Page 190 of Call the Shots
I knew better.
I’d been a spectator to the neglect, so involved in myself that I never put the pieces together. Now that I was away from his family, I couldn’t believe I never realized what was going on. The truth was, Bear needed someone who wasn’t linked to his family. He needed a fresh start—that wasn’t me.
I left poli-sci to see him leaning against the wall, waiting for me. Before I said anything, he led me outside, his fingers intertwining with mine, something that’d become as easy as breathing.
Oh, god.
I pulled my hand away, sliding off my bag to pretend like I needed something in my backpack. “Can I see your phone? I want to update your dating profile questions.”
Bear glanced down. “Huh?”
“I picked out new pictures, we’re giving you an upgrade.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
With a shrug, I fought to keep my voice light. “What are friends for?”
He grabbed the door to the physics building. “Friends?”
“Friends,” I repeated, avoiding his gaze.
We took our seats in astronomy and Bear was silent for a moment. “Your plants are in my bedroom. I can count the freckles on your body from memory. I know what tampons to pick up from the store—not just day use, the overnight kind too—the orange ones, size four, bulk size because you hate how much plastic they use for the small boxes?—”
My cheeks burned. “Bear?—”
“How long are you going to pretend like we’re just friends?”
Dr. Schulman arrived and I hurried to take out a sheet of paper. The truth was, finding someone else would be an improvement for Bear. When he realized he could sleep with another girl, that’d be his opportunity to regain that trust, without reminders of the past.
“For the first time in my academic career,” Dr. Schulman said, “I’ve been persuaded towards extra credit.”
What?
Before my Austin trip, I’d asked my professors if there was anything I could do to make up for the days I was gone. Dr. Schulman was the only one who waved away my request. He never gave extra credit. That didn’t bother me—it was only eighteen points.
“The assignment will be for eighteen points.”
My pencil stilled.
“Write a one-page report on a personal stargazing expedition. Discern the beauty of a backyard sighting or enjoy that you live in Space City. The museums have fascinating options.”
My eyes darted to Bear to find him already gazing at me. I looked away.
Did he…?
I ripped out a piece of paper and started to scribble down the question. I tried to write it again but capped it at four words before I ripped it to pieces, brushing them in my backpack, averting my eyes.
Finally, Bear started writing the notes for the day and I joined him, barely listening to Dr. Schulman’s lecture on constellations. It was about how ancient societies used constellations like Leo and Phoenix to find their way home, but I could barely concentrate.
Did Bear ask him to reconsider his extra credit policy?
My thoughts were interrupted when Bear slid a piece of paper across the desk, folded in half. I touched it with the end of my pencil, bringing it closer.
june come on
you already know the answer
What wasI supposed to do? The problem plagued me throughout the day, overwhelming me. We couldn’t go back to no sex, we couldn’t pretend like we were only friends, so…what? How could I do this when I knew eventually it’d hurt him?
