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Sabrina
Nattie and I decided to switch it up this week and go to a hot yoga class at the crack of dawn Thursday morning instead of our regular Wednesday morning class. This is so not something we’re going to be doing again. I have no idea why anyone likes this. I can only imagine this is what the surface of the sun feels like. I’d rather my toxins stay firmly in place if sweating them out means going through this fresh hell again.
As we lie on our mats, trying to will our bodies to move, I manage to turn my head slightly before speaking. “I need water.”
Nattie opens her eyes. “Screw water. I need coffee, but it needs to be iced.”
Ten minutes later, we look like drowned rats in the campus coffee shop. It’s cold and raining outside, which actually felt pretty stinking refreshing, all things considered. When our waitress brings our orders, we thank her and dig in.
“So, how was Murphy after the memorial last night?” Nat asks before taking a bite of her bagel.
I swallow my coconut water and sigh. “I’m not entirely sure. He’s been a little closed-off since Monday. I think the stress of switching positions is getting to him, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. How was Brady?”
“He’s Brady. He feels like he needs to shoulder this for the whole team.” She shrugs. I guess she’s used to this.
Nat rips off another piece of bagel. “The election’s in less than two weeks, right? Is your mom still calling? She’s got to be losing her mind.”
“Nope. Now she’s resorting to making Penny do her bidding. Pen texted me yesterday, begging me to come to dinner this weekend. She said Mom is sorry and wants to talk.” I move the granola around in my Greek yogurt while I mix in the little cup of raspberries. “My mother has never been sorry for anything she’s ever done, not one single thing in her entire life. Penny would never have said that if she wasn’t being told to write it.”
“Brina, you may not want to hear this, but I think you should go.” Nattie wraps what’s left of her bagel in the wax paper and pushes it away. “Tell them you’re bringing Murphy with you if you want, but go. Give them a chance to fix this, or go and tell them what you’re willing to accept and what you aren’t. But either way, you need to go. This is the world you want to be in after graduation. This is politics, so be political. Make it work for you. I mean, seriously, think about it. If you cut yourself off from your parents, I’m pretty sure your political aspirations are over before they’ve really even started.”
Damnit. When did Nattie get so intuitive? “I know that you’re right, but I really don’t want to deal with this.” I push away my yogurt.
“But you know you have to.”
“I do know I have to. I just don’t want to.” I sound like a petulant child. “I guess we could go Sunday. The stress surrounding this weekend’s game will be over. I can’t imagine that my dad will have a ton of free time in his schedule anyway, so dinner won’t be able to last all night.” I mull it over in my mind. “I guess it could work.”
“I think you should, Brina. Don’t let it get worse. My mom and I were never crazy close. Not even before I moved across the country. But now, it’s worse. Now, when we try to talk, it’s strained and forced. Don’t let that happen. I mean, she’s a fucking psycho, but she’s still the only mom you’re gonna get.”
“You sure you’re not Catholic, Nat? You can guilt trip with the best of them. The nuns have nothing on you.”
She lifts her bottle of water to toast. “Amen, sister.”
I clink my bottle to hers. “Amen.”
* * *
Murphy and I are studying in his room later that night. We’ve fallen into a comfortable routine. I haven’t slept in my own bed once this week. It’s basically turned into my drop spot for my books and clothes. I run in and switch them out when I need to. I’ve started to live out of my overnight bag, which is working for now. I need to get some laundry done soon though.
Murphy’s wearing his Clark Kent glasses and sitting at his desk while I sit crossed-legged on the bed, my MacBook on my lap, and Rocky snuggled up next to me. I’ve been stealing glances at his sexy profile all night, and it’s definitely messing with my concentration. I’ve read the same paragraph three times now, and I couldn’t explain what it said if someone offered me a million dollars to do it.
When he closes his book and stands from the desk, I know I’m done for the night. Both muscular arms reach above his head as he stretches out, and I force myself not to drool. I wonder if my heart will ever stop skipping a beat in his presence.
Murphy moves toward me. “I’m done. I can’t read this shit anymore.” He crosses the room and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Do you have much more?”
I set the laptop down next to me and shift closer to him. “Nope.”
His strong hands grip my waist, and I’m moved to straddle his lap. “You coming to my game this weekend, Princess?”
“I sure am. I got my jersey with your name on it from the campus store. I even got it big, so I could fit my hoodie under it. Do you know how cold it’s supposed to get this weekend?”
He shakes his head no.
“There’s a freaking chance of snow. Winter is coming really early.”
“Okay, Jon Snow. I’ll keep you warm.” He leans his forehead to mine, then kisses me. It’s slow and sexy and absolutely intoxicating.
I place both hands on his chest and push back slightly. “Aiden, wait. My sister sent me a message. They want me to come to dinner Sunday night.”
