Page 25 of Love and Other Goals

I do not, in fact, get started the next day. Though, I try.

I take my laptop to my favorite place on campus, the huge study room in the library. It’s nicknamed the Harry Potter Room because of its resemblance to the Hogwarts dining room, with its high ceilings, rows of tables, and giant windows. I hope the change in scenery will help me concentrate so I can make progress on my personal statement.

I open the Word document on my screen and stare at the flashing cursor. How do I begin explaining why I want to be a lawyer? How do I sum up a long-held dream, the ambition that has guided every decision over the past six years of my life? The personal statement is supposed to be a “short essay,” but I feel like I need to sit down with the admissions reps for an entire afternoon in order to convey why I need to go to law school.

With zero words written, I turn on my Mindful Mellow playlist, thinking maybe it will inspire great thoughts to come pouring through my fingertips onto the screen. Lana del Rey croons gently through my earbuds while I stare until my laptop screen blacks out from inactivity.

My phone pings with a text, and I look to see Mateo has sent me a screenshot of the weather forecast for tomorrow afternoon. Partly cloudy with a high of eighty. A gift in a Kansas September. I’m surprised by the rush of serotonin filling my brain as I think about hanging out with Mateo again.

I close my laptop, effectively giving up for the day, and text Mateo instead.

Excited for our hiking date tomorrow afternoon

Three dots immediately start swirling.

Mateo

Not as excited as I am

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Would you at least wear a cute athletic skort?” Teegan pleads with me, frustration in her voice.

“No, Teegs,” I state firmly. “We are going on a hike. I am not wearing a skirt. I’m just going to wear shorts and an athletic tank. I do not need to look cute for this.”

Teegan groans as I wrap my hair up in a messy bun. She pouts her lower lip. “This is Kansas; it’s not even a real hike. You can wear an athletic skirt to walk along a trail.”

I can’t help but laugh. Dressing me in just the right outfit is one of Teegan’s love languages, but I’m not going to be swayed this time. I want to feel comfortable hiking (okay, walking) so my brain can concentrate on my conversation with Mateo today. He’s going to pick me up in about ten minutes to drive to a trailhead on the opposite edge of campus.

Lacing up my tennis shoes, I nod and reply, “Mmhmm,” to all of Teegan’s reminders to have fun, forget about Aaron, and remember every detail to report back later.

I’m guessing Mateo might be early again, so I throw my belt bag over my head as I bound down the stairs. Sure enough, he’s coming up the walkway as I head out the front door. He somehow manages to look equally as attractive in athletic shorts and a performance tee as he did dressed up nice for our first date.

Mateo smiles and greets me. As he opens the truck door for me, my eyes are drawn to the shift of the muscles in his shoulders, and I’m grateful to be wearing lightweight athletic gear as a flush heats my face.

After starting the truck, Mateo pauses. “Is it okay if we stop by the soccer complex real quick? Coach swears he told us to turn in attendance sheets at practice this morning, but no one remembered. We can’t accuse Coach of forgetting, so I need to drop it off.”

“Of course, not a problem at all,” I reply. Despite the popularity of the home soccer matches among the student body, I haven’t ever been to the soccer complex before.

I take a drink from the water bottle Mateo had waiting in the cup holder for me as we pull up to the soccer complex. “You’re welcome to come look around if you want,” Mateo offers.

I hop out and follow him through the parking lot. We head around to the side of the complex, where the building with the offices and locker rooms sits at one end of the field. I can’t go into the locker room, obviously, so I explore as I wait.

Walking down the sideline of the field, I see a few soccer balls apparently forgotten after practice earlier that day. I’m scanning the chalk markings on the grass, imagining the crowds cheering in the stands for Mateo and the team. I gently kick one of the balls onto the edge of the field and run my foot back and forth over its surface.

“Ever been to a match before?” Mateo asks as he jogs up behind me. I shake my head.

“No, but I can imagine how pumped the crowd gets when Townsend wins. With the stands so close to the field, it must get loud. Everyone loves the soccer team here,” I say.

Mateo shrugs. “Yeah, I guess so. It is really fun to hear the crowd get going when we’re close to shooting on goal.”

I stare pensively out at the field. Mateo frowns and asks if I’m okay, and I make a decision.

I turn to face him, the soccer ball still at my feet between us. “You know on our date when you asked me what would surprise my friends about past Lana?”

He nods. “Of course I do.”

I give a small smirk. “Well, I told you about my lawn care business, but I could have also told you that I played seven years of competitive soccer.”

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