Page 15 of Fragile

Indie’s hand slaps down on the table between us, startling me for a second. “There is a point,” she insists. Her wide blue eyes pin me with determination. She’s a great friend, the best, and I can’t imagine my life without her now. “You haven’t dated anyone since freshman year, and you can’t keep waiting for something to miraculously happen. That’s not the Quinn I know.”

I wave her off, even though she’s right. I’m stubborn and go after what I want. Well, usually. “I’ll get over it. This happens sometimes.” It’s the truth. I go through phases of love and loss without having ever romantically been involved with the person I love. It’s like sunshine without the warmth. Ice cream without the sugar high. But the thing is, I wouldn’t change how I feel.

Unrequited love sucks. But never having known what it’s like to love him, even if it’s from afar, that would suck more. I know I only have myself to blame because I expose myself to him almost daily and remain silent. No words pass my lips as my heart ricochets around my chest when he’s nearby. Not a single syllable slips out to admit the truth as my body thrums when he walks into a room. I’ve trained myself well to appear nonchalant, yet inside I’m burning, yearning, and testing the limits of how high my blood pressure can go.

“I’m not accepting that.” One thing I know about Indie is, she rarely gives up when her sights are set on something. “You need to date again,” she demands. I go to protest, but as luck would have it, Jay and Hudson choose this exact moment to join us at the table.

“Who needs a date? I’m available.” Hudson grins, mid-chomp on a carrot stick, placing his tray of food on our table. Jay sits next to him and shakes his head.

I’ve gotten used to Hudson’s advances. Weirdly, I think it’s just in his nature to be flirty and he doesn’t mean much by it. Unless he wants to piss my brother off.

“No one needs a date,” I say, just as Indie announces, “Quinn does.”

Excellent. Let’s bring more people into this.

I watch as Hudson’s grin grows and those dark brown eyes twinkle at me. “I’ve told you before, Quinn. I’m always down for a little action.”

“Oh, well, in that case, please whisk me away and do your worst, because I’m totally interested,” I quip. Fluttering my eyelashes at him, he just stares at me, food paused halfway to his lips.

“Wait—”

“It’s called sarcasm, Huds. Don’t get excited.” As I roll my eyes playfully, Jay laughs next to him. He focuses his gaze on me and smiles.

“Como vais, Quinn?”

My brain immediately boots into Portuguese mode, the little I know, but I hesitate, thinking about how I want to say what I need to. “Estou de boa… E tu?”

His smile widens as he pushes his black-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Very good pronunciation. You’re doing well. I’m all good, though, if you don’t count the fact that Hudson here”—he elbows his friend in the ribs—“needed rescuing from a hookup gone wrong at two a.m. this morning.”

Hudson grunts and chews through his mouthful before answering. “She went all clingy on me. I freaked. She locked the door to her dorm and everything. I felt like I was trapped. The only way out was to tell her my best friend was outside having an anaphylactic shock and I had his EpiPen.”

Silence dances over us as Indie frowns at Hudson. “Your logic is warped. Have you ever tried honesty?”

Hudson scoffs. “I told a girl once I was horny and wanted to have sex with her, and she slapped me and left. Honesty makes me an asshole, apparently.”

I stifle a laugh. Good for her, I’d slap him too. “With charming words like that? I’m shocked.” I mock gasp.

“I know, right?” Hudson agrees, then shoves more food into his mouth.

“You’re hopeless.” Jay snickers before devouring his pasta.

Hudson growls but says no more, and when he emerges a few minutes later from his now empty lunch plate, he locks eyes with me again. “So, why do you need a date?”

“I don’tneeda date. Iwanta date. There’s a difference,” I insist, just as another body joins us and my skin prickles with awareness. I know exactly who has just sat next to me because my body is attuned to his nearness.

“Hey, Miles, we’re just helping Quinn get a date.”

“And you and Seb are not going to sabotage,” Indie adds with a pointed look.

I glare venomously at the people in front of me, my so-called friends who are insistent on meddling.

Hudson ignores me, continuing to talk to Miles. “You get the email from coach about the meet later?”

“Yeah, we’re reviewing tapes before the game.”

Hudson nods, and then Miles turns to face me, his brown eyes curious. “You want to date Hudson?” he asks, his low baritone voice hitting me square in the ribs, reminding me who I really want in this façade. Something rattles inside me like a loose screw, unsettling me again.

“Listen, I’m available—” Hudson begins.

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