Page 23 of It's Only Ever Been You

“Hey, you’re the one sitting here all broody. Either do something about it or move on, man. There’s a ton of people here who’d be happy to take your mind off things.” He gestures around the room, nodding toward a group of girls by the bar who are looking right back at us.

I glance over, feeling a surge of irritation. But then, almost out of spite, I grab my drink and make my way over to the group. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do need to just move on, stop waiting around for Emma to find time for me.

Juniors like us don’t usually get scout attention until later in the season, but Coach says it’s because a few teams are looking to fill spots faster this year. So I might as well make the most of it.

The girl I end up talking to is Brianna, I think that’s what she said. She’s fun, confident, and clearly interested. We laugh, talk, and for a little while, I actually manage to forget about everything else. But as the night goes on, I feel this nagging sense of emptiness. I keep trying to fill a void that just…not going away.

When Brianna leans in, her hand on my thigh, I know she’s expecting something more, but all I can think about is Emma.

And I hate it.

Then I decide, why the fuck not! So I let Brianna kiss me. That kiss turns into a make out session and the guilt hits me hard.

The next day, I’m back on campus, trying to get my head in the game, but the memory of last night lingers. I end up seeing Emma near the library, her nose buried in a book as usual. She looks up and spots me, her eyes widening a bit, like she’s surprised to see me.

We stand there in awkward silence for a moment before she finally speaks. “How’s football?”

“Fine. How’s, uh…” I motion to her books “whatever it is you’re doing?”

She frowns, clearly not impressed by my sarcasm. “I’m doing great, thanks. Actually, I just got assigned as a teaching assistant for a literature class next semester. It’s not something a junior usually gets but my professor was really impressed by my work.”

“Oh, wow, a teaching assistant. That’s…intense,” I say, feeling a mix of pride for her and jealousy. She’s moving forward, doing these amazing things, and I’m just…stuck.

Her expression softens a bit. “Yeah. It’s kind of a big deal. It’s not something I thought I’d get, honestly.”

“You deserve it, Em,” I say, meaning it, but there’s a bitterness in my voice I can’t hide.

She looks at me, her brows knitting together in that way she does when she’s trying to understand something. “Are we okay, Ethan? It feels like there’s…something off between us.”

I almost laugh at the irony. She’s been so wrapped up in her new world, her new friends, and now she’s wondering what’s changed?

“I don’t know, Emma. Are we?” I don’t try to hide the sarcasm, my voice dripping with it.

She looks away, biting her lip. “I’m sorry if I’ve been distant. This year has just been… a lot for me. I’m trying to figure it all out.”

I nod, the frustration still simmering even as I try to understand. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s been a lot for me too.”

She gives me a small, almost sad smile. “Maybe we’ll both figure it out. Together.”

But as she walks away, I wonder if it’s already too late.

As the weeks pass, our routines fall into place but we’ve drifted apart. Football and training devour every free minute I have, and every time I think about texting Emma, anothercommitment pops up, and my phone stays in my pocket. Still, I catch myself looking for her whenever I walk across campus, half hoping I’ll bump into her.

But every time I see her, she’s buried in her books or with people from her classes. I never realized how serious she was about her major until college hit. Emma’s not just here to breeze through the four years. She’s here on a mission.

One night, after a brutal practice, I manage to escape the team and spot her in the library through the glass. She’s sitting at a table by the window, hunched over, chewing on a pen while she scribbles notes. I let myself watch for a second, maybe just to remind myself of what used to be so easy between us. But then, as if she senses it, she looks up, catching my gaze. I wave, hoping for a sign to come in, but she just gives a small smile and goes back to her book.

I think about texting her, maybe even showing up with her favorite coffee to catch her off guard. But she’s so focused, eyes glued to her books and the rest of the world doesn’t exist. The door’s half-open, and I almost step in, but something stops me. She’s in her own world, and I’m just on the outside, looking in. It seems as though every time I try to reach her, she slips further away, her focus consumed by something that doesn’t include me.

It’s Friday night, and I finally get a break from practice. Some of the guys want to go out, hit up a nearbyparty for drinks, and part of me feels like I need it—a night to let loose, to forget about school and football and everything else I keep telling myself I don’t have time for. I debate on whether I should text Emma, thinking maybe she’ll want to join, but I know it’s a long shot.

Still, I give it a shot.

Me: Going out tonight with some of the guys. Want to come with?

The dots appear for a second, but then they disappear. My stomach twists, but before I can dwell on it, my phone dings.

Emma: Sorry, I’ve got a study group for Lit. Enjoy the night, though!

---