, for which my hangover thanked me for immensely, before Aaron's phone buzzed and we were on our way back to school.

Max was waiting by the soccer field with his duffle bag at his feet and a brunette girl on his arm. He was stroking her hair off her face, making her laugh with a likely unfunny joke. Aaron and I wore identical expressions of distaste, as Max picked up his bag and left the girl hanging with his fingers lingering on her waist.

He slid into the backseat, wearing a dopey grin.

"I was going to ask how you were coping with being benched this weekend, but it looks like you'll have a buddy to keep you company," Aaron told him dryly.

"Don't be like that," Max kicked the back of his seat. "Her name is Georgia and she's adorable."

"Georgia... oh shit," Aaron's eyes went wide. "Georgianna McCaffrey, as in Aidan's sister?"

Max cracked his knuckles, one by one. "I warned you."

"I thought you were kidding!"

"Chill. I'm not going to have sex with her. Just take her out for a nice dinner after the game, hit Isadora's eighteenth together and let McCaffrey's imagination do the rest," Max smirked. "That's what he gets for having Trout bench me half the season."

"And you think seducing his sister is going to get you back on the pitch?" I asked him wryly.

"What's he going to do, fight me?" Max challenged. "He's on probation."