Page 33 of Pieces

I’ve been feeling off since the day I saw Daphne. Everything feels weird lately. The pressure to lead on the field, to make every play perfect, it’s like I can’t keep up. And I can’t go out to release any tension because I’m still not allowed. Besides, seeing Daphne only made my head spin faster.

By some miracle, I haven’t seen her since that day on the field. I was sure she’d show up at a game or practice and I’d be thinking about how to avoid staring at her. You can’t just glance at her; she’s not the type of girl you glance at. No, she’s the one who knocks the wind out of a guy and leaves him drooling. But she didn’t show up once. Maybe she isn’t that close with her dad? I mean, it’s not like I can ask her, or him, for that matter. Imagine that awkward conversation, jeez.

For the last four-ish weeks, I’ve done exactly what Jay suggested. I’ve been an angel—no hooking up, my professors are still pleased with me, my grades are the best they’ve been, and I’ve gotten more praise from Coach than I’m used to. But I’m not myself. I know, because I live for this scrapbook club. I love these guys. But lately, I’ve struggled to make anything.

“You okay, man?” Seb asks. “You’ve hardly argued with Jay at all today. Something’s up.”

With a huff, I put the tape down and sit back into the sofa. “I’m in a funk.”

Quinn is the first to look over at me. “Aww, honey, you want me to help you with your page?”

Managing a small smile, I shake my head. “Thanks, but I think it’s beyond help. My brain’s just…stuck.”

On her.

Jay looks up from his book, unfolding some of my tape, and I don’t even stop him, which is completely unlike me. “Stuck, like, ‘I can’t figure out where to start,’ or stuck, like, ‘the whole thing is trash and I hate it’?”

“Both,” I admit, slumping back into the sofa.

Indie pauses mid-flip through her postcards and raises an eyebrow. “You’re being dramatic. Your pages are always great.”

“Yeah, but it’s like I’ve done all my best ideas already,” I say, gesturing at the blank page. “And now I’m incapable of creating another masterpiece. Everything feels beige.”

“Maybe you’re just thinking too hard. Cut some stuff, glue some stuff, boom, masterpiece,” Jay says, slapping the piece of tape down to his page.

Miles snorts from across the room, not even looking up from his project. “If Hudson’s not arguing or flirting, something’s seriously wrong.”

I flip him off lazily, but there’s no real bite to it.

Quinn scoots closer, tucking her legs beneath her as she leans toward me. “Is it football? Are you stressed about a game or something?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head, at the same time Seb says, “He’s killing it on the field.”

I appreciate that my captain has noticed. It’s a small mercy for giving everything up to focus on winning with our team.

“Football’s fine. Grades are fine. Everything’s fine, technically.”

“But you’re still in a funk,” she says gently, like she’s coaxing a confession out of me.

“Yeah,” I admit as I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. I just…feel off.”

“We can hit the gym after if you want? Take your mind off whatever’s bothering you. Get some adrenaline rushing through your veins instead,” Seb offers, but I swear I can’t put in any more hours there or I’ll have to pay rent.

“Thanks, man. I’ll be okay. I just need sleep, probably.” Or maybe her. No, stop. That’s not going to happen.

Despite my friends’ attempts to pull me out of my sour mood, my mind keeps drifting back to her, like a song I can’t stop replaying. I push my scissors and tape aside, leaning forward with a sudden decision. “Okay, I’m done for today. But question…”

All eyes swing to me.

“Hypothetically,” I start, trying to sound casual, “if I wanted to find a student, without alerting any faculty or family members, how would I do that?”

Seb is the first to speak, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “Depends. Are you asking for stalker reasons, or romantic reasons?”

“Stalker reasons, obviously,” I deadpan, which earns a snort from Indie. “No, I just…I lost touch with someone. I want to fix that.”

Quinn tilts her head, considering. “Do you know what they’re studying? You could try the department directory. I’m not sure how easily they give out information, though. You may need to turn on the charm.”

“Hmm,” I say, not sure I can pull that off. I mean, not the charming part, but the actual going to get it and failing. I can’t risk anything in case someone knows I’m looking for her.

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