I stare at Jenni, floored. My heart is still pounding, my skin flushed with embarrassment, anger, and… something else I’m not quite sure of.
“Um… thanks,” I say, stunned.
I want to explain there wasn’t a sex tape. That it was just a rumor started because my ex went viral after cheating on me, but before I can even get the words out, Jenni waves me off.
“Whatever. It’s not that big a deal. Gabbi’s an asshole. I went to high school with her, and Ireallywish she’d picked literally any other college in the country. Any chance I can get to put her in her place, I take.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, still trying to process what just happened. Embarrassingly, I’m half-stuck on the fact that she called me her friend. That hasn’t happened in a long time.
Jenni grins, already over it. “What are you doing tonight? Chris and I were thinking of watching a movie in my dorm. You should come.”
“Tonight? Um…” I hesitate, my brain immediately going to Zach and his practice, but more than that, I don’t want to tick off the only person who’s been nice to me since I got here. “I’m a little busy.”
Why am I so disappointed that I can’t third wheel a dorm movie night?
The thought lands with uncomfortable clarity. I’m genuinely upset about missing the chance to be the awkward extra in a cramped dorm, probably perched on Jenni’s desk chair while they curl up together on the twin bed.
Awesome. Apparently, my social life has reached the point where even that sounds… nice.
“No problem,” Jenni says easily, and I can tell she genuinely means it. There's no passive-aggressive undertone, no slight tightening around her eyes that suggests I've just failed some kind of friendship test. “How about lunch? You could meet us at the dining hall after your next class?”
“Uh, sure, that sounds awesome,” I say with a smile, genuinely excited at the prospect of sitting across from someone other than Zach while eating.
“Perfect.” Then she pulls her phone out and offers it to me. “Do you want to put your number in? I’ll text you the details.”
My number? I’m hesitant at first since I don’t like to hand it out to anyone, but explaining why feels a little ridiculous when she clearly has no idea who I am.
“Um, okay.” I take her phone and quickly type my number in.
Jenni takes it back with a smile. “Great. Well, we look forward to seeing you in a little bit, don’t we, Chris?”
She elbows her boyfriend, who just lets out a little chuckle.
“Yeah. Definitely looking forward to it.”
After we part ways, I walk to my next class feeling something I haven’t felt in months: optimism.
It feels strange, almost weightless, like I’m walking with a version of myself I thought I’d lost somewhere between whispered rumors and people deciding who I was before they ever spoke to me.
Maybe, just maybe, my fate at this college hasn’t already been sealed. Maybe there are more people out there who don’t care about football and aren’t interested in chasing me away from Zach.
The thought is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
I scan the field as my teammates try to slip through our defense. Three seconds. That’s all I need. A break for three seconds, and then I can get the ball out.
One. I plant my feet.
Two. I position my body.
Three. I release.
The ball spirals through the air, and my eyes never leave the tight rotation as it cuts through the darkening sky. Reese has his arms out, his fingers spread, and he catches the ball without breaking stride.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Coach Summers bellows from the sidelines. “Now that’s a goddamn throw, Evans!”
I roll my shoulder, hiding a wince. An hour into practice, and my arm's starting to feel like overcooked spaghetti, but I'd rather die than show it. The NFL scouts expected at our next game don't give a shit about tired muscles, which means I can’t either.
“You good?” Reese jogs back, tossing me the ball as he takes me in.