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Chance’s stony expression is full of distrust. It hurts a little, because we’ve had each other’s backs since we were kids.

“You’ll have to figure out things with your family, and with Ares. All I can promise you is that if, by that time, Zara is stillinterested in you, I won’t stand in your way if you want to shoot your shot with her.”

Incredulity is written all over my best friend’s face. I get it. I can’t fucking believe what I just said, either.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Chance asks.

I pull him into a headlock, dragging him toward the Human Sciences building. “Because I want Zara to be all in if she chooses me. And because you’re the brother I’ve never had. I can’t be happy if I know that you’re hurting.”

Chance pushes me away, but then slaps my back, his tone grateful. “What if Zara chose me?”

I sigh. “We’ll cross that bridge if it comes to that. But she won’t. She’s going to choose me.”

He laughs, but this time there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “We’ll see about that. What are we going to do about Ares?”

“He’s going to have to figure his shit out by himself.” I shrug. “Look, he’s like an older brother to me. And what I said to you a second ago still stands. I want Zara to choose me without any what ifs. I guess Ares is included in that. Let’s go now, dude. We’re gonna be late for class.”

Chapter 17

First Date

ZARA

Ilike it here.

This entire campus looks like my old boarding school, but bigger and better. I’ve seen a lot of university brochures and in California some places tend to embrace the local, mission style architecture. They have their own charm, but Star Cove college went in a different direction. Red brick buildings adorned by baroque style ornaments, ivy climbing most of the oldest structures on campus. I’ve even spotted a gargoyle looking down at the students entering the main library.

It looks as if someone took an Ivy League college on the East Coast and transported it to this small coastal town in California.

And I’m here for it.

Today I have two classes in the morning, and then I plan to go to the library to start putting in order the syllabus we received, and maybe even get ahead with some of the reading material.

“Do you want to go grab some lunch?” Heather asks with a smile.

Having a class with her was really nice. We sat together, and it was a relief not to have to assess every face, every posture to decide who looked friendly.

“I could eat. I had a bigger breakfast than usual, but it feels as if it was forever ago.”

“Duh,” Heather chuckles. “It’s because it was. I need to eat something before tryouts. I don’t want to pass out on the mat.”

I’ve never paid much attention to cheerleading, so I’m confused by this tryout stuff. “Forgive me for asking, but weren’t you recruited by one of their scouts? Why would they have you try out?”

Heather explains. “Being recruited gives you a spot on the team, but not a guaranteed spot on the performing squad. The team will be much bigger than the group that will actually get to compete. There are gonna be several alternates for each position. So some people might be trying out to get an actual spot in the team today, but the coaches will also choose the A team, B team, and so on. My objective is the A team, of course.”

It makes sense.

We decide to try the main dining hall, we should find a variety of food on offer there.

“Your club sandwich looks good,” Heather throws a lustful look at my plate, while cutting into a piece of grilled chicken that doesn’t look very exciting.

“Are you sure you don’t want half? There’s more than enough to share.”

She looks conflicted. “I know, but it’s on white bread. It’s the naughtiest carb you can really have.”

I’m about to tell her that half a sandwich won’t impair her performance, but I’m distracted by my phone.

It buzzes with an incoming message, and I can’t resist the urge to check it out.

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