Page 106 of Repairing the Wreckage

Other kids might have gotten jealous about the attention Remy’s mom showered on me. But he never did. If anything, it made him happy she treated me like one of her own. “I know.”

He pulls out his phone and taps out a quick message. Then stares at the screen while he waits for a reply. I jam my hands in my pockets. His phone buzzes and he sends another text.

Done with the exchange, he glances up. “She says Tuesday would be better. There’s a cafe she likes near her dorm. Meet her there at nine? Is that too early?”

Too early? I’d go set up camp there right now if I could. “No.” I lift my chin at the phone in his hands and stuff down my annoyance that she answered his text so fast when she still hasn’t unblocked me. “Are you going to tell her I’m coming instead of you?”

“Nah, bro. I actually want her to get her stuff and she’ll probably dodge you if she knows you’re the one delivering it.”

“Thanks,” I grumble. “We got along okay this weekend.”

“Yeah, and then you took off before she left.”

“Was she that mad about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. More like, confused? Hey, if she gets mad when you’re there instead of me, just toss the stuff at her and run.” He taps his fist against my arm and heads into the kitchen.

Using deception isn’t how I wanted to repair my relationship with Molly. But now I feel even shittier for not saying goodbye to her. This visit can be a sort of a do-over.

Besides, my desire to see her again outweighs my guilt about Remy tricking her into the meeting.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Molly

Excitement at seeing my brother propels me down the stairs of my dorm. I have an hour to spend with him before class. He hasn’t visited me since he helped me move into my dorm room. I’d like to take some time showing him around campus, but we won’t have enough time.

The sidewalks are crowded enough that I veer onto the grass. I pass a few people I recognize and wave a quick hello. My backless sneakers crunch and crackle through the fallen leaves sprinkled all over the lawn.

Seeing Griff this weekend wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be. At least I finally told him how I felt and heard his side a little bit. The night of the carnival is where it turned awkward. And the day after.

As much as I hate admitting it to myself, I miss him so much. I’ve thought about unblocking him and sending him at least a text a million times. But every time I try, all the hurt and embarrassment comes rushing back and I can’t.

Then he went and gave me the bunny. I wanted to thank him again, but he left the house before I had a chance. After packing my car for me. I hated that he left without saying goodbye, but I guess I deserved it.

He’s home now. Living at my house. But for how long?

According to all the Supreme Fighter gossip sites that I have absolutely not spent any time obsessing over, Stonewall was the “fan favorite” of the show. Everyone liked how “real” he was. How he seemed kind of shy and didn’t participate in a lot of antics in the house but was savage in the cage.

Mechanic in a small town? Or professional fighter with adoring fans all over the world? The choice seems pretty obvious.

So no matter what he says, I’m not eager to have my heart broken again when he inevitably leaves.

Enough about Griff. I spent my whole summer trying to get over him. College was supposed to be a new beginning. It has been a fresh start.

Until Griff came home and forced me to confront all the feelings I’ve been trying to escape.

I reach the cafe and stop to glance around. Remy’s kind of hard to miss. I pull out my phone to check if I have any messages from him. Remy’s usually on time. Should I wait outside?

Nothing.

Fine. I’ll be able to buy him breakfast for once. Introduce him to scones. Cheered by the thought, I pull the door to the student union open and trot down the short flight of steps to the cafe. The rich scent of coffee and pastries tickles my nose as I step inside.

My eager gaze scans the small cafe, searching for Remy.

And lands…

…on Griff? Sitting at a table, straight ahead and to my right, watching the door.

---