NESSA

He wasn't there.

His seat in Western Civ was empty, and a cold dread sank into me. Was he really that unwilling to face me that he was going to ditch out on class? Or was it something else?

I spent that class period ignoring Professor Evans completely and instead searching online for any hint, any clue. But Grayson's social media was sparse. The only pictures or updates were things other people had tagged him in, and there wasn't anything since last football season.

Biting my lip, I tried to think if he'd told me his moms' names. Or of anyone else who might have a clue. But I was coming up empty.

By the end of the week, I decided to give in and knock on his door. But Bren had come for the weekend to visit again, and I had to push him back into our room so that he wouldn't interfere.

"I'm just trying to give you back up," he said, following me down the hallway. "You've done that for me plenty."

Stopping, I turned around and took a few steps toward our room again, forcing him to retreat. "If by back-up, you mean pulling you off of Quinton before you actually killed him, then yeah. You're welcome."

Bren threw up his hands in defeat, an easy smile on his face. "Yeah, I'm really not cut out for jail."

If any of us could survive jail, it would be Bren. But it would also probably harden that secretly soft soul of his, and I was glad we were able to avoid that.

His hands fell down, and so did his grin. "I'm just cautious, you know." He looked pointedly at Grayson's door. "Isn't he rooming with Brodie?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but I don't think Brodie is much of a threat now that your dad is out of the picture."

Bren's face soured at that. Skeptical and angry.

"Besides," I added, keeping my voice down. "Grayson is...he's nothing like him. He's nothing like the other football players."

He sighed. "If you say so."

"I do."

I felt confident about that. Even though it had been two weeks of wondering where the hell Grayson was, I still knew. I knew he was different.

Bren nodded, but he didn't move. I raised my brow at him, waiting for him to take his departure so I could get this over with. I just needed to know if Grayson was here. I needed to know what was going on.

"I'll just stay right here," Bren said when he caught my drift. He leaned against the wall. "You go on."

I looked at the ceiling for a moment, exasperated.

"Go back to the room, Bren," I said, lowering my gaze again. "If Grayson is in there, you being around is not going to make this better."

"Why? Grayson and I are cool. I mean, before all this, anyway."

"Yeah, and before he found out about...." I gestured a finger back and forth between us. "You know."

Bren's brows drew together.

"No. I don't know, Nes."

"Me. You. That thing that happened."

Bren stared blankly at me.

"Oh my god," I groaned. "Don't make me say it."

A light bulb went on in Bren's head. "Oh." His eyes grew wider, and he stood up a little straighter. "That."

"Yeah, that," I said dryly. "Grayson wasn't thrilled to learn that little bit of information."

"Oh, come on." Bren rolled his eyes. "It was months ago."

"Believe me, I'm aware. But we're still friends, and he seemed a little...I don't know. Threatened by you."

"That's ridiculous." But then Bren leaned back against the wall again, shoving his hands into his pocket. His eyes lingered on my face for a second as he seemed to mull over what I'd said. Eventually, a cocky grin spread on his face. "Threatened, huh?"

I smacked his arm. "Stop looking so pleased with yourself." 

"Sorry, but you just said that the starting wide receiver of the OSU football team is threatened by my dumb ass." He shrugged. "You know I'm the kid that football players walked all over in high school, right?"

"Well, you've definitely changed, Bren."

"I guess so," Bren said, laughing. He kicked off the wall and began walking backward in the direction of my dorm, where Madie and Beau were still watching a movie. He dropped his voice, speaking quiet enough that I could barely hear him. "I hope he's there, Nessa. And I hope this is just a big misunderstanding."

A response lodged in my throat, but Bren seemed to understand. He gave me a nod and then turned to stride back down the hallway.

"Me too, Bren," I finally whispered. "Me too."

But when I summoned the courage to knock on Grayson's door, Brodie answered.

I looked past him into the room, hoping to see those familiar gray eyes. But all I saw on Grayson's side of the room was a messy bed and one of my sweatshirts that I must have forgotten before leaving for spring break. No Grayson.

"Nessa?" Glancing up, I saw Brodie rubbing the back of his neck hesitantly.

"Hey, I just...." The words died in my throat. I didn't like this guy. I knew there was more to him than I initially thought, but I couldn't get his cold voice out of my head, all the things he'd said to Madie. And I wouldn't be able to handle it if he turned that attitude onto me right now. "I just came by to get my sweatshirt," I said finally.

I pointed to it, and Brodie's blue, beady eyes followed my finger. He opened the door wider, letting me come in.  Quickly, I crossed the room and snatched the sweatshirt, ignoring the instant wave of spicy cologne that came with it. Grayson's cologne.

My chest tightened.

Whirling around again, I opened my mouth to ask where the hell he was, but Brodie cut me off.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon," he said.

So he was on campus. He was on campus, and he was ignoring me.

"Oh," was all I said. It was all I could think to say.

"But maybe you don't want to talk about that," he added.

About how he was avoiding me? Yeah, not really.

"Anyway, I'm sorry." Brodie swallowed hard. "I know you and Grayson were..." He drifted off, shaking his head. "Crazy how things change so quick."

I sucked in a breath.

"Stuff like this is always shitty," Brodie added, and he looked awkward. He looked like any guy did when faced with comforting females. "But it'll be okay, I'm sure."

Choking on air, I held my sweatshirt closer to my chest. Clinging to the last little bit of Grayson that I would apparently have.

I didn't know what to say back to Brodie. He seemed to know something I didn't, but it didn't matter. Whatever story he'd heard didn't matter. What mattered was that he seemed to know that whatever was between Grayson and me...it was done.

Only it definitely wasn't okay.

****

Three weeks without hearing from Grayson, and the sadness I had been clinging to slowly started to morph into anger.

I carried that anger around with me on campus, bringing it from class to class. Study session to study session. Every day. And it was exhausting. But I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't know how to move on without closure.

My stomach still hurt at the thought of him. My heart ached. It was cheesy and cliche. It was everything I'd read about, everything I'd seen in movies, but that was how I knew it was true. That was how I knew that Grayson had a piece of me. I was missing that part. And until I found it again, I didn't know how to keep going.

Brodie's voice repeated, over and over in my head.

Crazy how things change so quick.

Crazy.

I was his. That piece of me that Grayson had? He hadn't even taken it; I'd surrendered it. And now he didn't want it anymore?

There were too many goddamn football players on this campus. Grayson once mentioned there were more than a hundred of them, and I barely believed him at the time. But now, I did. Because it seemed like no matter which way I turned, they were there. Most of them didn't know who I was, though, and I was grateful for that.

Julian, on the other hand...

His red hair was like a beacon, making him impossible to miss as I walked through the student commons one day. And within seconds of spotting him, his eyes connected with mine. I quickly looked away, but not before he started to push his way through the sea of college students walking between classes.

Fuck.

"Nessa!"

No, I couldn't do it. I couldn't face another one of Grayson's teammates and listen to them pity me. I couldn't handle awkward condolences from college boys who didn't mean them. I wouldn't be able to listen to Julian tell me that it would be okay. Because I wasn't so sure that was true.

So I fled.

When he called after me again, I turned on my heel and took off, practically sprinting back to my dorm. Madie was gone when I got there, so I curled up in my bed, grabbed my ukulele, and started strumming.

My song came to my fingers, the one I had never finished writing. It hurt now, trying to play it and remember all the chords. Because they only reminded me of Grayson.

I imagined him sitting outside our room, listening to the song. Memorizing it. Practicing it on the piano. And then I remembered how he'd played it for me, pushing into my heart with a handful of notes.

Maybe I wouldn't ever find closure with Grayson. It certainly didn't seem like he was going to give me that. Maybe I could find it in this song, though. If I managed to finish it, then maybe it would feel like we were finally finished, too.

So I did. It took hours to do, and I sacrificed a lot of tears, but I did it. Madie came home when I was writing the last lines, and she just sat back on her bed, quietly working on homework and listening, giving the occasional encouraging smile.

But when I finally played the entire song from beginning to end, I glanced up, saw the glossy look in Madie's eyes, and knew I was wrong.

There would be no closure when it came to Grayson Everett. He was a part of me now.

He was this song.

And this song was mine.

💗

Thanks so much to everyone who is reading. I appreciate you!

xoxo amelie