Page 36 of The Love Playbook

“Hey, whatever works.”

I roll my eyes and flutter my fingers in a wave as I wrench open the door. “Byyyye.”

Once I’m outside, I tug my coat tighter. Even though it’s only the first week of October, the temperatures have been unseasonably cold, and I don’t particularly enjoy the frigid trek to class every day. Our dorm is the furthest from the lecture buildings, which means walking past the cafeteria and the other dormitories before I even reach the heart of campus, and it’s not even the dead of winter yet.

The massive library looms on my left, its large windows dark beneath the overcast sky. On my right, the courtyard normally dotted with students in the spring and summer is mostly empty and I follow the walkway winding along the colorful oaks and maples until I spot the education building. With my head lowered to brace against the breeze stinging my cheeks, I push through the heavy glass doors, making my way past the lobby to my right and down the long hallway that leads to the lecture hall.

Pausing in front of the large double doors, I slide my phone from my book bag and check the time. Seeing I’m early, I decide to call my mother. It’s been a week since I visited for my birthday and broke the news about my father, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls since.

I listen as the line rings, praying she picks up, but when her voicemail clicks on, I deflate and leave yet another message. “Hey, Mom. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Give me a call as soon as you get this.”

Gnawing on my lower lip, I stare down at my phone as the call ends, willing her to call me back.

Why the hell is she not picking up her phone?

Shit. What am I saying?

I know exactly why.

Heaviness descends over me, darkening my thoughts as I shove the phone into my back pocket where it lies heavily like a lead brick.

Somehow, I’d convinced myself Mom would snap out of her depression when I left for school, but I know firsthand that’s not how depression works. She’s likely spiraling, and I’m helpless to stop it.

All the progress she made in the last year, gone in an instant.

Inhaling, I take several deep breaths in an effort to loosen the tightening in my chest. Knowing there’s nothing I can do right now to help her doesn’t make it any easier, but as much as I don’t want to, I need to go to class and push this from my mind.

So, that’s exactly what I do as I push the lecture door open and make a beeline for Danger.

I follow behind the drove of students leaving the lecture hall with Danger at my side as he regales me with stories about his roommates. There’s no denying I’m attracted to him, but he also seems like a genuinely nice guy, and I can’t help but think about everything the girls said.

Don’t I want a boyfriend?

I glance over at him, taking in the strong jawline, the tiny dimple he gets on the left side of his mouth when he smiles, his hazel eyes. I should want him, and I do, but the idea of investing more than a couple of dates or outings with him turns my stomach inside out.

“What?” he asks when he notices my staring. “Do I have something on me?” He runs a hand over the side of his face.

“No.” I smile, trying to lift the weight on my chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, but in case you didn’t know, you’re pretty nice to look at.”

“Yeah?” He beams, staring down at me, the corners of his mouth lifting in a familiar grin, not unlike Chris’s.

Wait. Why the hell am I thinking of Chris?

“Yeah.” I swallow and offer him a nod. Surely, I’m just scared to put myself out there and get rejected; that’s what this weird knot in my chest means. Just because we’ve been flirting for weeks, doesn’t mean he’s interested. Maybe I just need to jump in headfirst.

“Actually, I was thinking?” The sound of my ringtone blaring from the pocket of my jeans cuts him off.

I wince, raising a finger out in front of myself. “Just hold that thought,” I say as I slide my phone from my back pocket and glance at the screen.

My stomach drops when I see it’s Carol. I have no idea why she’s calling, but since I haven’t heard from my mother, I can only imagine it’s not good.

“Um, I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I really need to take this.” I glance up at him to find him staring warmly down at me. “It’s about my mother. I’ve been trying to get a hold of her . . .”

“No worries,” Danger says, taking a step back. “I’ve gotta head to my next class anyway. Maybe we could meet up after the football game this weekend?”

I nod, biting my lower lip and hating the swell of relief settling inside my chest as I accept the call and press the phone to my ear. “Carol? Is everything okay?”

“I didn’t know if you’d answer,” she says, sounding relieved. “Honestly, I debated whether to even make this call . . .”

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