Page 120 of Taking Sides

“She hasn’t blocked you yet.” He tips his beer toward my phone then grins ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah. That’s great. Thank you. I feel much better.” I take a long drink, wishing the cold liquid was enough to ease the all-consuming ache in my chest since Sunday. It’s been two days. The only response I’ve received from her was yesterday morning. She wished me luck on our games and said that she had a busy week at school and that we’d talk when I got back to Moonshot.

I don’t have a good feeling about how we left things or her reluctance to talk over text.

“It’ll be fine,” D-Low says. He sits next to me, casual and chill.

“Fine?” I huff.

He shrugs absently.

“You don’t get it. I want to marry this girl, and I may have just ruined everything.”

Silence stretches out between us. The plane is quiet tonight. The game didn’t go our way, and everyone is ruminating on how to turn that around tomorrow.

“Did you say marry?” D-Low asks. “As in . . . marriage?”

I nod, swallowing down the burn of shame for how things went down between me and Victor. I became the bully I’ve always accused him of being. And in doing that, I fucked everything up with Whitney.

D-Low still hasn’t said anything. I’m usually the one who’s speechless.

“I’m sure you think I’m being rash or jumping into things. I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I can’t picture ever wanting to be with someone as much as I want her,” I tell him.

“Nah, I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

I stare back at him. My expression is tinged with skepticism.

“I wasn’t. I was thinking you’re lucky.”

I let out a small laugh. The last thing I’ve felt this week is lucky.

“You found your person. Some people never do. Now you just have to win her back.” He elbows me lightly and aims a grin at me.

“You say that like it’s going to be easy.”

“Easy?” He shakes his head. “Worth it?”

I nod. She’s worth it all. Whatever it takes.

He sets his beer down and rubs his hands together. “All right. Now, very important question.”

I raise my brows.

“What would Johnny do?”

“Johnny?” I ask, then it hits me. “Dirty Dancing? Really?”

“I don’t pretend to understand her fascination with it, but there has to be something there we can work with.”

A genuine chuckle slips from my lips and eases the tightness in my chest ever so slightly.

“Do you have a better idea?” D-Low asks.

“No. Sadly.”

“All right then. Let’s do this.”

“Thank you.”