Page 20 of The Captain

I miss her immediately.

But that was how my life was going lately. Missing Cassie happens with every breath I take.

“We should go out there.”

I don’t say another word, just open the door, ignoring the old fuck who was staring disapprovingly at us and making our way back to our seats, her with Mickey and Vic and everyone I love, and me with my teammates.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be next to her, holding her hand, laughing with my family, loving her.

Loving her.

I’d failed spectacularly at proving my love for her.

I couldn’t let myself keep failing.

I need a plan to show her how much I care and how much I don’t want to let her go.

And if she’ll let me close again, I won’t fail her a third time.

EIGHT

Cassie

Five Months Ago

I was walking home when I heard the yelling. It was a joyful sort of whooping, and I smiled when I heard it, happy that someone was happy.

It took me far too long to understand that it was someone yelling for me.

“Cass!” Pounding footsteps came up behind me, and I turned just in time to see Lincoln barreling into me. He didn’t stop, though. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my waist and spun me around like this was some common thing we did.

I couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from my lips.

“What are you doing, you big dork?” I asked as he sat me down, smiling at me like I was the only person in the world he wanted to see. That was a very dangerous line of thought, and I worked hard to get my own smile under control.

“I did it! We fucking did it!” He held up a piece of paper, a quiz from his journalism class, and right there on top was a red B with a circle around it.

I squealed in delight and grabbed the test from his hands. I was thrilled that our hard work had paid off, that my tutoring had actually worked.

“I’m so proud of you,” I said and then cleared my throat, trying to remember who the hell I was talking to. It wasn’t easy. This last week, I’d seen him every single day to work on his quizzing, getting him prepared for the test. He was nervous as hell, and I knew that because he kept texting me:

I’m so fucking nervous. I’m going to puke.

It was charming, to say the least.

But this was Lincoln, my sworn enemy, and it would only hurt me if I forgot that.

“Good to know there’s a working brain in that head of yours,” I said to cover up the gushy, proud words.

“Yeah, I was hoping it still worked too,” he joked, tapping the side of his head. I really wish he would stop being nice. I had no room for Lincoln Ellis in my life, and if he started to behave himself and pretended we were friends? No. Couldn’t do it.

“Well, good work.” I gave him a wave as I turned back to walk home.

Before I’d taken two steps, he was beside me, walking too. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Another favor? Really racking them up, huh?”

He pursed his lips. “I want you to come to the game tonight.”

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