Say You Swear

“Where you at, girl!”

Holding back a sigh, I let my pen fall from my fingers and use the moment’s interruption to stretch. I don’t bother answering Cam’s obnoxious ass, knowing she’ll pop her head in my room any second, which she does.

“Hey!” She face-plants onto my bed, quickly rolling onto her stomach to face me, her grin far too telling.

Unease wraps around my shoulders, but I’ve gotten decent at hiding it, so much so she doesn’t seem to notice anymore.

Cam wiggles her brows. “We’re going out.”

I force a chuckle, picking up my pen once more. “I can’t tonight. I have to study.”

She grabs my pillow, growling into it dramatically.

“Ari, come on. We’re three weeks into the semester, and you still haven’t come out with me. I get you want to stay on top of your classes, but, shit, we were supposed to be living it up together, and you keep ditching me, making me look like the hooch caboose.”

I raise a brow.

“You know?” She speaks with exasperation. “The ass at the end of the train. It’s me and three guys everywhere we go, that shit sucks! I need another vagina with me to even it out a bit.”

A small grin pulls at my lips, and I shake my head. “You’re an idiot.”

“You love me.”

“I’m not going.”

“Please.”

“Cameron, I can’t. I have a lot of homework.” Not exactly a lie, but she knows it’s more than that.

She’s quiet for a minute, sighing as she pushes herself up. She walks to my dresser, running her fingers along the photos lining the top of the cheap, carbon fiberwood, and picks up the one of the boys holding the two of us. Still in their uniforms and fresh off their big win in the championship game, we’re lying across their hands, our faces smiling into the camera.

I’ve almost stuffed that one in the drawer so many times, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“First regular season game’s this weekend, you know.”

“Yeah.” I swallow past the burn in my throat, avoiding her gaze. Of course, I know.

I wrote it on my wall calendar months ago, knowing it was coming with me, even circled it with blue and gold sharpies.

Cam blindly sets the photo down, gently reminding me of what I already know. “You’ll break Mason’s heart if you don’t go.”

The day I left the beach house, Cam left with me, and while I knew she suspected something had happened, I waited until the drive to campus a full week later to lay it all out for her. I told her everything, and like I knew she would, she got angry, and a little while later, she cried.

I didn’t want to keep it from her, but I also didn’t want my own inner issues driving a second wedge in our little group. It took a half gallon of mint chip ice cream and a six pack of beer to get her to drop the Chase aimed pitchfork and understand the situation for what it was: a night of overflowing emotion that drove us past the point of no return.

No one was at fault, and no one did anything wrong. It simply was what it was, and then it was over.

We got to Avix two weeks before school began, and during that time, she was attached to my hip in all her best friend glory. We slowly unpacked and decorated what would be our home for the next year, went on walks and got to know the area.

We went to the movies and hung out with some girls from the first floor of our dorm. Had lunch dates and coffee breaks. She kept me busy with any and everything she could think of, and for the most part, it worked, but as soon as I was alone in my room again, the ache would creep back in. She knew that which is why we didn’t spend a single day indoors from move in day to the night before classes officially began.

That was also the first night the boys were allowed even a minute of free time.

They asked us to come over, see their place and meet their friends.

Cam was so excited, but I was the exact opposite. Dread fell over me and I felt trapped.

My best friend tried to backtrack, but I didn’t allow it. I encouraged her to go. After all, it had been seventeen days since we hung out with them… since that last day at the beach.

Mase would call at night and Brady would push his way into the frame, but Chase never did more than linger in the background, and for that I was grateful.

Cam went to see them that night and though I didn’t ask her to, I know she lied to my brother when she showed up without me. She had to have or he would have been on my doorstep within the hour.

But that was the middle of the month, and now August is almost over.

Her patience is running thin and it’s understandable. I came here to live it up with my best friend, and she was left to do it all without me, while trying to pull me out of my cyclical state of drowning in my sorrows.

It’s not that I don’t want to go, because I do, and I’ve talked myself up to it more times that I can count, but I can never pull the trigger. It’s frustrating, but I physically can’t stomach the thought of seeing him, and it would be naive to assume he wouldn’t be nearby. He definitely would be, probably with a gang of girls flocked around him, as they always have been.

My heart can’t take it.

I can’t take it. Not yet.

Cam said I needed to get out, to get my mind off things, but how can I do that when he’s always around?

It was torturous enough forcing myself to keep our tradition of studying on the bleachers while they practiced, but I had to show some sort of normalcy or my brother would flip out and demand answers. He has no idea how to approach things on a normal level; he goes all in in an instant and that’s the last thing I need, so a couple days a week, Cam and I park our asses in the stadium seats to do homework while the boys work in the heat below us. It’s something that started as a way for us to stay ‘safe’ under their watchful eyes, and it turned into something they looked forward to. Every good run or new play, they’d look up with grins, knowing they’d get one in return from one of us.

We never did get much homework done there.

A small smile graces my lips, but a twist low in my stomach steals it away, and I grow angry with myself because of it.

I’m so sick of being sad.

The good thing about carrying the tradition on here, if there is one, is the boys have to go into the locker rooms afterward to. In high school, they brought their bags home at the end of the day, so it was from the field to the car. Here though, I can slip out before I’m forced to face them, cutting out the possibility of Chase’s awkward glances that would lead me to do something embarrassing.

Other than those days at fifty yards away, I’ve seen Chase once since we arrived. It was during our mandated Sunday dinners together—a pre-condition from our parents when they agreed to house us in the higher-end, studio-style dorms.

They started the first week of school, and while I sucked up the pain his distant eyes caused, I couldn’t make it past the first ten minutes, so I lied. I said I had a stomachache and locked myself in my room the rest of the night. I thought Brady would bust my door down because, not a minute after they all walked in, he began giving me what we like to call The Brady Eye, the one that says I know something, but I won’t call you on it just yet. Bless his heart.

The week that followed I said my study group wouldn’t budge on the time and I couldn’t miss it. I wasn’t even in a study group, but I’ve been searching for one ever since.

The only reason I didn’t get shit for it is likely because I’ve been smart about my absence, finding times I know the others are in class to meet with my brother for lunch or homework sessions then. Same with Brady. Some days I’ll meet one at the coffee shop, or we’ll meet each other outside of our classrooms and chat during the small breaks before the next one.

But never more than one at a time, because that would lead to them realizing, one corner of their tringle is missing. I can’t have that. Not yet.

It’s hard when you realize you simply aren’t enough for someone and it’s even harder when everyone you’re connected to is connected to that person as well.

While it’s not every day anymore, I still sometimes quietly cry myself to sleep at night. I know it’s irrational, some might say dramatic, to cry over someone who was never really yours to begin with, but as cliché as it sounds, my heart aches like he was.

Or maybe it’s the fact that reality forced my hand that night as those waves rolled up over my feet, stealing more than just the sand from under me. Everything I thought I might one day have washed out to sea.

My second home took my maybe, my hope, and my virginity.

When I thought of the future, the possibility of me and my brother’s best friend was always present. I spent so many years with the same images in my head that I don’t even know how to imagine anything else. It’s as painful as it is annoying.

But miss our boys’ first game as college athletes?

I could never.

I meet Cameron’s gaze. “I’ll be there.”

She nods, inspecting her cuticles, her voice barely a whisper. “I hear you some nights, you know.” Her eyes lift to mine. “You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

I pull in a long, steady breath. “I’m okay, Cam. I swear.”

“I can’t help you let go, if you don’t let me try.”

“I know.” I look away. “But his is on me, and I have to work through it on my own. It’s the only way.”

“Promise you’ll try harder?” she whispers.

My lips curve and I lift my hand, my best friend coming in for a quick hug.

“I will.”

“K.” She squeezes me before pulling away and heading for my door. “I’m going to get ready. I leave in twenty if you change your mind.”

I nod, appreciating Cameron even more. She knows my staying in has nothing to do with homework, and she’s allowing it because she knows it’s what I need.

I meant what I said about trying harder. I’m so over myself, and ready to get rid of this hollowness consuming me, but despite our conversation, I still pass on her every invitation the days that follow, and when game night finally rolls around that next weekend, my nerves are going haywire.

I’m rigid all over, the ache in my shoulders bone deep from drawing them in so tight without realizing it. I’m just ready to get there, and sadly, for it to be over.

“Hurry up, hooker!” I shout, pacing the entryway to our dorm room.

I take a deep breath, wringing my hands in the air, quickly dropping them to my sides when Cam’s door is thrown open.

“Chill, ho-bag, I’m ready.”

She walks down the hall, and I can’t help but smile.

“Aww, you look so cute!”

She has Chase and Brady’s numbers written on her cheeks in eyeliner, and Mason’s painted on her white T-shirt, in big bold, blue glitter paint. She’s got her famous Cam daisy dukes on and strappy gold gladiator sandals. Her blonde hair is up with big curls in it. She’s adorable.

“Wait, wait!” She spins and the number four is written along the back. She peeks at me over her shoulder. “Had to rep Trey, too.”

We laugh and she turns to the long mirror hanging on the back of the door, rolling her eyes when I tug it open.

“Good thinking. Now let’s go.” I nudge her into the hall, and we make our way to the elevator.

Inside, Cam looks me over. “You could have worn Mason’s practice jersey or something.”

I scowl at her reflection in the standard silver doors. “I’m wearing an Avix football shirt.”

“Yeah, with joggers and your old dog-walking Uggs.”

“Don’t start.”

She tightens her ponytail. “I take it you’re not going to party with us after?”

“No.”

She growls. Literally. And whips around to face me. “I swear to Jesus, Arianna Johnson—”

The door pops open and I shush her, but she flips me off.

“Don’t shush me, get a grip and come out!” she hisses, but her pout slips as does the slouch of her shoulders. “Chase will be there, so what?! Big freakin’ deal!”

Panicked, I look around, taking in the curious glances we’re getting as we walk through the common area. “Cameron, stop.”

Her eyes flash. “Fuck these gossipy bitches. Like I care.”

I jump forward, planting my feet in front of her. “I care, all right? I don’t need people to know my business!”

“What business would that be, ‘cause the way I see it, you have none!”

“Would you stop and process this for a minute. Do you really think I want to go watch girls throw themselves at Chase—a football player, in a football house, after the first home football game of the year?” My brows rise.

Her eyes fall.

“I want to go watch my brother and my friends play, that’s it. Find someone else to sit with or get over it.”

“Whatever.” She purses her lips, studies me for a moment, then stomps past me. “But for the record, I’m not going to stop asking you to come out, so you can get over that.”

A grin slips over my face, and I step through the door she holds open for me, a big, fake smile on her rosy lips.

Only once we’re through the gate and taking our seats in the stadium, do I turn to Cameron.

“For the record, I don’t want you to stop asking.”

She glares, but a glaze falls over her eyes and she nods, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “You’re just… I’m worried, you know?”

I swallow past the knot in my throat. “I know.”

She sniffles and straightens her spine. “Okay, so think we can convince those guys over there to buy us beer?”

We laugh and face forward.

Twenty minutes later, the crowd is roaring, the stadium packed full of blue and gold.

It looks like half of the student body made it out tonight to catch the opening game of the season.

It’s a little bittersweet to look around, knowing none of our families are here, something the boys have never experienced before. There wasn’t a single game as kids where at least one parent wasn’t in attendance, and ninety-five percent of the time, both were. We were lucky like that.

They were always there for us, so the moment we got to campus, they took off to travel through Europe, something they’ve been planning and saving for the last four years. As soon as Brady’s dad was given the okay to take the leave, they put everything in motion. Once my parents knew Kenra was okay, they left, but I have no doubt they’re huddled around a TV or computer right now, wherever they are, watching.

The very first play of the game is a wicked fifty-yard pass, the kind that gives you chills as you trail the perfect spiral, and your entire body lights up when it falls effortlessly into the waiting hands of an Avix U receiver. It only gets more exciting from there.

The air is electric, the crowd passionate, and the team feeds off the hype.

It’s exactly what I needed, a bit of normal. Game nights have always been a favorite of mine.

Time flies as we stand, shouting and cheering under an entirely new set of Saturday night lights.

Being the beast he is, Brady’s lucky enough to be in for the majority of the game, while Chase and Mason had most of their playing time in the third and fourth quarter. Chase didn’t get to touch the ball, but he laid some good blocks, and while Mason didn’t get to show off his arm, his hand off in the backfield was on point, his footwork even better.

My brother has always been slick on his feet and from the few minutes he was on the turf today, it’s obvious he’s only gotten better.

But the timeclock is almost out and the starters are back on the field now, nearly the entire stadium on their feet as we watch, waiting to see what the play call will be.

It’s a quarterback keeper, and the man wearing the number nineteen steps and jukes past a corner, who threatens to take him down, spins off the shoulder pads of the second defender, and the crowd erupts, chills breaking out over my arms as I push onto my toes in time to watch as he leaps over a swarm of determined Sharks, who drive the defending team into the backfield.

The buzzer sounds right as the quarterback jumps to his feet in celebration, and it’s touchdown number four. Avix University takes the win with a one-point lead in the last five seconds of the game.

Cam and I jump up and down with the rest of the crowd, hugging and cheering.

Tears fill my eyes, and I pull my lips in. This is a day Mason, Brady, and Chase will never forget. Hell, I’ll never forget it. They worked so hard to get here, and I’m so proud of all three. I can’t wait for them to earn more time on the field.

Cam squeals, pulling me alongside her through the crowded tunnel. “That was so cool, Ari!” She high fives a random group of guys that run by chanting in playful drunkenness. Laughing, she turns back to me, her tan cheeks flushed with excitement. “You have to wait with me and congratulate them!”

“I am.” I smile, but even I realize my nod is a little overeager.

She squeezes my arm. “You got this, sister.”

“Yeah.” I inhale deeply.

Maybe.

It’s a good forty minutes before the team begins to file out from the stadium tunnels and the tailgaters erupt in cheers once more. Our boys’ smiles can’t get any wider as they glance around at the madness they didn’t get to see on their way in. Still, through the roar of the crowd and beyond the half-naked girls, they spot us perched against the light post and make a beeline right for us.

My smile’s uncontainable. I push off the cement pole and throw my arms around Brady’s neck when he comes at me full speed. He picks me up and whirls me around, laughing into my neck.

“How’d you like that, Ari baby?!” he shouts, laying one on my cheek and then trades me out for Cameron.

My brother steps up, wrapping me in his arms with a laugh. He shakes me. “I can’t even tell you what that felt like.”

I pull back and look at Mason’s smiling face. We’ve talked about this day since we were seven and he started youth football. This is the beginning of something big for my twin, and I can’t help but tear up over it.

“Stop it.” He laughs, shoving me lightly. “God, you’re just like Mom, cry baby,” he teases.

I laugh through my sob. “Yeah, well. I’m proud of you guys.”

Mason’s face softens and I know what he doesn’t have to say. Having me here with him at Avix means the world to him. He might be bossy and moody, but like me, my brother needs family and people he cares about nearby. He does about as well as I do alone, which is probably why it’s taking me longer than it should to wake up from my self-pity stage, because I’ve been pushing my family and friends away instead of taking comfort in the fact that they’re here for me. If only I’d allow them to be.

And they would be, but like I said, I won’t drive a wedge between my family. I’ll deal with it alone so that they don’t have to feel the void that comes with it.

A hand hesitantly brushes along my lower back to gain my attention, and I glance over my shoulder, my breath lodging in my throat as my eyes meet moss-green ones.

Chase.

His smile is small, cautious, and it’s heartbreaking.

My shoulders fall and I step from my brother’s embrace, turning to him.

He breathes a sigh of relief when I force myself to hug him as I did the others.

His heavy inhale has my ribs constricting, and I swallow the emotions threatening to give me away. “You did awesome tonight, Chase.” I whisper. “I’m so happy for you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping he lets go soon, unsure if I’ll be able to.

His arms fall from my body with ease.

Why wouldn’t they?

Chase clears his throat as he steps back, smiling with uncertainty. An apology lurks behind his lashes, and I hate it. I don’t want his apology or guilt or anything else relatively related to regret, so I do my best to pretend I don’t realize he’s silently begging for forgiveness and understanding.

“How did it feel?” I ask, my insides churning, trying to block out the pathetic girl conversations I made up in my head for this exact moment.

God, how different those went.

We were lying on the couch while he ran his hands through my hair, whispering, replaying the images of his first college game, a night that will forever be stamped into his memory.

A memory I won’t be a part of, because it’s not my pillows he’ll be lying on tonight.

Why am I such a girl?

“It’s kind of surreal.” Chase’s eyes light up, creating a strain behind my own. “It was crazy out there. Those guys were massive.”

“You’re telling me, they looked like a team full of Brady’s!” Cam laughs, hopping onto Brady’s back.

Mason grins, glancing around. “I guess everyone’s getting ready to head out.” He turns to me, his smile flipping to a frown when he looks at my pants. “You’re not coming again.” His tone is accusatory.

I shrug, looking anywhere but him. “Not tonight.”

My brother waits for me to peek up and then pointedly flicks his eyes to Chase, who is chatting with Cam now, all to bring them right back to me.

I hold his gaze but give him nothing.

After a moment, he blows out a frustrated breath. “I’ll walk you back.”

“Our dorm has a group walk, they’re at the left gate, but I have to get over there because they leave in ten minutes.”

His eyes narrow. “Fine, but text me when you get home. Forget and I’ll be bangin’ on your door.”

“I won’t forget.” My lips twitch, and I look to the others once more. “Good job tonight, guys. I’ll see you—”

“Tomorrow.” Brady pins me with a pointed look. “Dinner.”

“Right.” I nod. “Bye.”

I rush away, joining the buddy walk back as promised.

Along the way I battle my brain.

I curse myself, wishing to wake up tomorrow morning and everything be back to normal, while simultaneously begging for a stroke of genius that leads to an excuse my brother will buy when I tell him I won’t be joining them for dinner tomorrow. Again.

But when I drop onto my bed, alone in my dorm while my friends are out celebrating this milestone that’ll never repeat itself, I remember the promise I made to Cam.

I remember the reason our families gave us a beach house and the purpose of us all working hard to make sure we could end up at the same college.

My feelings don’t get to take all that away.

So I’m going to suck it up, get up and go out.

Starting after tomorrow’s dinner.