Chapter One

Theo

College is hard as shit.

I toss a football in the air and catch it, while lying on my bed.

Not for the first time, I wonder why in the hell I ever thought higher education is a good idea. This summer has been nice, and now I'm only two days away from the first day of classes at Franklin U, and I'm reminded that college is a lot of work. Typically, I don't mind hard work. I'm not lazy. But school assignments that are easy for most people are more difficult for me.

The idea of jumping back into that rat race feels exhausting. I'm not one of those naturally smart people, which is really fucking inconvenient because I don't hate college and I want to be here—well, okay, let me rephrase that. I love the social part of college. I love the parties and hanging out with my boys. I like my girl and all the fun we got up to together last year, though lately things have been…off between us. Before she left for the summer, she'd get annoyed with everything I did, and honestly, the feeling was mutual. Her ragging on me has been a lot, but I've been with her for almost two years. I can't break up with her. I don't want to hurt her, so even though she's been calling me less and less the past couple of months, and when we do talk, we always fight, I'm going to find a way to fix things. I must be doing something wrong. That's usually the case.

And, like, she's a ten, and while I'm happy with how I look, I'm probably a solid six at best. There's no way I can land another Whitney.

Whit gets back to San Luco today, and I have the whole night planned. I'm going to pick her up, take her out to dinner, bring her favorite flowers and all that sweet shit I'm actually pretty fucking good at. I might only be a six, but I'm also a damn catch when it comes to how I treat a woman.

And then…then I'll worry about school. I have to do better about staying on track from the start. It's my third year, and there's a lot of pressure on me to get this business degree. Well, any degree. I chose business because I didn't know what else to pick. It's not particularly exciting, but I don't dislike it either. And I'll be the first Bassett to ever graduate from college. My parents want that so much for me and have busted their asses to help make it happen.

Footsteps pound down the hallway before something slams into my door and it tumbles open. Avery and Casey stumble inside. Neither is local to SoCal like me, so they're just getting back for the new year.

"Come in, why don't you?" I tell my roommates.

There are four of us who live in this house. Our last roommate is Jack. His dad and stepdad own our house and let the four of us live in it for cheap. If it wasn't for the deal they gave us, no way I could afford my part of rent on a house like this, even with three other people.

"What's up, man?" Avery says as I toss him the ball. Casey jumps in front of him and catches it first. The two of them are competitive about everything. I'm sure they were racing to see who could get to my room first.

"Hey," I reply, sitting up.

Casey falls onto the bed and lies beside me. "It's so fucking good to be back." He's one of the smartest idiots I know—as in, Case is book smart and doesn't even have to try to get straight As in every class, but he also doesn't have the best common sense and is friends with us, so that knocks him down a few points. Avery plays football. Everyone wants to bone him—girls and guys—but as far as I know, he's straight.

But what I've noticed is all of them seem to be good at something, except me. Jack is queer and heads all sorts of queer activities on campus. He's going to be a civil rights lawyer and probably change the world. Sometimes I wonder why he's friends with us, but Jack is cool like that. And as I mentioned, Casey is hella smart and Avery has football.

And then there's me: mediocre at everything I do. Not terrible at most things, but not great either. I'm just…eh, all right.

Jack comes in then too, and leans against the doorjamb.

"I missed your dumb ass," I tease him. The two of us have been here all summer, while Casey and Avery had gone back home. I'm from Victorville, in the high desert, so it's only a couple of hours away.

"I want to get laid," Avery says. "We should throw a party tonight."

"What? No. Fuck that. I have plans with Whit." Is it even a party if I'm not there? I don't think it is.

"Bring her," Jack says.

"Do you know her?" Casey replies, making a face that says he's hoping she doesn't go.

"Be nice, fucker," I tell him. My friends aren't the biggest fans of my girl, and she wishes each and every one of them would die a fiery death. It's a whole-ass thing. I try to stay neutral, but it doesn't always work that way. "We need a little more time to plan and get people here. Let's do the party tomorrow night." I say a silent prayer that this strategy will work. I have no doubt if we announce a party at our place tonight, people will show, but maybe I can talk them into believing we need more time to plan. "I mean, almost everyone did just get back today."

"True," Avery replies.

Fuck yes. Score for me.

"Plus, some people might not get back to campus until tomorrow morning," I add, trying to push my agenda even more. The thing is, I'd rather be at a party tonight than with Whit, which probably makes me the worst boyfriend of all time and not a very good person either, but I just want to have fun and not feel like I'm fucking up, which is what she always makes me feel. I try to do everything right but still end up screwing stuff up. I'm a bit of a disaster.

"Okay, party tomorrow night," Jack says.

We end up in the living room, playing video games and making plans for the next day. I leave them early to go shower and get ready for my plans with Whitney. Even though I want to hang with my boys, I would have ditched the party if they'd had it tonight.

I wear a polo with my jeans, trying to look nice, then head over to San Luco Flowers to get roses for her. They're her favorite. While I can't really afford them, I like to do nice things for people. It makes me feel good.

Whitney lives in a sorority house. When I knock, one of her friends answers and lets me in. Whit is upstairs, getting ready, and the four women in the room downstairs are all quiet and looking at me funny.

"Do I have something on my face? In my teeth?" I ask, trying to get a laugh. "I know my shirt's not on backward since I wore the annoying collared one." I hate collars. And polos. I only wear them because she likes them.

"You're so silly, Theo," Cindy tells me. "You're always good for a laugh."

I mean, it's not a bad compliment. I like to be funny, but I also hope I have a little more going for me than just that.

Before I have the chance to say anything else, Whitney comes downstairs. She's beautiful, with long, blonde hair, a little button nose, and a sinful mouth. I have to admit there's a little jump in my pulse at seeing her, and not just because of her looks. Whit and I used to have fun together, and I'd like to figure out how to get back there.

"Hey. I missed you." I walk over and give her a hug. She returns it and takes the flowers.

"Thanks, Theo."

She hands them to Cindy, and I feel a small stab of disappointment, unsure if I have the right to feel it or not. What does it matter if she is the one to put them in a vase or if her friend does it for her? I'm being ridiculous.

I take her hand as we head for the door, trying to be sweet and attentive, but she just gives me one squeeze and pulls away.

Okay, no hand-holding tonight. Got it.

I open the door for her because I'm a fucking gentleman, and then do the same with my shitty car. The door squeaks and I wince, not that it should matter. I'm broke, and that's just the way it is.

"Tell me about your summer," I say as I start driving to the restaurant. We spoke, of course, but I want to hear it all from her in person.

Whitney begins talking about all the fun things she did and the trips she took and all her friends back home. Even Cindy went to see her, though they don't live in the same state.

I wonder why she didn't ask me to do that with her. It would have been tough to make it happen due to lack of funds, but I would have tried. Maybe if we'd gotten some quality time together this summer, things wouldn't feel as strained between us right now.

She talks the whole way to the Italian restaurant, which is her favorite. I wait for her to mention it, but she doesn't. Am I supposed to want her to acknowledge where I brought her? I don't fucking know. Two years in, and dating is still hard.

Whitney waits for me to go around and open the door for her. She's all about girl power but also likes when I do things like that for her.

I try to take her hand again, but she doesn't let me, which makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I try to ignore it. Things are fine. We just have to adjust to being together again after summer break.

"Reservation for Theo Bassett," I tell the hostess, and she leads us to a table in the corner. I pull the chair out for her because I'm chivalrous as fuck, smiling proudly at myself. Goddamn, I'm a good boyfriend.

"I missed you," I tell her again. And I did. That's not just a line. Sure, things are awkward, but she's my girl.

"You're so cute, Theo." She grins.

"So I've heard." I wink, being playful.

We order our food, and Whit tells me all her plans for the year, talks to me about her sorority sisters, and on and on. She can really talk when she wants to, and I try to be a good listener, but occasionally, my eyes start to feel heavy.

"Oh my God. You're falling asleep while I'm talking!" Whitney snaps, and I jerk my head up.

"No I'm not." I definitely was. Damn it.

"Whatever, Theo."

"I'm sorry." This isn't going as planned, but luckily, the waiter comes over with our food, so the subject changes.

I do my best to be attentive as we eat, asking her tons of questions and listening to all her answers. After I pay, we walk to an ice cream parlor, where I buy us each a cone while trying not to stress about money.

When we pull up at Whitney's house, I turn off the car and unclick my seat belt.

Whitney puts her hand on mine. "We need to talk, Theo."

My stomach twists. Was there one example, ever, in the history of the world, where a good sentence began with the words we need to talk? I might not be a stats kinda guy, but my money is on no.

"Okay…" I drag out the word as if that will change anything.

"I don't think this is working."

"This, as in…" Again, I let the words hang as if I don't know exactly what she's talking about.

"Us. Me and you. I've known for a while, but…"

"But you couldn't tell me before I blew almost two hundred dollars on dinner, flowers, and shit."

"Theo!"

"What? It's true." I shrug. I'm not trying to be a dick, but she could have let me in on that fact before I spent the day trying to be the perfect boyfriend—and nailing it, I might add. Well, except for the almost falling asleep while she spoke.

"This is exactly the reason why. You don't really care about me. You were falling asleep on me."

"Maybe because all the conversations are about you?" I venture. Had she asked me one single question? Did she ever? I didn't mind, not really, but can she really blame me for dozing off?

"Whatever. I should have known you wouldn't get it. We're too different. I thought we could make this work, but I can't keep letting you hold me back."

Hold her back? How in the fuck have I been doing that? "Um…what?"

"You don't know who you are. Or what you want. You have no direction. Do you even want to be with me, or do you stay because it's easy and you don't want to upset anyone?"

Her words feel like a slap in the face, not because they're wrong, but because they're right. Whitney might have totally fucked up in her breakup delivery, but I can't say she's wrong.

I don't want to be with her. I haven't for a while. I hated tonight. I hate this stupid collared shirt, and I…have no idea what I want. I just go along with everything.

"I know who I am," I lie.

"Who?" she asks, and I just stare at her, unsure how to answer. Holy fuck. This sucks. Why couldn't she have kept pretending with me?

"Maybe I could have found a better way to do this, and maybe I should have told you before we went out tonight, but you know I'm right, Theo. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Without another word, Whit gets out of the car and walks away, while I sit in her driveway, trying to figure out what in the hell just happened.