WEST
The weekend turnsinto a marathon of brain-crushing studying.
Between running endless drills on the field and immersing myself in the world of Victorian prose, I hardly see Jade. Even when we’re together, we’re drowning in books on her couch instead of drowning in each other.
By the time Thursday comes around, fatigue has claimed my body and mind both. Tomorrow looms like a dark cloud, the dreaded day of my Lit exam, but at least this will all be over then. I’m done living and breathing nothing but English literature and the damp scent of the field.
The grind is brutal, and whether it’ll pay off is anyone’s guess.
Jade’s engrossed in her own notes as I stretch my legs out and cross my ankles beside her. The weight of my textbook drops onto the coffee table like lead, an echo of my own exhaustion. “Hey, Jade?” I call out, letting my head fall back against the couch.
She makes a quiet sound, her eyes never leaving her notebook. “Yeah?”
A dry chuckle crawls up my throat as I close my eyes. “Do you think you’ll still be into me when I fail this class, lose my scholarship, and get kicked out of Dayton?”
Without missing a beat, she tosses back, “You’d still have a slim chance of getting drafted. So yeah, I think I would.”
“Wow.”
Her notebook snaps shut, and her warm hands cup my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. Her touch grounds me, an anchor in my sea of worries. “Theo, you’re not gonna fail.”
I’m drawn in by the conviction in her voice, the way her fingers gently trace the edges of my jaw. “What makes you so confident?”
“Well, first of all, because I believe in you.” The hint of a smile dances in her eyes, her hands slipping from my face to my lap. “And second, because you’re gonna be wearing my sweatshirt tomorrow.”
My gut clenches. “Sorry?”
She wrinkles her nose in response, a touch defensive. “I know you think it’s goofy. But you should really give it a shot.”
A sensation I can only describe as pure, unadulterated warmth spreads in my chest at her words. The fact that she’s willing to share her cherished good-luck charm with me isn’t goofy at all. It’s ... really fucking special, actually.
As my surprise fades, my mind grasps at words, trying to express my appreciation. “Jade—”
“Please, for me?” She pushes out her bottom lip. “At the very least, you’ll be comfortable for your test. Plus, it’ll probably smell like me.”
My heart thuds against my chest. “You’d trust me with your magical sweatshirt?”
“Again, not magic ...science. But yes, I trust you.”
A million reservations flood my mind. “What if I accidentally stain it, or lose it, or ...something? I feel like it’s just too fucking precious for me.”
Her eye roll is accompanied by a playful scoff. “Oh, my God, there you go again with the dramatics. You can take care of a damn sweatshirt, Theo.”
“Okay, yeah. You’re right.” I suppress a smile, the corners of my mouth twitching. “I want to wear it.”
Her eyes brighten. “You do?”
“Of course. I’ve seen what that thing can do for others.”
A pleased sigh slips from her as her grip on my knee tightens in satisfaction. “I knew you’d come to the dark side sooner or later.”
“You’ve definitely turned me.” I brush my thumb against her soft shoulder, tracing the edge of her collarbone.
An excited twinkle lights up her eyes as she pulls back. “Ah, you should really put it on now. Then I can take a picture and send it to Ace.”
“Yeah, no. That’s where I draw the line.”
She bats her lashes at me, tugging at my resolve with a pretty pout. “Please, for me?”