102

Kassie

Concern

For the first time in months, I wore my own hoodie.

I forgot I even owned that hoodie.

There weren't any hickies to hide but I practically crouched inside of it, walking across campus with the cardboard box in hand, keep it a good six inches away from me like I was carrying something infected.

In the box is everything. All the little knick knacks and Romans crap and things Ryan bought me and things he purposely left behind, pretending like he hadn't meant to. Everything.

The training center loomed overhead and my eyes shot to the ground. There were so many people inside that knew me, so many people that I knew, and the quieter I went about this, the better it'd be. This is a surgical procedure. Ripping off the bandaid and tossing it in the trash. Nothing more.

"No, I have my little sister on Sunday."

My eyes flickered up at the familiar sound and I ducked down again. Adam and King looped close, both in conversation together, and my heart hammered in my chest.

"Bring my niece along," Adam retorted. "She'd be great for the party."

King grunted in disbelief and Adam started up a whole charade about how they could sanction off one of the rooms for her.

They'd texted me too. Adam told me I'm still required to hang out with them and King sent a long paragraph about how he hoped I was doing okay. I'd deleted the messages as soon as they'd popped in my inbox.

I couldn't face the boys. I couldn't do it.

Because if I saw them, I knew he'd be there.

Once I walked into the lobby of the training center though, I faltered. What was I supposed to do with the box? Take it to someone who worked with a football team?

How do I do this?

I'd never had so many reminders that someone took up root in my life. It was evidence I had to get rid of.

"No, I haven't heard from her," June's voice carried through the hall on her phone. My heart beat quickened again as she continued. "Kassie needs time. I don't know. Yeah. I don't know."

Oh god.

I took a hurried breath and lurched off to the right, off to the front desk. Dropping everything off with them was the right thing to do. They could call in Ryan.

Ryan, on the huge poster in front of me.

His muscular arms folded over his chest, his jersey taunt over his chest, the number four in the upper hand corner, and the hard glint in his eyes, the one he had in front of the press. The one that disappeared when he was with me.

"Nope, nope, nope" I whispered under my breath and stumbled back, running right into someone.

Of all goddamn days, of course . I hit the ground and the cardboard box went flying. Everything tumbled across the floor, the Marrs sunglasses he conventionally left in my bag after our trip to the pool, the jerseys I had littered around my room, all the sketches I'd drawn of him driving in his car, the number four magnets we had on our fridge— everything .

"I'm so sorry—"

Please no .

The hood of my hoodie fell back and I hurried to pick up everything before I could acknowledge the fact that Cleo stood in front of me, helping me to grab everything.

"Um— Kassie? "

I flinched and my eyes flickered up for half a second to see Cleo's shocked face, gazing down at me. Cleo, who somehow didn't fall even though she wore high heels, and me, who'd collapsed with a pair of good sneakers on, Cleo, gazing down at me with the most stricken face imaginable, eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Kassie." She reached down to pick up one of the extra Romans decal stickers I'd stored away for my laptop. "What…what is all this?"

"This is all my stuff," I blurted out, shoving everything back in the box. "I just picked it up from the desk."

Why did I SAY that?

Here was the perfect person to give all the crap to and I just couldn't do it. Literally, There wasn't a better person I could've handed off the cardboard box to but when the time came to it, I couldn't cut it out.

The embarrassment overwhelmed me.

"Kassie, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I feel awful—"

I snatched my Romans lanyard from under one of the chairs and wrapped my arms around the cardboard box, striding off to the doors without another word.

The realization was just as bad as crashing into someone and dropping everything. I didn't come to the training center to give his stuff back. I came to see him .

With the back of my hand, I hurried to wipe away the tears. Deep, deep, deep down all I wanted was for him to convince me. It was so stupid but I knew I'd been waiting for him to come around the corner and just tell me to go with him again, off to Ohio orMissouri or Iowa or any of the other places where he'd get drafted to.

The same places I'd have to give up everything.