Chapter 8 Jesse

M y heart leapt into my throat immediately when my phone rang around midnight, interrupting my late-night rewatch of Buffy .

"Laur—what's wrong?" I asked immediately, pulling on my hair and bracing for bad news.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm sorry; I should have texted. I know, the phone calls are the worst." Ever since our dad had a heart attack shortly after my injury, any middle-of-the-night phone call was cause for panic.

I blew out a breath, annoyed and so fucking relieved. "What could you possibly need at almost one a.m. on a Monday?" Shit. I should be asleep. Sleep had been difficult to come by since I stopped working toward returning to the game. Lying quietly while alone with my thoughts was an issue.

"Well, you know how Sam moved in with Zin?" I tensed at that. Of course I knew. Laur never stopped talking about it, but I had been avoiding it, too.

"Oh? That's so weird; you haven't mentioned it, like, at all."

"You're hilarious. When you're done crafting your new comedy special, Sam needs help, like, bringing the shop into the modern era—an inventory program, online booking capability on the website."

"Okay... not seeing what this has to do with me, Laur. And I'm exhaus—"

" You can help her, idiot."

A lump immediately appeared in my throat, and I swallowed it down. "She does not want my help. I can guarantee that."

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment. "Well, you're not wrong. But I think she knows she needs it. And she could do the new logo and help you with the shirt designs in exchange. It's seriously the perfect arrangement."

Lauren's optimism was a lot to take in the middle of the night. I rolled my eyes even though she couldn't see me.

"I mean, I guess? But Laur, I'm not in the mood to have someone... just, I'm not looking for drama. And Sam never even took my calls after that summer. I doubt the way you're picturing some reunion in your mind is how things would go."

"It was six years ago. The two of you must move past it because she is my best friend, and somehow, you and I are one of those weird pairs of siblings who hang out voluntarily now. It has to happen, and you might as well help each other while you do it. Go to the store tomorrow afternoon when you have time. Don't question it, byeeeee."

And then she was gone, and I was even further from sleep than I'd been before. My history with my sister's best friend was one of those things that made my head hurt if I thought about it for too long. Lauren claimed Sam would hardly talk to her after whatever we had sort of blew up. I didn't understand exactly what I'd done to wreck everything, and eventually, I'd given up trying. Not because I'd wanted to, but it seemed like that's what she wanted. I shook my head, trying not to let my mind wander too far down memory lane. There would be no ‘dropping by the shop.' I was not putting myself in the line of fire for another person to tell me how I'd disappointed them. Sam Marsh would just have to wait her turn.

That's what I told myself for a whole hour while I attempted to go to sleep. But every time I closed my eyes, I was right back in the summer before senior year. It had been the type of summer people make nostalgic movies about—all memories of late nights and laughing and dipping toes in the lake. It was far better than it had any right to be after Christy broke up with me for some college guy. Sam... she'd made things so easy. Taking the leap from friends to something more should have been awkward, but it was just like we fell into step. I hated that the longer I lay there in my bare room in my generic apartment, all I felt was a flicker of excitement about the possibility of seeing her again. An audible groan forced its way from my chest.

You are a glutton for punishment. I knew she probably hated me... but that feeling when her big blue eyes used to light up at seeing me—like I was someone important even though she'd never once seen me play ball? That was something I hadn't experienced with anyone else, and I'd do just about anything for the chance to prove I was still the guy who deserved it.

Well. It looked like I was going to be Sam Marsh's completely unqualified business consultant on the off chance she agreed to it—and I was going to make it hard for her to refuse.