Page 105 of Playing Games

I mean, my dream girl created an app, and I was the inspiration?Hell fucking yes.

“You’re wrong, Lex.” I waggle my brows. “You should’ve told me about it. Though, I’m still waiting for you to let me play around with it.”

“You want to find out if you’re compatible with Blake Boden?” She quirks a teasing brow at me, and I just squeeze her cute little ass and lift her up into my arms.

“Fuck that Blake Boden guy,” I say, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “The only person I want to be compatible with is Lexi Lou Winslow. Always and forever, baby.”

And then, I press several more playful kisses to her lips and her nose and her forehead and each of her cheeks.

She giggles, and I spend another five minutes kissing her some more. Because that’s what you do when Lexi Lou Winslow is your girlfriend—you fuckingkissher.

Even if you end up having to sprint across campus to make it to class on time.

PART 2

Lexi

I’ve spent so much of my college career at the Nash Mathematics Center that I can name every floor, every lecture hall, every professor and where their office is located. I know that there are a total of ten bathrooms scattered across all the floors, centrally located near the elevators and stairs. And I know that this building hosts one of the creepiest basements you’ll ever enter.

It’s only a little after six in the evening and the sun still hasn’t made its full descent into the horizon, but the main hallway of the basement is dark as I walk down it. I’ve been in this basement a total of twenty-two times. Hosted eight Double C events here. Ironically enough, the last Double C event I hosted here was the first time I met Blake.

It was also the night that I watched Finn kick an ex-UFC fighter’s ass and walked out with an extra three hundred bucks in my pocket.

My phone buzzes in my hand, breaking my train of thought. I glance at the screen, and a smile tugs at my lips when I see the sender.

Ginger: Guess who has an interview with Apple?

Me: Tim Cook’s long-lost niece?

Ginger: Close. Ginger Lewis, soon-to-be Queen of Code. Silicon Valley better roll out the red carpet.

Me: When’s the big coronation?

Ginger: Thursday at 10 a.m. Let’s all pray that I don’t blow it.

Me: You won’t.

Ginger: You’re right. I won’t. And then I’ll be so freaking happy! And you’ll be happy too, because your favorite Ferris pal can send you free swag.

Me: I’ll take a Macbook. Thanks.

Ginger: You’ll be happy with Apple stickers and, like, a pen or two. Oh! By the way, I saw that ESPN footage, making the rounds again on TikTok…

Me: Don’t remind me.

Ginger: Don’t remind you? Lex, that footage is ICONIC. Your studly football star boyfriend kissed you on the mouth in the middle of the field and was looking down at you like you’re the love of his life because, well, you are. Sheesh. I’m still swooning over here, you lucky bitch. Also, it did remind me of something very important…

Me: And that important thing would be?

Ginger: You still owe me lunch. And a full-fledged rundown of everything that’s happened between you and Mr. Football Star. I’m talking alllll the details.

Me: How about next Friday? Then, you can tell me all about the big interview.

Ginger: Oh honey, count me in. I’ll text you next week to harass you about a time and a place.

I laugh and tuck my phone back into my bag just as a voice calls out behind me.

“Lex!”

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