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I froze. Heat bloomed inside my cold skin. My gaze darted to his height, his black wool coat — expensive, well-cut, fitted over bulky shoulders and a broad chest. I looked up at his face, the fake laughter catching in my throat.
His light brown hair was still super short, catching the glitter of winter sun. It would be so soft under my hands — the only soft thing about him. His pale skin was the type you’d expect to flush in the cold, but his cheeks weren’t rosy.
Patrick.
We’d met once.
I’d fantasized about him countless times.
The slight smile on his face made it clear: he remembered me too.
Quickly, I looked away and sat down on a nearby bench.
“Christina, Ineeeedyou to come back to cheerleading,” Sydney was saying. “There’s been a huge hole on the squad since you left. You know we had to recruit Theresa Allen literally the day before Thanksgiving, and ugh, I donotfeel supported by her. You’re a muchbetter base. Can you just come back? I never thought you were the type to quit.”
Funny, my mom had said the same thing.
We’re not quitters, Christina. Your sister never quit anything in her life.I thought we passed those values on to you! You better replace cheerleading with another activity. Remember you take after the women on Dad’s side, all hips and butt and thighs. If you don’t work out, you’ll start spreading like dough. I’m just telling it like it is, because I know it matters to you…
“I didn’t have time,” I lied to Sydney. “I couldn’t take waking up at five-thirty to do endless drills. That’s not what college is about! It’s for being irresponsible and sleeping it off. Come ON. We’re twenty years old. Let’s make the most of it. We’ll be getting up early the rest of our lives.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Patrick. He was still leaning against the lamppost. Still watching me. His phone rested in his huge hand, ignored. The gold fraternity ring on his finger caught the light.
He raised an eyebrow, and his expression made me shiver. Like he knew how hard I’d tried this year to stop aiming for success, to stop caving to my family’s expectations. I’d managed to play, eat, and party my way through fall semester, letting my savings and time bleed away.
Yesterday, when I’d tried to withdraw from my checking account, the numbers on the screen stopped me cold: seven dollars and forty-one cents.
“Sure.” Sydney sounded unconvinced. “But balance is good. For you, at least. Maybe you can find a balance.”
Sydney was one to talk about balance. She was the girl I could hang out with at IHOP at two in the morning, laughing at nothing while we tied cherry stems into knots with our tongues. She was also the girl who fell down a flight of stairs into a parking lot, drunk off her ass, at the biggest bash of the year last spring. Her stitches were long gone, but people still told the story.
Sydney partied hard; I stayed a step behind to take care of her. That had been our dynamic until this year.
Beneath the surface, something wasn’t right between us. I’d started feeling it before Thanksgiving. But it would blow over. It had to.
“Balance is good,” I said brightly. “Listen, I have something crazy to tell you.”
“Ooh, more gossip? Don’t tell me, Kent’s ex-girlfriend found out, and—”
“No, Syd.” I glanced at the lamppost, caught the chill of two blue eyes, and looked away. I should pick up and move, but my body refused to budge. I lowered my voice. “I honestly can’t believe this happened, but I kind of…got behind on paying my bills. So did Amelia.” Sydney snorted when I mentioned my roommate from hell. “So…the electricity in my apartment got turned off yesterday. The gas, too. And you know what Amelia did? She texted that she was staying with her boyfriend and I could tell her when the utilities were back on. She left her cat behind, though.”
“Sucks. How’d you even get behind on the bills? Are you going to make her pay you back?”
Sydney never paid a bill in her life. She was used to being taken care of. In fact, she owed me money, because she was always borrowing. Sixty dollars? Eighty? I’d stopped keeping track. When I brought it up, she brushed me off, or got hurt.
My hair swung forward, ice flecking the dark strands, as I stared at my boots in the snow. I couldn’t bring myself to check if Patrick was still there.
“It’s not that simple.” I tried to sound breezy, but my voice faltered. “It’s insane, but…somehow…I blew through everything last semester. I don’t even know how it happened. I— I don’t really have any money right now. None. I spent last night under my covers, wearing pretty much every piece of clothing I own, fucking shivering. I mean, it getscoldin those off-campus apartments in January. They need to work on the insulation.”
I was laughing like it was a huge joke, but I pulled my coat close around me and tightened my scarf. The night had been awful.
“Mmmm.”
I tried to swallow my pride, but it stuck in my throat in a misshapen lump. I hated asking for things. “Can I crash on your couch? Just for tonight? I’m looking for a campus job, but it could be two weeks before I get a paycheck.”
“So what are you asking? To crash for tonight, or to crash for two weeks?”
Jesus, Sydney was supposed to be my best friend. I’d let her crash on my busted couch if she needed to. “I’ll figure something out.” My voice rose, and I fought for control. “But if I could sleep over at least for tonight…”
