I glanced over my shoulder from where I stood over the sink cleaning the last of the water bottles. Grady walked out of the locker room glaring at me. He would’ve had to work harder than that to get me to roll over.
My eyes flashed around the nearly empty room. A few stragglers were finishing up. Brooks shoved his belongings into his bag, his eyes darting from mine as soon as I spotted him. Was he still waiting for a thanks? Waiting for me to show my appreciation for him stepping in earlier? I knew what that entailed in a college quarterback’s mind, and it’d be a cold day in hell before that ever happened.
Turning back to the sink, I dried my hands. It was going to be a long season. I’d come to Alabama hoping to fly under the radar—hell, it’s how I’d been living my life for the last two years. But now I had Grady on my back and the QB hating me. Things were definitely off to a stellar start.
I strolled up the winding path from the stadium toward Harris Hall, my hands pruned from water and my head pounding with an impending headache. Luckily, I hadn’t been placed in a freshmen dorm. Because, though I technically was a freshman, I should have been a junior. Taking two years off had set me back—in more ways than one.
With most students, including my roommate Sabrina, not scheduled to arrive for another two weeks, it had given me time to adjust. Time to get my bearings. Time to acknowledge the fact that I was now living someone else’s dream.
My first week had been tough. Baking in the hot sun all day while waiting on expectant football players wasn’t at all glamorous. If I hadn’t lathered myself in SPF 100 each morning, I would’ve fried out there, giving me more freckles on my nose than was acceptable now that I wasn’t a little kid anymore. Mom and Dad had called and texted daily. I knew they worried about me. But they had their own lives to move on with. So my decision to attend Alabama gave us all the space we needed to heal in our own way.
I flashed my keycard at the front door of my dorm, the closest one to the stadium in the village of contemporary five-story structures. I climbed the stairs to the third floor and made my way down the empty hallway. I stopped at my door, admiring my fancy artwork on the whiteboard—Finlay and Sabrina in red marker interlocking with bright red flowers. No one was going to say I didn’t have Bama in my blood.
I punched in the code and stepped inside the room, dropping onto my red comforter and falling onto my back. I didn’t sleep much, but the thick heat and direct sunlight I endured all day seemed to be the key. Because for the first time in months, my eyes drifted shut effortlessly. And for a short time, I could be sure my mind would remain a blank slate. With too much time on my hands and not enough sleep, the nightmares and memories crept in, stealing every drop of happiness I could muster. And for the past two years, those drops had been hard to come by.
I jolted up from my bed. Even with air conditioning pumping through the vents in my dark dorm room, I sat in a puddle of my own sweat. It happened often. My subconscious had a field day while I slept, haunting me with a myriad of regrets.
I grabbed my phone from my nightstand. Four in the morning. That sounded about right. Heaving a deep breath, I rolled out of bed and made my way to the shower down the hall, a necessity after one of my “episodes.” Once the cold water had wrenched the sweat from my body, I threw on shorts and a T-shirt and headed out for a run. Running was the only thing that knocked the memories from my head. At least for a little while.
I stepped outside into the dark morning, the hot air forming an imaginary blockade against me. My lungs expanded on a long, deep breath as I began my slow trek up the hill from my dorm at the bottom of campus, passing the other dorms shrouded in darkness.
Once I reached the quad, I maintained a steady pace. Even in the darkness, I took in the asymmetrical trees that created a canopy around the outskirts of the grass. Blue security lights lit each corner, the only means of safety in the dark space. Unlike my younger self, the darkness didn’t scare me. Nor did those who lurked in the darkness. In my world, life and its unexpected curveballs were much scarier. Much more detrimental to one’s well-being.
I picked up speed, challenging myself. Competing with the internal struggle I felt being on campus. By the time I’d circled the quad for the first time, my heart rate had accelerated. I knew I could run faster. Smoother. Without gasping for air. So I pumped my arms, giving myself a push to gain speed. My faster pace created an early morning breeze against my face. I felt something I hadn’t felt in some time. Free.
“What’s the rush?” a deep voice asked, startling the hell out of me.
My head whipped to the right.
Caden Brooks jogged beside me, keeping pace with me.
“It’s called jogging.” I didn’t stop. If anything, I moved faster.
“Well, that’s stupid.”
My head recoiled. “What?”
“Didn’t anyone teach you to be aware of your surroundings?”
No way in hell this guy was going to give me a safety lesson at four-thirty in the freaking morning. “Yeah, I guess if they had, I could’ve avoided you following me.”
“Following you?”
“We both ended up here, didn’t we?” I asked, hating that I struggled to talk while running.
“I’ve gone to this school for two years,” he continued. “Everyone knows it’s my morning ritual. If anyone’s following someone, it’s you. Wouldn’t be the first time a fan tried to get near me.”
With my face contorted in disgust, I slowed to a stop. Did girls really fall for this guy?
Brooks’ legs continued to move as he glanced over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving you and your ego alone,” I called. “You deserve to be together.” I turned and jogged back down the hill toward my dorm. I could jog on the sidewalks down there.
Caden Brooks could have the quad.
