Page 9 of Calm Before the Score

“Not jealous. Just trying to save her from Locke.” I scoff, but she’s right. I was jealous, and those aren’t emotions I’m willing to dig up from the grave at lunch.

“Hmm..” She pushes her salad around the plate with mischief in her eyes. “Didn’t seem like she was backing down from thechallenge, and I had already offered to take it.” She grins, and her eyes jump to the entrance. My back is facing the door, so I can’t see who she’s frantically motioning to our table. Liza’s bag is occupying the seat next to her, and the only other available spot at our four-person table is next to me.

“Vi, how was class?” Liza asks our new lunch companion, quickly shooting a wink in my direction.

Ryan Shane, your timing is unreal.

She’s standing at the end of our table, gripping both straps of her black Northface backpack. I don’t engage in the girls’ conversation about class in hopes that this will be a short pass by and she’ll leave the table. Instead, I put my head down and continue to finish off my first buffet plate.

“It was okay. Natural Science isn’t my favorite class in the world, but the prerequisites have to get done.” I lift my head from the plate slightly to catch a glimpse of her. She’s zoned in on Liza, trying her best not to look at me.

“Come sit with us. Ryan and I were just catching up about how football is going. Right, Ryan?” She shoots me a death glare. I guess I don’t have much of a choice here.

“Seat’s open.” I gesture to the spot next to me.

“Okay. I have a few minutes before my next class begins.” Being this close to Violet elicits a natural response from my body. Every inch she squirms in her seat sends my eyes in her direction. She mindlessly picks at her nails and keeps her eyes glued to Liza. She seems unsure, and I hate that I put her in an uncomfortable position after the stunt at the party. Hopefully, Liza keeps her mouth shut about the kiss.

“Are you ready for the game this weekend? I’m so pumped. Your first Springs U game is going to be epic.” Liza crosses her hands under her chin and wiggles her shoulders.

“I am. I can’t wait to see Hartley on the field again. It’s been way too long.”

My heart hammers in my chest. Knowing Violet will be in the stands this weekend unleashes a primal need to play well.

“Hartley and Ryan are going to kill it this season,” Liza says with a nod in my direction. I guess that’s my cue to speak since I’ve rendered mute throughout this entire conversation. Every time I open my mouth around Violet, I say something stupid, or my tongue is down her throat.

“Yeah. Should be a good game.” I tilt my neck slightly to Violet, and we catch eyes, but she darts them back to Liza.

“Bust out that jersey, girly, and get ready to scream,” Liza says.

What jersey will she wear to the game?Hartley’s, I’m sure.

Now, I’m consumed with the image of Violet screaming my name in the stands. That’s it. I need to remove myself from this table before I ruin a perfectly normal lunch.

“I’ve got to get to class. Bye, girls.” I jet out before Liza can twist my arm into staying a second more. In the distance, I swear Liza’s voice says, “Smooth, Ryan!”

Violet

Classes were incredibly long and taxing today. It doesn’t help that my ruminating thoughts have taken over. Thoughts like these have been a serious struggle since I was nine years old. Some days are better than others, but they kick up a notch when I’m under a lot of stress.

Lunch was awkward, but I couldn’t ignore my new friend. I couldn’t risk potentially running off someone who was beyond welcoming. Ryan kept quiet for the most part, but that didn’t stop my jitters from surfacing. I tried my best to keep the conversation between Liza and me, but his presence dominates the room. Every inch he moved elicited a response from my body. He’s also extremely easy on the eyes, so avoiding eye contact is that much more difficult.

I’m spent from that unexpected encounter mixed with the stress of my workload, but Liza invited me to dinner tonight, andI don’t want to bail. The walk from my apartment to the dining hall is a short one, and the weather is nice enough in the evening. On the walk, I run through every scenario that could possibly go wrong.

What if Liza invited others to dinner? Will they like me? Will Ryan be there again?

My breathing becomes short, and a fire flames over my cheeks. My hand instinctively darts to my hair and begins twirling repeatedly. Shoot. I need to calm down and manage my stress. Social interactions shouldn’t send me into a spiral. Before entering the dining hall, I take four deep breaths and practice one of my favorite grounding techniques: feel, see, touch. My body’s feeling more regulated than before, so I take the opportunity to walk in before I change my mind and run home.

Luckily, I spotted Liza alone at a window seat close to the entrance. She’s lost in thought, thumbs racing as she types out a text.

“Hey, Liza,” I say timidly.

“Violet! Hi, I’m so happy you’re here!” She jumps up and throws her arms around me.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Let’s grab our first plate. Then, we can break down that party,” she giggles and leads the way to the buffet options. I opt for veggie pizza, and Liza chooses chicken fettuccine.

“I absolutely love the food here. The dining plan pays off leaps and bounds,” she says as she shovels a spoon of noodles in her mouth.

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