Page 25 of Sidelined Love

“Thanks, honey.”

I watch him unlock his car door before turning toward mine. “Text me to let me know when you get back to campus, okay?” he asks.

“Of course. And drive safe.”

“You too.”

As I climb into my car and close the door, I'm happy to be somewhat shut off from the world once more. Why does it feel like everything is changing when nothing really has?

I start the engine but don't pull out immediately. Instead, I sit there for a moment longer and let myself think about what Dad said. About him dating again.

For some reason, my mind drifts back to memories of him being there for every event that I had as a child, even before my mother took off. The thought of someone else standing beside him at future events is both warming and chilling at the same time.

I'm happy for him; I am. He deserves to find someone who makes him laugh and feel loved in ways that go beyond what I can offer as his daughter. But a part of me is still reeling from what Mom did and feels like it's losing something all over again.

Dad's words repeat in my head—this doesn't change anything between us—and I hold onto them as I finally pull out of the parking spot and drive back to campus.

By the time I park in my apartment building's parking lot and kill the engine, I'm ready for a much-needed nap. With a quiet sigh, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, allowing myself a moment to just be before leaving the comfort of my car and closing the rest of the world off once I shut my front door behind me.

10

LEVI

I'm not sure if I've ever been more tired in my life.

Having both hockey practice and a mandatory presentation that I needed to attend is brutal. I feel as if I can fall asleep standing up without any trouble and that's unusual for me.

I'm almost in a trance as I'm walking across the quad to get back to my car. A few people that I don’t recognize wave to me, and it takes all of my energy to wave back to them. Must maintain the image I've created because coming across as rude could easily make waves for me at school and on the internet.

After I finish waving at the last of them, I realize something is very different here.

The campus quad is alive in a way I'd never seen before. Strings of fairy lights dance between the trees, casting a soft glow on the faces of students who lounge on the grass. There are food trucks lined up on the street nearby, and I find myself wondering how the hell I didn't know this was happening.

At the center of it all is a makeshift stage, where a local band is belting out their covers of today's pop hits.

I'm vibing along with the music, allowing the rhythm to draw me in. I'm exhausted and only plan on staying here for a minute more when something—or rather, someone—catches my eye.

Like a moth to a flame, my eyes are drawn to Hailey sitting on a blanket in the grass. It seems as if she, too, is entranced by the music, but there's something different about her. Whereas I'm used to her sharp wit and her being completely focused when she is at work, here she looks… lost.

What put that look on her face?

I shake my head, trying to shake the fatigue that is clouding my mind in case I'm imagining it, but I soon realize this is all real. During the times I've interacted with her, Hailey has been so put together, with an armor that seems meant to protect her from the rest of the world. But now I see a crack in the mask she shows to the outside world. She seems vulnerable and out of her element, and I want to know more.

I hover around the periphery of the crowd, watching as Hailey brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear when it falls out of her messy bun. Is she looking for someone? The thought makes me frown. Why do I even care?

I want to walk over there and ask her if there is anything I can do to help her, but another part of me doesn't think Hailey would want me intruding. I'm torn between acting on instinct and respecting what she might want.

The band switches to a slower tune that the lead singer announces is “Invisible String” by Taylor Swift, but I knew it before he uttered a word. I may have played Folklore on repeat in the months following my brother’s death because it provided relief. The lyrics he is singing are what help me make up my mind. Before I know it, I'm walking through the crowd to get to her.

“Hey,” I say as I approach, making sure that she can hear me over the music while keeping my voice casual despite feeling anything but.

Hailey's eyes pop open. She's startled by my appearance but just as quickly as the shock appeared on her face, her expression changes to one of indifference. “Levi Jamison, hanging out with the general population? Now I've seen everything.”

“It does sometimes happen,” I say before laughing. Brewed Beginnings has become a regular pit stop for me because it gives me an opportunity to see and chat with her, however brief. But unlike when we usually talk there, her words don't have the same bite. It's obvious to me something else is at play. I debate with myself for a split second before I ask, “Mind if I join you?”

For a moment she hesitates, probably weighing the pros and cons, but then she scoots over slightly on the blanket she brought with her.

“I don’t mind,” she replies. I can't help but feel surprised that she's letting me do this.

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