Page 202 of Well Played

“You must have made an impression.” Toa holds out a fist for a bump, then sits on the couch across from me. “Now, I want you to describe everything. What was he wearing? Is his skin soft or does he have calluses? Was his grip decisive?”

“You never let up, Toa.” Mina throws up her hands. “Since we seem to have shelved the current crisis, I’m going to go back to working on my final Econ project. Let me know when we’re heading to dinner.”

“I was just going to grab something here and then head to the library.” Mina nods my way and makes her way down the hallway to her room. I know she’s going to give me some time to decompress with Toa and take my mind off things before we talk through my options. I’m grateful—not for the first time this year—that I have a roommate who really understands me, even if her delivery is a little chilly sometimes.

“You know it’s haunted, right? Demien Wright says he saw something creepy freshman year. And Blair Bruno said she felt something follow her into the bathroom last year.”

I smile for the first time in what seems like hours. “You’ve been telling me that for four years, Toa. And Demien was probably high.”

Toa smirks. “You do have a point. Now let’s get back to discussing the Beast.”

Later,after forcing myself to focus for an hour downstairs, I’m standing on the roof of our library looking out at the skyline of my university and the nearby town of Fall River. Lights blink on in homes and businesses as twilight deepens to sunset. I take a deep breath of the spring air, savoring the clean, crispness of the trees as they awaken from their winter slumber and loving the serenity of this place. I know I won’t have it much longer. I can't tell anymore if I’m excited or terrified that I’ll have to find a new happy place when I move to New York. This transition is especially rough, considering that I don’t have a place to land yet.

I take my phone out of my pocket, sighing as I key past my lock screen and open our college app. I know I need to thank the Beast for trying to help, and this seems like the easiest way to do it. I ignore that it also seems like I’m hiding behind tech instead of doing it face to face.

CJ: Thanks for trying to help me today. I’m sorry I yelled. I was overwhelmed.

I’m surprised when those three little caterpillar bubbles appear. The last thing I expect is for him to be online right now, especially since he hadn’t answered my last DM.

Beast: You’re welcome.

I bite my cheek as I think for a minute, wondering if he’ll answer the question I really want the answer to.

CJ: Why did you come after me?

The little bubbles appear and disappear a couple of times before he responds.

Beast: That thing you said at the end of class—about your anxiety. I understood it.

I stare at my screen because that statement blows my mind. There’s no way the Beast knows anything about anxiety. Hell, the guy’s got his future practically paved in gold and it’s waiting for him just after graduation. I try to untangle my thoughts to respond when two more messages pops up in quick succession.

Beast: And I was impressed that you know yourself so well and were able to come up with such a killer answer.

Beast: Plus, you said you were a fan and that I had a nice ass.

I snort loudly, scaring a pigeon from her nest on the ledge at his unexpected sauciness. I smile at my phone.

CJ: Are you flirting with me?

Beast: If you have to ask, I must not be doing that great a job. Where are you?

I stare at the question, mind whirling. I would think that’s a booty call sort of response, but Beast doesn’t hook up. The thought of meeting up with him again, alone, though, definitely doesn’t suck, even if he won’t fulfill some of my more colorful college fantasies.

CJ: Library roof.

I make myself comfortable on the ratty patio furniture someone thought to bring up here at some point. It smells funky, but I always bring a blanket of my own so it’s not too terrible. As the minutes tick by I try to look casual, try to quell the butterflies taking flight in my stomach. When a few more minutes go by and he still hasn’t appeared, I squash my disappointment and lean back to stare at the emerging stars. I keep my mind purposefully off the negative and try to ground myself with thoughts of a positive future. Things will work out. They have to.

“You look comfortable.” He appears like a shadow, dressed all in black, striding toward me as he takes a look around the roof. He sounds annoyed when he adds, “I didn’t know this was up here. It’s nice.”

I jolt at his arrival and smile at how affronted he sounds. “I love the library, and this is my very favorite part of it. Pretty sure that some frustrated librarians or secret society of grad students must meet up here.” I wave my arm at the couch. “Have a seat.”

He does. He sits right next to me instead of at the other end, so close that his thick thigh touches mine and I feel the heat of him through my jeans. I clear my throat.

He rubs his palms on his joggers staring at his hands before his eyes finally meet mine. His dark hair falls over his forehead. “I’m glad you texted. I wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened earlier.”

It’s unexpected. Sweet. Though being treated like a victim makes me want to pick at my cuticles. “Yeah. I’m working through it. It’s just…classes, graduation, the future. Everything. It’s a lot. And then today happened…” I don’t put words to whatever weirdness is happening with Watts because it’s just so next level that it feels like it’s happening to someone else. “Plus, Idon’t have a job or anything lined up yet and it’s freaking me out more by the day.”

He blows out a breath and nods. “I get that. So, your anxiety isn’t performance related? I saw that you’re a stage management major. I figured that, when Watts called on you today, it might be a stage fright thing.”

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