Page 72 of Breakaway Goal

The thought of all that coming to an end makes a dull, sad ache lodge next to my heart. I’ll miss those things even more than I’ll miss the orgasms he gives me. And that’s saying something.

But I try and blow those thoughts away with a sigh.

Letting the dread of ending something good sour the experience while it lasts is silly. Right now, I have friends, wine, pumpkins, and the anticipation of a toe-curling climax next time I see Rhys.

Maybe one of those things has an expiration date, but I resolve to just enjoy them all while they’re here.

I take a long sip of my wine, laugh at a funny story Hannah’s in the middle of telling, and plunge my knife into a new pumpkin.

Jasmineand I are back home, our newly carved pumpkins proudly looking out onto campus from our windowsill, small candles burning inside them. We have low, ambient lighting on in our room so that our Jack-o’-lanterns are visible to people walking by.

“Ordered!” Jasmine declares. We’re getting two massive burritos from a local Mexican place. Ordering delivery on aMonday night might be an irresponsible splurge, but we both agreed it was an appropriate way to end a good day.

I pat my grumbling stomach. “I can’t wait to stuff my face with that burrito,” I say dreamily. I haven’t eaten since an early lunch before noon.

“Speaking of various orifices getting stuffed,” Jasmine says archly, “it seems like progress has stalled on operation v-card. Do I need to set you up with someone? Plenty of guys in my classes I could easily sell on going out with a cute as hell artsy girl who’s hot to get deflowered.”

I bark out a surprised laugh. “Even if I wanted you to set me up with a date, please don’t use gross nineteenth-century vocabulary when doing it.”

“Even if? Does that mean Ishouldset you up with someone?” Jasmine’s already perched at the edge of her bed in excitement.

I haven’t told her about Rhys yet. Even though I know I can trust Jasmine … I don’t know, this whole thing with Rhys is so unbelievable, it doesn’t even feel real to me at times.

But the wine I had while pumpkin carving is loosening the screws on my self-control. It’s not right that I’m keeping something like this from my best friend, is it?

“Maddie?” Jasmine asks, seeming to notice the searching expression on my face. “Are you keeping something from me? Did you pick things back up with James and not tell me?”

The Monday after I kissed Rhys, I told James after class that I just wanted us to stay friends. I couldn’t help but read the disappointment on his face, but he was totally cool about it. We’re still friendly, and we still talk before and after class.

Shortly after I told him that, I saw him having coffee with another girl at Brumehill Brews in a way that looked very date-y, so I’m pretty sure he took it with stride and is beyond over me. Which I’m happy about.

“No, it’s not that,” I answer. The urge to come clean rises.

Jasmine leans forward with keen interest. “But itissomething?”

The last thread of my secrecy frays and snaps. I sit up from my bed and turn to her. I nod my head.

Her eyebrows leap. “Who? What? When?” she whips her head side to side. “Where? And why didn’t you tell me right away!”

My lips tug upward at her reaction. “It was—is—complicated.”

“Well?” She asks, breath bated.

I tap my tongue on my upper lip. “It’s Rhys.”

Jasmine blinks. Again. Her lips straighten. “Come again?”

My tipsiness pushes me to make an immature joke that’s not exactly fitting with the serious moment. “Since I’ve been fooling around with Rhys, yeah, again and again.”

Jasmine’s expression stays deadpan. “You and Rhys. Callahan?”

I nod, trying to bite back a smile by pursing my lips tight. “Yeah. Me and Rhys Callahan.”

Gosh, just saying it out loud feels so good.

A beat of silence passes with Jasmine’s expression still frozen. Then another.

Then, she screams.

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