The Hardest Fall

“No.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, drawing my attention to it. It was still short, pretty much the same length it had been the last time I’d seen him, so at least that hadn’t changed. I kind of liked him with short hair. Walking around the couch, he chose to sit right across from me and dumped his phone on the expensive marble coffee table. I winced at the sound. “He said he wasn’t aware that you’d be here, but it wouldn’t be a problem since you’re barely in the apartment. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be around much either, with football season starting and everything else going on. I won’t bother you.”

I sighed and rubbed my temple. “Sorry to crush your dreams, but I’m always here.”

He smiled, not a big, easy one that did things to my heart, just a promise of one. “You’re not crushing my dreams.”

Not knowing what to say—or more like not knowing how to say it—I fussed with the pillow in my lap instead of meeting his eyes. There was something unnerving about the way he kept meeting my gaze. “Did he tell you who I am?” He wouldn’t, of course he wouldn’t. I knew that, but still…

“He said you’re a family friend’s daughter.” There was a pause, so I looked up. “Are you not?”

I wanted to laugh. “Yeah, I am. Family friend. So, what’s your deal?”

A little hardness seeped into his eyes, and he leaned back. “My living situation changed in these last few days, and apparently I need a place to stay. Coach insisted that this would be okay. If you’re gonna be uncomfortable with me being around…if this is not okay, Zoe…”

With the speed I looked up I almost gave myself whiplash. His eyes were intent on me. He remembers my name? Sure, he would remember who I was—how could he forget that-weird-freshman-who-made-a-fool-of-herself—but he remembered my name? It had been a year since the last time I hadn’t quite managed to hide away from him, and a year was a long time to remember a stranger’s name.

“You remember my name?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

The smile came out again and his features visibly softened, now sincere, playful, and inviting. I forgot what I’d even asked. “Like I said back then, I had a feeling I’d get to see you again. I thought we’d get another shot. I didn’t think it’d take a year to get that shot…but here we are.”

There was that word again.

I gave up on the pillow, pulled my legs up and under me, and averted my eyes. Where was my phone when I needed it to hide behind? Instead, I sat up straighter and lightly grabbed the armrest with one hand. “What do you mean by another shot?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

“The kiss.” He tilted his head, and one of his eyebrows did this arching thing that made him look really attractive. “The last time we saw each other, we said maybe we’d make it happen next time. Ring any bells?”

That bell rang, all right. Turned out, I did know what he was talking about after all.

“See, the way I remember it, it was you who said that, and I’m pretty sure I was trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.”

“Why is that?” he asked without missing a beat.

I let go of my death grip on the armrest and rubbed my hands on my thighs. Did we have to talk about this again?

“Why is what?”

“Why do you always try to get away from me as quickly as possible?”

“Could it be because I don’t know you?”

“You told me you were going to kiss me the first time we met.”

I kept my eyes on the general area of his face. “First, we never actually met”—I did quick air quotes—“that first time. I didn’t give you my name, you didn’t give me yours. So, we didn’t actually meet, and I told you then that my friends…actually, not really friends, my roommate and her friends dared me to kiss you. I told you that, and just so you know, they already knew you were dating someone, apparently for quite some time, so they dared me to kiss you in front of everyone so I would make a fool out of myself and face your wrath. They thought it would be fun, thought I should loosen up a little. They didn’t like your girlfriend and wanted to see the look on her face.”

Fewer words, Zoe. Use fewer words, please.

He seemed to process what I had just blurted out and opened his mouth to answer, but before any words could come out, I sprang up from my seat in the hopes of ending the conversation. “You know what, none of this matters since it happened two years ago. I’d forgotten about it until you brought it up.” I stopped talking. He was staring at me, seeing right through my lie. Closing my eyes, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Okay, I’m lying. I didn’t forget about it, but I’d like to forget about it since it wasn’t one of my finest moments, if that’s okay with you. Now that we’re going to be roommates, I think that’s for the best. If you’re staying here, I should show you your room.”

Without looking at his face, I walked by him and toward the hallway that led to the extra room he would be staying in, right across from my room—two steps away from my room, if you want me to be absolutely exact.

My new roommate.

When life throws you a wide receiver out of nowhere, what are you supposed to do with him? Try your best not to look at him for too long, maybe? That’d be a good rule of thumb, I thought.

I heard his footsteps, so I knew he was following me. I opened the door and waited for him to step inside, all the while making sure not to look him in the eye. Like I said, I still needed time—alone. I needed time to calm down and process everything.

There wasn’t much furniture in the room. Just like mine, it had a pretty comfortable twin bed, a small wardrobe, a nightstand, a window that overlooked the road…and that was pretty much it, just the bare necessities, which was still better than most student apartments.

He walked past me and dumped a duffel bag right next to the bed, the same bag I’d thought he was using to stash my equipment in. I watched him quickly take everything in and then nod. “No desk, huh?”

“A desk?”

“You know, to study on?”

“Do you guys really study? I mean jocks, athletes—I always wondered. I thought you had other students do that for you.”

Stupid, stupid me.

Facing me, he raised his brows, and this time there was no playful smile forming on his lips. “I hadn’t pegged you as someone who would stereotype people.”

His words sank in, and I felt another flush in my cheeks. He was right—I actually hated people who stereotyped everyone, people who judged before actually getting to know a person. I was making an ass of myself yet again. Maybe it was something about him that unsettled me? That triggered the word vomit? It was easier to put the blame on him instead of admitting I was acting like a bitch.

Letting go of the door handle, I shook my head and backed up. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know you. I know a few people who play and just because they would rather die than open a book or take notes, that doesn’t mean you’re like that too. I’m sorry.” I reached for my own door and broke our brief eye contact, mostly focusing on his ear and the window behind him—anywhere but his eyes. “This is my room.” I pointed over my shoulder. “I’ll let you get settled in and maybe see you around later.” I opened the door and before disappearing inside, I turned back. “Oh, about the desk—I don’t have one in my room either, so I bought one off of Craigslist last year. It’s in the living room. I’m not sure if you saw it with everything else going on, but my camera equipment was on it. It’s pretty small, but it gets the job done. I rarely use it anyway, mostly use the coffee table. I’ll get my stuff off of it, so you’re welcome to use it anytime you want.”