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“You totally are.” Grace gives me a sad smile as she looks toward the bar. “He’s a mess.”
She isn’t wrong about that. Prescott is a mess.
“Can you blame him? They just lost the playoffs. He lost his last chance to win that trophy.”
I knew better than anybody how much winning that thing meant to him. How much he wanted it. How much heriskedfor it.
“Doesn’t make him less of an asshole for acting the way he did and breaking up with you. Especially when he’s in love with you.”
I look down at the glass in my hand. “Sometimes loving someone isn’t enough.”
And if that wasn’t the saddest part of it all, I don’t know what was. If love was the only factor, things would be so much easier, but nothing is that simple. Not really.
“When are you traveling back home?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Tomorrow morning. All my things are in my car, so I’ll just stay at Mason’s, and we can leave as soon as we wake up. That is if you don’t want us to stay.”
Ever since the summer before college, I’ve spent all my holidays with Grace in New York. The idea of going home to an empty house was hard on both Nixon and me, so we haven’t been back. Until this year.
“No,” I shake my head. “You should go home. I’m sure your brother misses you.”
“He does,” Grace lets out a sigh. “How about we try and plan something for New Year’s? Maybe we could all come to your place to celebrate together.”
“Maybe,” I say reluctantly. “I’m not sure I’ll be up for it since my next chemo session is starting this week.”
What’s there to celebrate anyway? The fact that I’m slowly dying? That my boyfriend broke up with me because he can’t deal with my illness, and it reminds him of his dead brother? Yeah, I think I’ll pass.
“We can lay on the couch and watch stupid movies. It’ll be just like a middle school slumber party.”
“That doesn’t sound half bad.” I finish my drink and look at Grace’s empty glass. “A refill, and then we’ll go?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I slide off the stool. “I’ll go and grab it.”
“I see what you’re doing!” Grace yells after me, but I choose to ignore her and make my way through the tables.
The place is quiet tonight, probably due to the fact that most people have left campus by now for the holidays.
The moment I get to the bar, the guy from earlier turns to me, that flirtatious smile back on his face.
“Need another round?” he grins at me, a dimple popping in his left cheek.
“Please,” I give him a polite smile. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m also not interested in anything more than getting my drinks. Not that the guy notices, or he chooses to ignore it.
“Coke and 7-up, right? You sure you don’t want anything stronger?”
“This is fine. Thanks.”
“Sure thing.” He opens the bottles and places them on the bar in front of me. “You not going home for the holidays?”
“Soon, I have some things to take care of,” I say non-committedly as I pull out some money from my bag and place it on the counter. “Tha—”
“What things?”
Gosh, is he serious right now?
But before I can say anything, I hear a low growl come from behind me. “Will you stop flirting with her already? Can’t you see she’s not interested?”
