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“It wouldn’t be the first time in history,” he points out. “There’s precedent.”
I nod. He’s not wrong. “Just one problem with that,” I say.
“What?”
“I hate you.”
He laughs as he peeks over my shoulder toward the field. Toward Alex and Ben. “From the sounds of it, I might be the closest thing you have to a friend right now.”
Shit. Guess he’s right.
“Just say you’ll think about it,” he says in my silence.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. “You should get out there. One of us should be,” I add.
Emerson nods. “You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He steps past me, then spins on his heel a few feet away. “So, what happened with you and Dana?” he asks, his smirk on full display.
I glower. He chuckles.
“Fine, fine.” He keeps walking. “I’ll mind my business.”
Eh. What the hell.
“Emerson,” I say. He glances at me from the door to the ramp. I raise a fist. “Delta Xi.”
He raises a fist, too. “Delta Xi,” he repeats before continuing out onto the field.
I return to my locker, eying my phone sitting on the top shelf. It’s been blowing up all day with messages.
Sorry for your loss.
I’m here for you.
He was my hero.
Other than the ones from Courtney, they’ve mostly gone ignored.
Except the ones from her.
I check for new ones. Staying in tonight, she said this morning. Good luck at the game. Nothing since then. Can’t really blame her, though. I haven’t exactly been chatty. Not since I woke her up with my tongue and ruined both of our lives.
Okay, that’s a little dramatic.
But it’s not entirely wrong.
I gather my things and close the locker before exiting the locker room the way I came.
“You okay, Conny?”
Trisha Wells lingers by the doors. The usual hard lines of her face are non-existent tonight, leaving nothing but a warm expression painted with sympathy. She’s not even waiting for a sound bite; her phone tucked away out of sight.
“They finally let you back in here, huh?” I ask, hanging my backpack onto my shoulder.
“It’s a special night,” she says. “For better or worse.”
