Page 16 of The Revenge You Seek
I roll my eyes at his undying love for the game and pack everything up. If there's one thing I intend to do during my time here, it's to stay as far away from football, hell any athletes, aside from those who are already my friends—or quickly turning into my friends. Nothing good comes from football players.
"You heading in?" Ella asks me when I meet her out in the living area also with her bag over her shoulder ready to get to class.
"Yep. Sociology, you?"
"Marketing. I'm in the next building to you so I'll walk you."
"Let's do it."
She links her arm through mine and together we leave the others behind.
"Just so you know, I'm not some sex-starved whore," she says a little too seriously as we make our way across the quad.
"I didn't think that," I say lightly. "I know they were just ribbing you."
"I'll admit, I've had my fair share of less than memorable relationships and one-night stands. They seem to forget that they're the same. Well, apart from Micah, he's quieter than the rest of us.”
"He's got the nerd look down."
"Yeah, girls at MKU generally pine after the athletes."
"You say that like it's different at any other college. Columbia was exactly the same."
"I blame books."
I snort a laugh. "How so?"
"You know, all those hot romances make the guys out to be players and whatever but then there's that one who takes one look at you and forgets everyone else and you get to run off with him while he earns a shit ton in the NFL or NBA or whatever." She sighs dreamily.
"That what you want?"
"No, not really." She laughs. "I want a career. But we can all dream, right?"
"Sure can." I think back to my own obsession with Luca over the years and I totally understand the fascination.
Ella opens the door for me when we get to the building I apparently need and I step through.
"I think your cell is buzzing," she says, quickly catching up with me.
"Oh."
Swinging my purse around, I dig through it as we head up to the second floor.
"Is that Mary Poppins’ purse or something?" she mutters when she looks over to find me still searching.
"Ah-ha," I exclaim as I pull it out.
"Jesus, someone wants you," she mutters, staring down at the screen as I do.
Seventeen missed calls from Zayn.
My heart drops into my feet as I think about what that many missed calls could mean.
Mom, Dad, Harley… fuck.
My hand is trembling as I attempt to call him back. I can barely breathe through my panic as I wait for the call to connect.
If something has happened to them, I'm not sure I'm going to cope. Not after…
