Page 6 of The Wrong Quarterback

“Um, thanks?” I said, trying to sound casual, even though I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. I forced a smile. “It has been a while.”

He nodded, but before he could respond, the group of guys he’d been with reached us. I recognized some of them from the photos Gray had posted online over the years.

One of them, a cute brown haired guy, slapped him on the shoulder. “Who’s this?” he asked, his eyebrows moving up and down as he grinned at me.

Gray’s arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me into his side.

Huh…that was…different. Everything I wanted, but not what I expected after not seeing him for two years.

“This is Casey,” he said, introducing me like I was some sort of prize. His voice was light and casual, but there was something in his tone that felt off.

I glanced up at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was watching his friends, waiting for their reactions.

One by one, his friends looked me over, and I could feel the sliminess of their stares. They weren’t subtle about it, theirknowing smiles making my skin crawl. I forced another smile. These were Gray’s friends. I wanted them to like me.

There was a brief, awkward pause before Gray cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to my car and then back to me. “So, uh, I assume you have some boxes you need carried in? We’ve got a frat barbecue at two, so I’ll need to get going soon.”

I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to hide my disappointment. I’d been hoping we could catch up. Maybe have lunch or something. But I remembered now that he’d told me he’d gotten into a fraternity last year. I knew that was a big deal at Tennessee.

“Oh yeah, of course. It’s just a few things,” I told him, stepping out of his embrace and moving to open the back.

Gray glanced in the trunk and raised an eyebrow. “Is that everything?” he asked with a cute grin. “I was expecting more.”

“Yep, that’s all of it. I think my dorm’s right over there,” I said, nodding toward the orange bricked building in front of us. I, of course, didn’t tell him that Mama hadn’t bothered going shopping with me before school. And wanting to start over meant that I bought what I could with my meager savings—and it wasn’t much.

Gray grabbed the boxes and told the guys he would meet them in a little bit. I waved goodbye to them and then locked my car before following Gray to the dorm, my nerves settling just a little with each step. I was really here.

My dorm building was old, the walls lined with bulletin boards advertising campus events and welcome parties. The air smelled faintly of something industrial, like old carpet cleaner, but I didn’t care. Everything was the opposite of where I’d been.

Just what I wanted.

“406?” Gray asked, his breath coming out a bit heavy from the weight of the boxes and the stairs we’d just come up.

“Yep.”

We passed a few more rooms, and then we were there in front of an old, nondescript, wooden door. I quickly pulled out the key I’d gotten in my new student packet and swung the door open.

I grinned when I saw inside.

It was small and old, nothing in it but two twin beds on opposite walls, a couple of desks shoved under the single window, and a shared dresser.

But I thought it was glorious.

The walls were bare, the beige cinder block kind that had been featured in every college dorm room since the dawn of time. Maybe some would think it felt a little prison-like. But after living in those quiet walls the past two years, not being allowed to do anything, and listening to my mom’s tears around the clock—this felt like anythingbuta prison.

One of the beds had some suitcases on it, and clothes were already strewn all over, but there wasn’t any other sign of my roommate. She’d left me the bed closest to the window, though, with the view of the green just outside—that seemed like a good sign.

Gray set my stuff down and glanced around, rubbing the back of his neck. “Cozy.”

I laughed “Yeah. Cozy.”

“I’d forgotten how tiny the dorms are.”

“Oh, yes, you’re the cool guy who lives in the fraternity house now,” I teased.

He grinned, and the little butterflies came back.

“You look good,” I blurted out before I could stop myself—immediately wishing that there was a way for me to fall through the floor and disappear.

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