Page 115 of False Start

Thirty Minutes Until Graduation! Pick you up in ten!

The mandatory mini-camp kept Trent occupied with football things and all week, at first, I’d been glad. I liked Trent too much. I needed space. But, as the week wore on, loneliness set it and the texts never stopped.

TRENT

Good morning, Kitten! How’d you sleep?

I friended the Cougar’s new owner! He’s got a blog and he’s fixing our car up!

Did I leave our rally trophy at your apartment? I want to bring it to the stadium and show all the guys.

If we’re just friends, you’ve got to message me back.

Dozens of texts and a phone call every night, like clockwork. Strictly friendly. Not a single whiff of flirtation.

I hated that I noted the absence. Worse, I hated how much I missed him.

I’ll meet you downstairs. Let me know when you pull up.

Before I convinced myself to wipe it off, I finished applying makeup and gave my reflection a smile.

The only reason I’d pulled out the makeup was a secret perversion intended to wow Trent, and I’d failed miserably. My eyeshadow looked unnatural and my mascara clumpy. The adorable pink dress I’d picked out with Derek earlier in the week felt childish and oddly overdressed now that I’d put it on. The sweetheart neckline was too low and the flared skirt too puffy.

The urge to call and cancel was overwhelming.

But I wanted to see Trent, and my graduation was the only excuse left.

I slipped my phone into my purse and stepped away from the mirror. No matter what happened tonight, I’d at least get a nice meal.

My nerves jangled. I marched to the kitchen, rifling through the cabinet over the fridge where Derek and I stashed the alcohol we only drank when we were already wasted. Pulling down a dusty bottle of tequila, I took a swig, pacing the kitchen.

TRENT

Pulling up in five.

I replaced the bottle and smoothed out my dress. My cap and gown sat on the couch, and I scooped it up on the way out the door.

I threw my shoulders back as I exited the elevator, channeling a version of me that was happy, healthy, and thriving. Not the reality: sad, frumpy, and failing.

My stride faltered when I caught sight of Trent waiting for me in the lobby. He wore a blue suit and tie, a ridiculously gigantic bouquet in his hand. His jaw dropped as his eyes roved down my body, pausing at my chest and then again down my legs, infusing me with a confidence I didn’t have in front of the mirror.

“Hey.” I knocked Trent out of his temporary stupor. “Are those for me?”

He nodded, holding out the bouquet.

I took the green tissue paper wrapped roses. “These are really nice. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You deserve it.” He reached out, his fingers grazing my forearm and sending shivers down my spine. As he leaned closer, his subtle smell of salt and leather overcame the flowers and he brushed his lips across my cheek. “Ready to graduate?”

I nodded, my throat tight, and followed Trent to his car.

No, not his car. Or at least one I hadn’t seen before.

“Is this yours?” I asked as he paused at the passenger door of a red El Camino.

“Yeah.” His eyes sparkled at the admission. “It’s new. Well, not new, obviously, but new to me.”

“What made you buy an El Camino?”

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