Chapter 4

CHAPTER

FOUR

T he next few weeks were hell, and Charlie and his Monday night study group was the only bright spot in my life. Coach Larson and his training regime was kicking my ass, and it wasn't as though my efforts were even paying off in any way. Hell, practice didn't officially start until January, but that didn't mean Coach wasn't riding us as hard as he was legally allowed under the NCAA regulations. All that work, and I hadn't even picked up a bat or a glove under Coach's eye yet. The thought of actually getting to play a game felt about as far away as the Major League.

Nash was in the same boat as me. We were both tired, sore, and mentally fatigued before we even opened our textbooks or stepped into a classroom. If it wasn't for the study group, and Charlie, we would have been struggling even more. The way it worked was Charlie divided us up into smaller groups according to subject, and everyone helped each other out. Me and Nash and Awa ended up working together on Shakespeare, and Charlie checked in on us as he moved from desk to desk. It was weird, the way at the next desk they'd be going over Organic Chemistry, and we'd be discussing Romeo and Juliet . But it worked. And, somehow helping each other helped me figure some stuff out too. Awa was from Senegal, and she had real trouble with some of those long Shakespearean words, but Nash and I learned stuff while trying to figure it out with her.

But more than that, study group was fun. We might have been divided by subject matter and even year level, but by about our third week of meeting up, it felt like we were all friends. A team, just like the baseball squad, except I didn't secretly hope Marcus fucked up his paper so I could grab his spot on the Organic Chemistry roster once the season started. Because even if it worked that way, who would want that?

Amity, as soon as she figured out that Nash and I couldn't eat too much junk food, started to bring rice crackers and carrots and celery sticks and dip. She said she couldn't stand watching our sad, pathetic faces while everyone else snacked on chips and candy. Ryan, a senior, lugged his coffee machine over from his dorm every session. Chris invited everyone to join his indoor rock-climbing club, which sounded like a lot of fun, except Coach Larson would murder us if we busted our ankles as often as Chris did. I couldn't figure out if he was excellent at climbing or really, really bad at it, but in at least half his pictures on social media he was hobbling around on crutches.

So training and classes sucked, study group was great, and being a Kappa Beta Rho was fine now that the jello incident was behind me. Kappa Beta Rho had a reputation as a party house, which was probably true even if they had toned it down since Colt had left. I honestly wasn't there often enough to notice. Most nights I got in late—I spent a lot of time in the library even on non-study group nights, trying to make sure I didn't fall behind in any of my classes—and then my alarm sounded again at six. I was too tired to even jerk off, and that was saying something. Lately though, I preferred getting my hands on my snooze button instead of my dick.

I felt like I was slowly starting to settle into college life, and then Professor Harrison set us a paper with the question Who is to blame for each of these deaths: Mercutio, Tybalt, Paris, Romeo, and Juliet? And I realized that I was totally fucked.

I hadn't even read to the end yet, so there were some major spoilers there for a start.

Also, it seemed like the obvious answer was Shakespeare, but I wasn't sure Professor Harrison would agree.

On Monday, I turned up early to study group, knowing Charlie would be there early too. He always was. And also, I'd watched him leave Alpha Tau from my window and then counted out five minutes before I followed him to the library to make sure he didn't think I was stalking him.

"I need your help," I said as soon as I stepped into the room.

Charlie looked up from his phone. "With what?"

"Firstly, Juliet dies ? Why didn't I know that?"

"I don't know," he said, very, very slowly. "Why didn't you? It literally tells you in the opening lines."

"I still didn't understand anything when I started it," I said. "It's only now I'm in the middle that it's starting to look like real words. Anyway, that's not the point. Professor Harrison has set this paper, and I'm gonna fail it."

"You're not gonna fail."

"Charlie, I didn't even know Juliet dies until you told me!"

"Well," Charlie said, "Romeo dies too."

"What kind of a love story is that ?" I slumped into a chair.

"It's not a love story," Charlie said. "It's a tragedy."

"What's a tragedy is me failing this assignment. Help? Please?" I put my hands together in a praying motion.

He rolled his eyes. "My tutoring rates are twenty dollars per hour, and you're lucky, because I only have room for one more client."

"Sold!" I almost cried in relief. With Charlie tutoring me, there was no way I would fail. Also, a couple of hours a week of alone time with the only guy I'd ever kissed and was still crazy about? Okay, it would probably be torture since he hadn't mentioned our kiss or shown any sign of wanting to do it again, but I'd still enjoy being around him, the same way I walked past the bakery near campus sometimes just so I could inhale the scent of fresh pie and remember what it had been like to bite into a mouthful of sugary, fruit-filled warm pastry.

My stomach growled, and Charlie dug in his bag and tossed me a banana.

It wasn't pie, but I took it, grateful for the snack. I peeled it and shoved the end in my mouth, and when I glanced over, Charlie was watching, his cheeks flushed pink and his mouth hanging slightly open.

Weird.

He cleared his throat and ducked his head, fiddling with the straps on his backpack, and said, "So, two hours a week?"

"Done," I said without hesitation. Did I have two spare hours a week? Doubtful. Was I going to find two hours a week so I could pass this assignment?

Damn straight. I'd just cut back on some of my other leisure time activities, like… laundry. And non-study related human interaction.

Sleep was overrated, right?

Charlie must have read something on my face because he gave me a wry smile. "Don't worry. We'll work around your schedule."

"Thanks," I said, and his smile widened. He really was cute.

The rest of the group had started to drift in, and Nash sat beside me, nudging me with his elbow. "Hey."

"Hey."

He pulled out his notebooks and a couple of protein bars, passing me one. "Hey, you wanna go throw a ball later?"

It was tempting. It was a nice evening, that sort of still and balmy atmosphere where it felt good to stand out in the night air. It had been over a week since I'd had the chance to pull on my glove, and I was having withdrawals, so Nash was probably in the same boat. "Yeah, why not?"

He flashed me a wide smile, like I was doing him the world's biggest favor.

Awa dropped into the chair beside us, and the first words out of her mouth were, "I'm going to fail this paper."

When someone said that—and it happened a lot in study group—usually it was just them being stressed and dramatic. But Awa wasn't being dramatic. Her shoulders were hunched over, and she looked like she was going to cry.

I shoved a protein bar toward her, but it probably didn't help.

"Hey, Awa," Charlie said, like the stress-seeking missile he was with this group. It was funny. When I'd met him, he'd been nervous and almost as tongue-tied as me, but here? In this room, in his element, Charlie was a boss. He sat down beside Awa. "You okay?"

"Yes," she said, but it was obviously a lie. "Charlie, I really need help. Can you tutor me? My aunt sent me the money."

"Oh." Charlie's face fell. "Oh, I'm really sorry, Awa, but I don't have any spots left."

"Okay," she said in a small voice and brought her hand up to her face so she could sniffle into her sleeve.

And then Amity and Lacey arrived with dips and snacks, and I looked away so I didn't make Awa feel worse if she caught me staring.

Study group wasn't fun tonight.

Afterward, when everyone was chatting and slowly starting to clear out, I sidled over to Charlie. "Hey."

"Hey."

"So, I was thinking," I said, even though I wasn't, and I was just sort of running on pure vibes right now, "I'm gonna have to pull out of tutoring."

"Oh." He blinked at me. "Why?"

"Um." I should have known there would be follow-up questions. "I don't have the money?" It came out more like a question than I wanted, so I tried it again. "I don't have the money."

"Oh," Charlie said .

"Yeah," I said. "My ass is totally broke right now. So, um, I guess I'll just... not get that tutoring."

Charlie tilted his head, a bit like a dog did when it didn't understand why you were offering it a tablet instead of a piece of kibble. "Okay."

"Okay, um, yeah, okay. Bye." I didn't know why I tried to walk backward to the door, but I knocked a stack of books off a desk with my ass. "Bye."

I turned around and bolted for the door.

There wasn't a lot of traffic on Fraternity Row at ten p.m. on a Monday night, and the lighting was good. I went back to Kappa Beta Rho long enough to grab my glove and a ball, and then I met Nash back outside. We shot the shit for a while beside a big orange truck parked on the side of the road, then put some distance between us so we could throw the ball back and forth.

We didn't talk; we didn't need to. There was just something familiar about the thock of a ball hitting my glove in the same way it had since I was five years old that made me think of grass and clay and the Capri Suns my Little League coach must have bought in bulk. It settled something inside me and reminded me why I was doing all this again.

I lobbed the ball to Nash, but it went wide, rolling into the gutter. A guy in a Hawaiian shirt who was walking his dog—the same guy who'd chased me out of Alpha Tau—stopped, bent down, scooped it up, and threw it back at me with unwarranted force. Then he did that thing where he pointed two fingers at me, then back at himself, then back at me to indicate he was watching me. "If you fuck with my car again, I will end you," he said, scowling.

"We haven't touched any cars, bro," I said.

"I'm not your fucking bro, bro ," the guy said.

He was wearing sunglasses on his head, even though it was ten p.m. That seemed just as ridiculous as the rest of this conversation.

"Okay," Nash said. "It's cool, okay? We're all cool."

The guy glared at me again and stalked off toward Alpha Tau with his dog beside him.

"The fuck was that about?" Nash asked and, with a sinking feeling in my gut, I explained about the whole jello incident. Nash's jaw dropped. "Holy shit, bro. That's fucking hilarious !"

"Not from where I'm standing."

Nash made a seesawing motion with the hand not encased in his catcher's mitt. "It kind of is."

I threw the ball at him in response.

He caught it easily. "So, do you think Charlie's going to be impressed at how self-sacrificing you were tonight in study group?" he asked with a teasing grin.

My face heated up. "It wasn't for that. I like Awa."

"Yeah, she's cool," Nash said. "Crazy that there's anyone finding Shakespeare harder than we are."

"Awa's super smart, bro," I said. "She's doing college on the highest difficulty setting, which is why it's so hard. We're just dumbasses."

"I guess." Nash threw the ball back to me. It was an easy, lazy throw, and it made for an easy, lazy catch. "Fuck, I can barely handle college in English."

"Right?"

I swallowed a yawn and tossed the ball back to Nash. I caught a slight movement from the corner of my eye, and when I glanced over I saw the guy in the Hawaiian shirt sitting on the porch swing at Alpha Tau, swinging back and forth as he watched us. He did the pointing thing again, and even from across the street, I could feel the weight of his glare. I rolled my shoulders and stretched. "We should call it a night before that guy gets campus security on us."

Nash nodded in agreement, and we fist-bumped before heading to our respective houses .

I went and showered, and when I got back to my room, there was a message on my phone from Charlie.

I know what you did.

My instinctive reaction was a stab of guilt before I remembered I hadn't done anything wrong. My phone pinged again.

Pulling out of tutoring for Awa, I mean.

Of course he'd figured it out. It wouldn't have taken much for a smart guy like Charlie to connect those dots. Plus, my act had hardly been convincing. I couldn't lie to save myself—apart from that whole "pretending to be straight for eighteen years" thing. Which hadn't been a lie so much as playing a super long RPG.

She needs your help. It was no big deal.

Okay, so maybe I could lie, because I didn't know how I was going to pass this assignment without Charlie's help.

My phone chimed, and I wondered if Charlie was a mind reader because his text said:

It is a big deal. You need me to pass.

It could have come off as cocky, except this was Charlie. He was just stating a fact. I was still figuring out a reply that wasn't "no shit" when my screen lit up.

We can still work something out if you want. Send me your insane sportsball schedule, and I'll see what I can do.

I blinked at the screen, and warmth flooded me. Charlie had just as many assignments as anyone else, plus he'd told me he was on an academic scholarship, so it wasn't like he could afford for his own grades to slip. But here he was, going out of his way to make sure my dumb ass didn't fail English Lit.

You know the sport I play is called baseball right?

OMG! Yes, I know! It's a joke, Tanner!

So was that, Charlie.

The dots appeared and vanished on my screen a few times, and in the end, he just sent back a row of laugh-crying emojis.

I sent Charlie a link to the calendar app that, alongside my meal and exercise tracker, was basically ruling my life at this point.

He sent back a row of wide eyed emojis and followed it with:

When do you have fun?

I might need more tutoring than I thought. I've forgotten what that word means.

My window overlooked the front of the house and Fraternity Row. With my nose pressed against the glass and my head turned, I could see the corner of the Alpha Tau house. I wondered if Charlie was looking out his window at me right now.

Over the summer, Charlie had felt like the biggest missed opportunity of my life. It was unbelievably lucky that I'd met him again and crazy that we were texting, but somehow it was even more frustrating now than it had been when I thought I'd never see him again. He was there , just across the street! Why weren't we kissing again right this second?

I'd thought the kiss was amazing, but maybe Charlie hadn't? It wasn't as though I had any other experience with kissing guys to compare it to. Did Charlie? Had I failed to make the grade? A part of me wanted to ask. Another part of me, which was much louder, told me very sternly not to be a fucking idiot. No good could come of asking a question like that. No good at all.

It didn't stop me from wondering though.

I ditched my towel and pulled on a pair of sweats and a tank top and wandered downstairs. There was music playing, and stray bursts of laughter drifted out of the main lounge along with the occasional loud cheer. I headed straight for the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water to take to my room. I was too tired to get dragged into whatever the rest of the guys had going on. I had a hot date with some noise-canceling headphones.

When I closed the refrigerator and turned, Ethan right was there behind me. I let out an embarrassing squeak, and Ethan grinned.

Ethan was my roommate. He was a big, burly blond guy, and he was a dick—and not the fun kind that I liked.

I was pretty sure he'd crept up on me just to get a reaction, that was the type of dick he was. I did my best to spend as little time with him as possible, and failing that, I tried to stay on his good side. He just seemed like the kind of guy who'd turn everything into a huge issue, you know? Like if he had a problem with you, he was gonna make it your problem.

He stared down at me, still grinning. "Hey, Tanner."

"Hey, Ethan."

"We're doing shots. You in?"

I lifted my water bottle. "I wish, but I can't. Early session at the gym."

For a second there, it looked like he was going to push the point, but then Bart stuck his head in the kitchen. " Oh hey, Tanner!"

"Hey, Bart."

"You doing shots?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Can't. Coach would gut me and use my stretched-out intestines for a baseline."

He tilted his head like he was imagining it for a second, then nodded. "Fair. Ethan, hurry up with the chips."

Ethan rolled his eyes and reached into the overhead cabinets and grabbed a couple of bags. "See you round," he said as he left.

Another round of cheering came from the living room, and for a split second I was almost tempted to say "fuck it" and join them.

I didn't though. My study/training/life balance was a tightrope right now, and it felt like if I lost that balance, it would be more work to recover than one night of doing shots was worth. So I took my water and went up to my room, put on my headphones, and reminded myself that in three, five, or ten years' time, this would all be worth it. I just had to get through college first.

And maybe, with Charlie's help, it wouldn't be as tough as it seemed right now.