Our argument had been for naught after all, because the season was over. The guys lost. The game had been fair and square, but that didn't make it better, of course. Aidan had scored creatively for the team in the second half, but the Jumbos had eventually counted another solid goal on their score and vanquished the Panthers.

As the final whistle sounded, I excused myself and speedwalked to the side of the field. John's slumped posture and forceful kicks against the astroturf announced to the world that his frustration ran bone-deep. If only I could keep him from spiraling.

"Hey, good game."

He chuckled humorlessly, fisting his sweaty, tousled hair. "We lost."

"But you all put up one hell of a fight. It was nerve-wracking to watch."

"I tripped over my own fucking feet."

"That happened one time. Tufts made some gross mistakes, too." Please, let me help.

John exhaled loudly. "No, they didn't. Please drop it. We weren't good enough, period. Look, I gotta go, but I'll see you later."

Without so much as awaiting my response, he followed the men to the locker room. Well, this went fantastically.

"Wow," said Liam, who stepped up from behind me. I didn't know how much he had heard and suddenly I was embarrassed. I had sounded clingy and needy.

"Don't start, Liam." But of course he did.

"Is he always like this?"

"Of course not. They lost, in case you missed that. He's upset."

"I'm sure his friends will build him back up." Despite the thick padding of my coat, I felt every one of his pats on my forearm as if they were whippings.

My blood heated up, but I willed my exterior to project cold. "I am his friend. And I'm going to the party tonight to make sure he's okay."

I was provoking him, but didn't I have at least some right to go? Liam closed his eyes for one second, two, three—my heartbeat in my throat.

When he opened them again, his face was serene. "You're right. You should go and check on him. He's lucky to have you as a friend."

Umm... what?

It appeared I had said that out loud, because Liam said: "Yeah, I was out of line. I'm sorry. Of course you'll go see your friends."

I narrowed my eyes ever so slightly, cocking my head. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

He sent me the dazzling smile that never failed to warm my belly. I loved how it made me feel like I was the center of his attention. Then he gently pulled me in for a hug and pressed his lips to my temple. I melted into him, slinging my arms around his waist, and my eyes flew shut. Just like that, all of the messy fighting from earlier was forgotten.

"Positive. Call me if you need me to pick you up and walk you home later."

"Okay," I whispered, "thank you."

***

I had expected the party tonight to resemble a collective licking of wounds more than a celebration of anything. However, John's crankiness had misled me. People were actually having fun for the most part, and though there was only low music and now dance tonight, at least no one was moping around and killing the mood. The losing parties, it seemed, turned into a hangout more than into a fiesta.

Hopefully that also meant I'd catch John at a better stage of his grieving process. The significance he attributed to a ball game seemed exaggerated to me, but it clearly held symbolic importance for him. The psychologist-in-training in me presumed from his utterings that it had to do with a deep frustration with failure, a fear of not being worthy. Not that he would ever explicitly say so, and I knew better than to analyze him to his face.

John and Devin's suite hosted again that night, but once I had finished the last of my homework, I had been late for the pregame and had showed up for the main party instead. Upon my knocking, Zach, a rare apparition at the suite, had opened up. Thanking him for letting me in, I dropped my coat onto the furry pile that had grown on two chairs right beside the door.

The common area was only illuminated by a couple of nightstand lamps on the coffee table and the TV table, instantly making the event seem more exclusive and cozy. Some people were standing in small groups, four people were crammed on the couch with another perched on the armrest, laughing loudly about something one of them had said, and two people had found seats in the armchairs toward the back of the room. Upon second glance, I noticed it was Linh and Greg.

First I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchenette, then began to push my way over to Linh. The suite wasn't spacious and the bedroom doors were shut so no one could "get lost." The only trouble I should have had was squeezing my way past the unmoving bodies of people drinking and talking over the not-too-loud pop music coming from someone's bluetooth speakers. Focusing on not tripping over any limbs and spilling the large plastic cup of water in my hand, I stepped into the room. A couple of people turned around and greeted me.

Aidan spotted me and called: "Hey, thanks for coming to the game!"

"Of course. Thanks for reminding me again. And congrats on your awesome goal today!"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Wasn't enough to turn the game around in our favor."

Really, him too?

"Still, the entire team gave their all, what more can you expect?"

"We could've used the win. But anyway, I'm not too bitter. Some of the guys were frustrated with the score."

Oh really, I didn't notice. At least he was a better sport than John. His attitude seemed healthier.

I expressed my understanding and was interrupted by Devin calling my name. As he approached me, the beer in the solo cup in his hand sloshed over the rim a little due to his enthusiastic movements. He didn't notice and extended his hand for a high five, but decided to sling an arm over my shoulder before I even had a chance to lift my own hand. Aidan excused himself and turned back around to the small group of players he had been talking to before I had arrived.

"Good to see you, Gracie! You haven't been over in a while."

"I know," I sighed. "You know coursework never sleeps."

"Oh yeah? I hear it's because of your beau."

I ducked my head and he grinned. Word does travel fast in this group.

"How can you be so cruel? You're breaking my poor little heart." He gripped his chest.

"Devin, your heart is on your left, not on your right," I deadpanned.

"What?! Then why do they say someone's heart is in the right place?"

I was speechless for a second. "Are you drunk? You're a biology major!"

"Am I drunk? Is the Pope Catholic?"

I rolled my eyes and slipped away from him, only to almost literally run into John. What was the matter with this legion of people in this tiny suite? Not that I wasn't happy to see John, but all I had wanted since three people ago was to say hi to Linh. Instead I now faced John's chest—his very fit chest, in a thin anthracite knit sweater.

"Hey," we said in unison, then smiled.

"Um... about today," John began, then started looking for the right words. After a second, he continued: "I'm mad that we lost, but I'm glad you came and cheered. I shouldn't have bitten your head off after the game, I'm sorry. I feel like I'm telling you this a lot lately."

My heart warmed. John wasn't vocal about anything related to emotions, but it was moments like this one in which he showed how much he cared about those close to him. About me.

"I appreciate you saying that. But we're good. I know it was never personal, so let's forget about it."

He looked at me for a second, then lightly touched my arm. My stomach fluttered as his eyes fixated me, his voice warm. "Thanks, Grace. You're seriously the best."

The suite door had opened without making any sound, at least not loud enough to be heard over the sound of the speakers. John excused himself and made his way across the room, his girlfriend had arrived. Apparently they weren't fighting, judging by the intimate kiss they shared.

I valued being friends with John and spending time with him, but I didn't like how he would often end our conversations whenever she showed up. Even if I supposed it was for the best that we kept a reasonable distance. Especially with shit happening like that stomach flutter a minute ago. Not that I could have stopped it, but what the heck had that been? I need to get a grip. Being seriously the best didn't get you anywhere in life.

Sighing, I plopped down on the armrest of Linh's chair that I had finally reached and bent down to her until my head rested on her shoulder.

"D'you want to talk about it?" she asked, brushing a loose lock of hair out of my face.

"Yes, but not tonight," I quietly groaned in response.