Page 68 of The Game Plan

“Why do you think he pulls your pigtails?”

My eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

I think I’ve talked to O’Rourke twice in the two and a half years I’ve been on campus. We’ve never had any classes together. We don’t have any friends in common. He’s a jerk to everyone. He doesn’t pull my pigtails—he deliberately targets me. He targets everyone, finding those little fissures of insecurities that turn into enormous caverns of doubt.

“He’s always trying to get your attention.”

“Well, he’s going about it all wrong. I’m not interested. I never have been.”

Even if I didn’t have Miles in my life, I would have absolutely no interest in O’Rourke. He’s a mean bully with no redeeming qualities. Sure, he’s good-looking, but that’s all the more reason to stay away from him. Pretty men who are used to having the world handed to them don’t react well in the face of rejection.

“If he would have just come up to me and asked me out, I would have turned him down,” I tell Josh. “It never would have worked out for him.”

Josh sighs. “Yeah. I don’t want to tell him that, though.”

“So, what, you’re his minion? Doing his dirty work for him?”

He laughs. “Nah, man, I’m just here at this party and chilling, making conversation.”

“Good luck with that.”

I duck beneath his arm and escape into the party. Lex is making doe eyes at her swimmer, who is pretending she doesn’t exist. Ouch. Aleesha is pouting—she wanted to go to the Gamma party. Tamar is talking to a well-built guy I recognize as being on the men’s gymnastics team.

As much as I thrive being around people, tonight I just want to be curled up in my bed. Preferably with Miles. My hips are tight and my back aches, a telltale sign I’m going to get my period in a few days. I just have to get through tomorrow night’s frat party, and then I can relax all day on Sunday. Hopefully with Miles to join me. I hear orgasms can help alleviate menstrual cramps. I look forward to experimenting with that.

Lex draws me into her arms. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m good.”

“You miss your boo.” She’s a little tipsy, listing to one side. “Don’t worry. You’ll see him again soon. It’s good for you to have a night out. A night with the girls.”

I force a smile. “Yeah, totally.”

I would have been happy staying in and watching a few more 90’s movies. We didn’t have to go out. We could have chilled on the couch together.

Like the guys do. Amir, Barrett, Greg, Tucker, and Wes are happy enough staying in every night. They don’t need to go out and get shit-faced to have a good time. They’re secure enough in who they are that they don’t feel the need to pretend to be someone else.

Tonight I’m definitely pretending. In my mind, I’m this confident, secure woman who doesn’t need a man by her side. In reality, I miss Miles. It’s only been a week, but we’ve been doing this dance around one another for considerably longer, and at the end of the day, he makes me happy. With his support I feel like I can do anything, whether that’s survive through an intense softball practice or pass a statistics test. He believes I can do it, so I feel like I can, too.

Maybe that’s not the healthiest behavior. I don’t want to be some fragile, delicate little flower that can’t do anything without her man. That’s not me. I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own, of going to parties and making small talk and studying for crazy hard tests that might kill me.

Josh is watching me from across the party. I don’t see O’Rourke here anywhere. Maybe he didn’t show up. Maybe he’s biding his time until I’m alone and—

No, O’Rourke is not some serial killer. He’s not an incel. He’s just some pretty boy who’s had the world handed to him and doesn’t know what boundaries are. He’s not evil; he’s just an asshole.

Chapter twenty-six

Miles

Layingonmyuncomfortablehotel bed, I flick through social media and try not to pout. Sam is at a party. She sent me a few selfies and there are plenty of pictures of her at some party, talking with Josh fucking Sinclair, O’Rourke’s best friend.

As much as I hate being around drunk people, I want to be where she is. I want to go to the stupid frat parties with her. I want to be with her, period, even if that means putting up with idiots who don’t know when to shut up.

If she wants me to meet her stupid friends who treat her like crap, I’ll gladly show up and keep my mouth shut. I can’t fight her battles for her. She says they’re decent people; I have to give them the benefit of the doubt.

But if they hurt her again...

Greg is snoring. He fell asleep with no issues, the bastard. He’s my best friend. I hate him so much.

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