Page 73 of The Game Plan

There’s a guy in a tight Gamma shirt making his way over to us. He touches Sam’s shoulder lightly.

“Hey, girl.”

She beams and lets go of my hand to wrap him in a hug. “Jake! Hey!”

He’s about a head shorter than me, maybe a hundred pounds lighter, with medium-short brown hair and dark eyes. He works out.

“Miles, this is my friend Jake,” she says, reaching blindly for my hand. I find hers, and she squeezes. “Jake, this is Miles. My—my boyfriend.”

It’s the first time she’s said the word. My heart thumps loudly in my chest.

“Nice to meet you, man,” he says, clapping my hand in his. “I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

“Thanks.” I don’t mention that she hasn’t mentioned him.

“How’s Stacey?” Sam asks.

He makes a face. “We broke up.”

Her easy smile falls. “Again?”

“For good this time.” He sighs. “Then again, I said that last time, so who knows.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” she says, touching his shoulder.

“Thanks, girl.” His eyes flick between us in silent question. “So this is new.”

She beams up at me, and in an instant all of my anxiety bleeds away. She likes me. She wants to be with me. She has friends who are guys, yes, but they’re just friends. It’s good that she has positive male friendships. She isn’t going to leave me for this chump. She isn’t trying to hook up with Josh Sinclair. She’s just living her best life.

“Yeah, it’s new,” she admits, moving closer to me. Automatically, I drop a kiss to the top of her head, and his eyes soften a bit at the easy display of affection.

“You guys look good together,” he says, tapping his plastic cup against hers. “I’m happy for you, babe.”

She laughs. “I’m happy for us, too.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He excuses himself, pushing his way through the party. I track him into the next room before I lose him in the throng of people.

“You good?” Sam is gazing up at me, her heart in her eyes.

I touch my lips to hers in a light, chaste kiss. “Never better.”

Chapter twenty-eight

Sam

Mybackiskillingme. I’m about ready to saw out my spine with a rusty plastic spork. It’s not just my vertebrae. My hips are aching, and my stomach feels tight and bloated at the same time. I’m not due to get my period for another week, I’m right in the sweet spot in my cycle, so I know it’s not that. Yesterday’s workout wasn’t particularly strenuous, and this morning we did a team run around campus, so I’m not overextended.

Still, life doesn’t stop for back pain, so I try my best to go about my regular day. Practice. Study group for political science. Work on my Japanese paper. Dinner with my sorority sisters.

Kiersten pulls me aside shortly after I walk into the house. “Girl, you don’t look so good.”

“Thanks. I didn’t put on makeup today.”

There are bags under my eyes, and my skin is clammy. I am about five shades paler than usual, and not only because I’m not wearing any foundation or contour. I don’t feel well.

“No, I mean… you really don’t look good,” she says. Her eyes are worried. “Are you okay?”

“Just some back pain.”

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