Page 25 of False Start

I’ve talked to him, here and there, since we went our separate ways at the end of summer, but we mostly just keep it casual. Talk about classes and college, but not about his confession the last time I saw him—that he’s in love with me.

Austin, my best friend in the entire world—is in love with me. Like actual love. Although, it did sound like maybe he wasn’t totally sure, like maybe he thinks I’m all he knows and maybe if he goes to college away from me, he’ll find someone he actually loves.

I rub at the spot on my chest, right over my heart to try to ease the ache there. I don’t know how I feel about that. I mean... it’s not like I don’t love him, but I’m not sure I could ever...

Yeah. No. I’m straight.

I think.

I don’t know what’s going on with me. All I know is I can’t think about anything but Austin and him being in love with me. The raw, wrenching pain I saw on his face when he told me is what I see and hear before I go to bed at night and the very first thing I think about when I wake up.

“How was your day?” Vanessa is talking to me, I realize, as we make it to my dorm, and I swipe my student ID to go inside.

“Fine.” We reach the elevator and go up to the sixth floor.

She laughs as I check my phone for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Fine? Why don’t I believe you?”

We go into my dorm room—which I’m lucky is actually a single. All the athlete dorms are. So I have the room to myself, a twin bed, and even a spot for a desk. It’s a hell of a lot nicer than Vanessa’s, where she wound up with a roommate who hasn’t said more than two words to me since we’ve been here.

“I’m just tired, I guess.” I know it’s a lie, but for some reason, I haven’t told Van about what Austin said. I don’t think it’s my place—even though I know she wouldn’t be mad about it. It’s not like I’m going to act on it—or him, for that matter. She’d probably think it’s funny and tease us relentlessly.

I flop down on my bed, and she straddles my lap, her hands going to my shoulders. “Poor baby.”

I stare at my phone as she tries to massage the tension from my shoulders.

She laughs. “Why do I think this is more than just being tired?”

I look at my phone again and then shrug, meeting her eyes. “I sent him a text before class, but he hasn’t responded.”

She laughs again, one of her fingers tracing over my collarbone, dipping my shirt collar down to touch bare skin. “Aw, I’m sorry, baby. Maybe I can distract you.” She leans in, going for my neck, but just then my phone vibrates in my hand.

I startle and accidentally dump her on the floor with a thump. “Oh shit. Sorry.” I reach for her as I hit the accept button, seeing my best friend’s face on my screen. “Austin, hey.”

He looks amused as he watches Vanessa climb up off the floor and next to me. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope. Just your dumbass best friend dropping me on my ass,” Vanessa says with a teasing glare at me.

“Sorry.” I cringe.

“Suuuure,” she teases and looks at the screen. “You look good, Austin.”

He really does. I think he actually has a tan, which—he’s not super pale, but I didn’t expect him to be tan. I thought he’d shove himself into a library and never go outside.

He laughs. “Thanks. Sorry about your butt.”

Vanessa cackles, light and free and totally happy. “Eh, it’ll be fine. It’s a good butt.”

Austin just grins, shaking his head. “You okay?” I know he’s talking to me now, and I wonder if I can get by with lying to him. Because I’m definitely not okay. Not even a little bit. I miss him like crazy, and I don’t know how I’m going to make it the rest of the year like this. “I’m fine. Just hadn’t heard from you.”

I can’t really figure out what his face is doing right now—not exactly a frown, but he doesn’t look happy either. He’s walking outside, and as he passes people, they seem to know him by name as they say hi. “I’m sorry. I was in class.” He doesn’t sound defensive or irritated, so that’s a relief. Not that he owes me an explanation. “I’m heading to the library.”

I smile. “Of course you are.”

There’s that smile I swear he used to only reserve for me, but I don’t know. He passes another person he seems to know and shoots them the same smile and a happy wave. “Can I call you later?”

Right. Because he’s busy making new friends—smart friends, probably—who want to go to the library. Yay. Fun times. I try not to be a jealous prick, though, and put on a smile of my own—though I doubt it looks nearly as real. “Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later.”

“K. Bye, Van.”

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