1. Fallon

“You’re moping,” Lexie accuses from where she sits across from me on the matching loveseat. The new streaks of purple peeking out from her dark hair catch my attention for a second longer. Just yesterday, the underside of her hair had been an icy-blue shade.

“I’m not.” The edge of defensiveness laces my tone and has my cousin, who happens to be my roommate, grinning—because I am. I just hate either of us acknowledging it.

“You haven’t left the couch in two days.”

“We went shopping yesterday.”

She rolls her eyes. “The grocery store doesn’t count. You aren’t still feeling guilty about transferring, are you?”

I bury my face in a throw pillow, unable to deny that blame has me sulking and overthinking entirely too much.

“They’ll forgive you, Fallon.” Lexie’s voice is gentle as she confiscates my fluffy shield, so I have to meet her blue gaze as she sits beside me.

I shake my head and release a tired sigh. A month ago I was offered what most would consider an extraordinary opportunity, one I couldn’t refuse: a dual scholarship for both academics and soccer to Camden University that had me transferring just thirty miles away from Westfield University after completing my sophomore year. My excitement to play for one of the most esteemed coaches in the country and have a safety net to graduate even if injury prevents me from playing was only second to my joy at attending the same university as Lexie, who is a year older than me.

I knew my teammates at Westfield would be hurt, but I gravely underestimated the hatred they’ve directed toward me since the news broke.

“I’m going to be playing against them,” I remind Lexie, rubbing a hand over my forehead as guilt invades more of my thoughts.

“You worked your ass off for Westfield for two years. They’re just jealous.” She says with so much enthusiasm, I’m inclined to believe her—want to believe her. Maybe then my conscience would feel clearer.

“And Tobias?” I raise my eyebrows and pretend I’m not on a fishing expedition, needing Lexie to form an entire life raft around my drowning mood and thoughts.

Lexie shakes her head. “Tobias didn’t deserve your time then; he certainly doesn’t deserve it now.”

I dated Tobias Davies for a year and a half before our relationship met its slow and messy demise. He had initially tried to end things amicably, insisting he didn’t want to get his heart broken and that I was the one girl capable of doing so—that I was too good for him. Shocked, bewildered, and heartbroken, I made pledges and promises to save our relationship, only for him to change his tune and claim that the time commitment of our dating was suffocating him. As a starting defensive lineman for Westfield’s football team, our schedules conflicted more often than they aligned. Insistent and naive, I sacrificed in an attempt to patch our sinking relationship, skipping classes and sleep to prove we could overcome our challenging calendars, convinced he was the guy who would finish my sentences and sandwiches.

But Tobias wasn’t struggling with exhaustion or juggling obligations, and he certainly wasn’t worried about me potentially breaking his heart. No, he was busy imagining what sexual position he wanted to try with every fan girl that slipped him their number.

It’s been six and a half months since someone did me the harsh favor of sharing Tobias’s nefarious acts.

I’m over it. Over him.

Mostly.

“With you being an Aries and Tobias being a Pisces, I’m amazed you two lasted as long as you did. He’s the least compatible sign for you. Besides, he was right. You’re way too good for him.” Lexie has always had an affinity for astrology, believing the stars and universe have everything mapped out for us.

She elbows me when I don’t respond.

Discussing Tobias several months ago promised tears. Now, the memory of him only tickles my annoyance and distracts me from the onslaught of emotions toward my now ex-teammates and friends.

“This isn’t actually about Tobias, is it?” she asks knowingly.

I focus on Lexie’s dark blue eyes as she reads my obvious duress. Her straight nose, pillowy lips, and high cheekbones are as familiar to me as my own reflection. We’re more than family; we’re best friends. “One of my old teammates posted a picture of the team working out, and I made the mistake of commenting with a stupid heart emoji.”

Lexie winces. “What happened?”

“After she called me a traitor and insulted me ten different ways, a dozen strangers joined the thread and shared their opinions about how I’m the scum of the Earth. Most of them unfriended me, including the original poster.”

“I will cut a bitch. Who was it?”

I sigh. “Do you remember Chrissy Boyd?”

Lexie shakes her head. “Did I like her?”

“No.”

Lexie offers a tight smile as she leans closer and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You should really listen to me more often.”

I scoff.

She chuckles as her grip tightens. “You’ve done nothing but grieve and apologize since accepting Camden’s offer when you deserve to be celebrating. This is the opportunity you worked your ass off for, Fal. Don’t let them steal your joy.”

“I just hate the way things ended. They were more than just my teammates. They were my friends. My closest friends aside from you.”

Or I thought they were.

Lexie scoots closer. “I know, but you have to remember that you’re not doing anything wrong. They are by making this personal and not supporting you.” She sighs. “Instead of giving them more energy, let’s try and come up with an excuse to get us out of attending Adelaide’s bridal shower slash bachelorette party this weekend.”

The trip is high on my ‘dread’ list, but I haven’t wanted to mention it, knowing my feelings are a fraction of Lexie’s. “You aren’t looking forward to the mandatory wide-brimmed hats?” I ask, feigning surprise.

“I swear she thinks she’s a monarch or a princess,” Lexie says. “Did you see her post?”

I rarely voice my thoughts about Adelaide to Lexie because she has a difficult time getting along with her older sister, but I know the post she’s referring to without asking. It’s a picture of her new engagement ring, a two-carat canary diamond surrounded by a crown of white diamonds that braid around the band and the caption, ‘How could I say no?’.

“She’s only marrying him for his money,” Lexie says.

We don’t use Asher’s name, largely because he’s Tobias’s older brother. Adelaide met him when I invited Tobias and his family over for the Fourth of July at my mom’s insistence. It felt like kismet when Asher showed interest in Adelaide, and the excitement of weaving our families together had me missing all the red flags that Adelaide wasn’t the only one who fell for Asher’s looks and charm.

I swallow the bitter dregs of my heartache that the memory stirs awake and sit up to place a hand on Lexie’s shoulder. I’m nearly convinced she’s over him, but there are moments like now when her gaze goes unfocused that I worry she has a similar hole in her chest to the one Tobias left in mine.

The Davies brothers are clearly lethal to our genetic makeup.

“Maybe our room at the rental house will have a mysterious noise or the vents won’t work, and we’ll need to get our own place to stay. We should start looking at nearby motels,” I suggest.

Lexie rolls her eyes. “Like Adelaide would allow that.”

“There are so many people going, we’ll probably end up sleeping on the floor. I doubt she’ll care.”

“Did I forget to show you the house?” she asks, reaching for her phone. “If it can even be called a house. The place is like a freaking fortress. It has over eighty suites.”

I nearly fall off the couch. “Eighty?”

She nods. “Asher told her to get whatever she wanted, and you know Adelaide—only the best.”

“Well, shit. Forget the motel. I have a better plan: let’s pretend we’re sick and stay in our room all week. Mini spa, here we come.”

She offers a weak smile and turns her phone to show me pictures of the rental. She’s right. In no way should it be labeled a house. It’s massive and opulent with entire walls of windows that look out onto the Atlantic. “I’ve seen hotels that are smaller.”

Lexie nods, a solemness in her gaze that is present anytime anything related to the upcoming nuptials is brought up, that has my chest aching in an entirely different way than how it does when thinking of Tobias.

I bump her knee with mine. “But we’ll be right on the beach! Forget pretending to be sick. There are only two planned bridal shower activities. We can spend the rest of our time in a blissful state of being complete and total beach… bunnies.”

“Bunnies?”

“Bums is offensive.”

She chuckles. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to wear a pair of bunny ears. Do bunnies even live at the beach?”

“I didn’t want to say crabs. That seems like a terrible omen after the year I’ve had.”

Lexie laughs out loud.

I clutch onto that look of happiness with white knuckles, determined for us to have a fun weekend and not worry about starting soccer with a new team, the new campus I’ll have to learn, or the new major I plan to declare. I don’t want to think about how I only have two seasons left to play soccer, that my old group of friends are now my adversaries, or even about Tobias having zero regrets about cheating on me. I shove all the unwanted feelings from my thoughts down the halls of our apartment and straight into the busy streets of Oleander Springs, North Carolina.

“We’re going to take advantage of the next three weeks we have together without school or practices, and we’re going to kick it off at the beach. You and me.”

“I’m going to miss you living here,” she says with a sigh.

I glance from her to the apartment we’ve shared for the past two years, and that sail I was attempting to open alights with flames. Westfield didn’t have athlete dorms, allowing Lexie and me to live together in this apartment where we’re nearly halfway between the rival schools. Camden, however, requires all student-athletes to live on campus in the athlete dorm. My assigned room is already waiting for me, the key already in my purse.

“We aren’t going to think about that, either,” I tell her. “We’re going to make this the best summer ever.”

She gives me a wayward glance. “You mean between your hours of working and daily workouts?”

I haven’t gone to the gym or worked out in three days, adding to the dam of guilt building in my chest, but when I do go, I’m home before Lexie wakes up. As for working, I don’t have a solid excuse. I started a graphic design business during my senior year of high school, hoping to practice my love of graphic design and possibly save up enough to buy a prom dress. To my utter surprise, I was able to afford a dress after the first month. Over the past three years, I’ve curated a faithful group of clients and a six-month waitlist. “Block scheduling, baby.”

Lexie rolls her eyes. “Maybe we can meet some hot guys at the beach. It seems like fate owes us that favor.”

Despite wanting to object and remind her I’m not sticking a toe into the dating pool again until hell freezes over or cows fly, I nod because her wanting to flirt and hang out with a cute boy might be exactly what she needs while her sister celebrates marrying the guy she’s been crushing on for too long. “Absolutely.”