Page 20 of Game Changer
Who knew two people could be so different yet go through such similar struggles? Maya craves travel, whereas I would prefer to stay in Arizona, where I’m most comfortable. This is another reason why I didn’t want to play professional football. Traveling every weekend to a new state sounds like getting your teeth pulled to me and isn’t something I want.
She erupts into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, and it’s so fucking cute that I find myself laughing too. “Oh, god. We’re high, aren’t we? That’s why we’re talking about our deepest, darkest secrets.”
No. Well, maybe she is, but I’m confiding in her because she’s always felt like a safe place for me to do so. It’s nothing to do with the weed and everything to do with my feelings for her.
“I thinkyou’rehigh.”
She bites her cheek to stop laughing, but it’s no use. She’s doubled over again, and it takes a minute or so to come up for air. “Maybe this is the year we find ourselves,” she pants.
She doesn’t realize how much effort I’m making to do just that. Since setting foot on campus, my mission has been to find myself and figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life.
“And maybe we can do ittogetherif you ever answer me about being friends again,” she adds.
“We’re hanging out now, aren’t we?”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on. Be serious.”
“Says the person who can’t stop laughing.” When she remains straight-faced, I grip the steering wheel and rest my head back on the headrest. “I want to be friends again, Maya, but I don’t want to be tentative friends. I want things to go back to the way they used to be, and I don’t want you to tiptoe around my feelings or worry about my ego or anything. I’m a big boy who can handle rejection, and while it still hurts, I’ll get through it. I’d rather have you in my life as my friend than not have you at all, but I want you as mytruefriend. How we were before we slept together.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. “I don’t want to lead you on, Ethan.”
“Flirtatious comments, sexual innuendos, and a dirty mouth are who you are, Maya. I don’t think you’re leading me on. It’d be weird if youweren’tlike that. As I said before, I’ll be fine. I want the same as you. To be friends.”
Her eyes linger on mine for a beat too long. “Right. Friends.”
That term doesn’t feel right to label the connection we have, but it’s the one she wants to use, so I’ll have to accept it. Maybe she’s right about finding ourselves together, and while it’ll be helpful to have someone struggling with the same thing, it’s also going to be difficult to remain emotionally detached and treat her as nothing more than a friend.
And when Maya reaches into her bra to pull out a ChapStick, exposing half her chest to me, I internally curse and shift my eyes to the ceiling of the car.
This is going to besohard.
Fuck. I must have said that out loud because Maya giggles for the umpteenth time and shouts, “That’s what he said!”
But just like that, things seem to return to normal.
Ten
Maya
College has never been something I dreamed about.
Even in high school, I found the routine tedious. Homework, studying,reading. None of it was for me. I hated learning about history and despised mathematical equations. It never occurred to me that it was because I was a creative person who wasn’t interested in becoming a lawyer, or a doctor, or any career that required an immense amount of schooling. And then I heard about the cosmetology program.
For as long as I can remember, doing hair and makeup for others was the only potential career I could see for myself. However, since it wasn’t the ideal job my parents envisioned for me, I concocted this plan that I’m not even sure would work. They want me to attend school to get a business degree and become an accountant or an investor, but in the back of my mind, I plan on using my business degree to open my own salon.
It’s not something I’ve ever mentioned to anyone because saying it aloud means I’ll be following through with it, and there are a lot of things I’d need to accomplish before I can make it happen. I’d have to build up a clientele first, then obtain a loan and a piece of real estate. Not to mention convincing my parents that this could work once I graduate. I’d be going against their wishes for me, but if I build up a clientele and have the data to prove this could work, then . . .
The professor draws me from my thoughts, reminding us about an online assignment due in a few days. I file out behind everyone else, and when I enter the crowded hallway a large, muscular arm slings over my shoulder.
Xavier Santos, basketball team captain, tugs at my ponytail. “Hi, Garcia. Fancy seeing you here. Econ?” He jerks his head toward the classroom, his sculptured jawline and pristine white teeth momentarily distracting me. The guy is attractive, I’ll admit it, but he gives the termplayeran entirely new meaning, which says a lot since Cameron Holden is on my list of friends.
I met Xavier on my first day here. He was with some of his frat brothers scouting the new girls moving into the dorms, and the second he laid eyes on me, he made it his mission to get into my pants. His moves didn’t work, but it’s not because they weren’t convincing. If this was a few years ago and my feelings weren’t tangled up in someone else, I’d totally fall for the six two heartthrob.
“Unfortunately,” I admit. The class seemed to last an eternity, but it’s necessary for a long-term goal. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. “Did you just get out of class too?”
“Accounting. It was boring as hell, but my mood ismuchbetter now that I ran into you.” He wiggles his brows, and his thumb rubs a tiny circle on my shoulder before I slip out of his grasp.
“Watch your hands,Santos. I already told you I’m taken.”
