Page 24 of Pieces

Back in my corner, I stare into my drink. Each interaction leaves the same hollow feeling. They’re kind, interesting, beautiful, but it’s like I’m not even there.

The problem isn’t them. It’s me.

Taking a sip of my drink, I turn toward the door just as Quinn and Indie walk in. They don’t even make it two steps inside before Miles and Seb are on them, wrapping them up in hugs and kisses. The way their faces light up makes it all look so effortless. I smile at the sight, but it leaves a weird restlessness behind, a feeling I can’t quite shake.

I drain the remainder of my drink and rest against the wall, letting the music pulse through me like a second heartbeat. Maybe it’s just the drinks messing with me. Or maybe I’m looking for something that isn’t really there.

Shaking my head, I push off the wall and make my way to the kitchen, where I find Jay.

“I’m mad at you.”

He groans, tipping his head back. “You’re like a dog with a bone. I really just forgot about the filter video thing. Jeez, I’ll do it now.”

My face scrunches. “What? No. I’m not talking about that. I don’t care about that anymore.”

Jay looks at me, his brow drawn. “Then why are you mad at me?”

I scoff, leaning against the counter beside him. “My radar’s broken.”

“Your what?”

“My hookup radar.” I gesture around the room. “Nothing’s clicking tonight. And it’s your fault,” I say as I jab his chest.

Jay snorts. “How is thatmyfault?”

“Your stupid no-sex rule. You’ve cursed me,” I say dramatically, though I don’t really believe it. Not entirely, anyway.

He crosses his arms. “First, that’s ridiculous. Second, you broke that rule after the Gracie concert, remember?”

Like I could fucking forget that night.

“It’s not my fault your dick is being picky, Huds. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling you to continue to slow things down with your sex life. It’s only a matter of time before you end up in trouble, you know.”

I laugh at him because that’s ridiculous. I wrap it up every single time and use my own condoms to be sure they’re not tampered with. You can’t be too careful with the cleat chasers.

“Whatever, man. I’m not hooking up tonight, so it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Jay grumbles. “What if I want to hook up? You planning on joining if you’re not leaving my side?”

I scoff, almost choking on air. “What? No. But if I’m not getting any, then neither are you.”

Jay quirks an eyebrow, tipping his cup to his mouth. “That’s not how this works. I’m a free agent.”

“Not anymore. Consider yourself benched.”

He has the audacity to laugh. “You don’t get to make that call.”

“Sure, I do. I’m basically your emotional chaperone now,” I deadpan.

“You’re the worst best friend ever.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to help,” I say, raising my chin defiantly. If I’m going down, then he’s coming with me this time. “Let’s celebrate our celibacy with another drink.”

Chapter twelve

Daphne

Thecampusisquiettonight, the kind of quiet that makes you hyperaware of your own breathing. Downstairs, music thumps from the common room, and bursts of laughter echo through the halls. Girls in the corridor are talking about a football party, their voices shrill with excitement, but I’ve stayed put. Marcie, from my communications class, texted me earlier, asking if I wanted to go with her and her friends. But the weight of my open notebook and unfinished project keeps me anchored here.

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