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Ihoist my duffel bag onto my shoulder as I exit through the locker room door to the parking lot. I nearly miss the blonde sitting on the block wall outside the stadium until I hear a delicate voice calling my name.
“Hey, Caleb.”
I spin around to find Briar grinning at me. She waves a hand, and I freeze in my tracks to wave back.
“Hey,” I reply dumbly.
Briefly, I consider leaving it at that, continuing to my car, and driving home. But she said hi to me first. So, I feel compelled to stop and talk to her for a moment. Even if I know it’s only friendly conversation and nothing else.
“If you’re waiting for Sean, he wasn’t even in the shower yet when I left,” I say, nodding toward the locker room.
She shrugs. “He always takes forever, but we had plans to grab dinner, so I’ll wait.”
“You shouldn’t have to wait alone,” I reply as I drop my bag on the concrete.
“You don’t have to do that,” she says, but her argument feels weak and there’s a subtle warmth on her face as if she actually wants me to stick around.
“I want to,” I add. When our eyes meet, I wonder if this is normal. Do other guys look at her and feel this intense pull? Are we truly just friends or is there an inkling of hope that she likes me half as much as I like her?
When she bites her bottom lip and gazes at her feet, I feel a thread of hope.
“You’re doing great in art history,” she says to make conversation.
“Only because you’re helping me.” I give her a nudge on the shoulder.
“I’m not doing that much,” she says with an eye roll.
“Yes, you are. You have a gift for this stuff. You seem to really like it.”
“I do.” She smiles to herself.
“Is that what you want to do with your life after you graduate? Work at a museum or something?” I ask, taking a seat on the low wall next to her.
She stares listlessly at the dimly lit parking lot in front of us. “I don’t know…”
My brow furrows as I turn toward her. “So, what do you want to do?”
With a shrug, she says, “I’m sure Sean and I will get married and have some kids, and I think I’d be happy. I really want a family.”
The words Sean and married in one sentence make my skin crawl. She can’t seriously be considering spending forever with that condescending asshole? I wish I could just grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.
And I hate that she thinks she has to give up her passion for a family. “So what?”
“So what?” she replies with a laugh.
“Yeah, so what? Get married. Have some kids. You can still do all of that and work in a museum or paint or teach idiots like me why they should appreciate Van Gogh.”
Her head falls back as she lets out a laugh. “I know that.”
“Do you? Because it sounds like you’re getting an art history degree to throw it away.”
She knocks my shoulder with her own. “I’m not throwing it away. You’re being such a jerk tonight.”
She slings the insult with a smile on her face.
“I am not,” I say, bumping my shoulder against hers.
When our eyes meet, hers are still crinkled with her grin, and I get lost in them for a moment. Then we’re staring at each other for too long. And if she weren’t someone's girlfriend, I’d lean in, take her lips, and make her mine.
