Spiked

I realized just as Jacob was taking the fourth step that this might very well be exactly what Adams wanted, giving a toast like that. With Jacob out of the way permanently, he’d be the new Harton hero. He’d lead the team. He’d be the king.

I stepped forward, abandoning my drink to go to him, unsure what I would do or say when I got there but certain I was the only thing that stood between him and disaster. Adams was still pouring Jack Daniels into his mouth, but Jacob was getting closer—

Jenna was there. It was incredible, really, how she appeared— like some kind of petite little sporty fairy, sparkling in at the last instant. I was too far away to hear what was said, but Jacob looked down at Jenna and his expression softened. Jenna’s fingers drifted up his injured arm, and then easily, gently, she took his hand in hers and swept him out of the room with a coy smile. Where were they going? I wanted to know. For an instant, I HAD to know, and was a breath away from running to the door and watching where their silhouetted forms went.

But what if she was leading him to the garden? Or what if he was taking her to his apartment? Or the alumni resort? Or any of the half dozen places I’d given myself to Jacob over and over again?

I’ve got no right to be mad— I’ve never talked with him about exclusivity, I reminded myself.

But Jacob having sex with Jenna— with someone he had a history with, with someone the whole school thought he was meant to be with— that was what horrified me. It meant that I, Sasha, was just another partner. Another body to warm his bed in-between on-agains with Jenna.

It meant that despite the frequency of our sex, I was still, at my core, just another one-night stand.

14

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Jacob. In fact, that was more or less all I wanted to do. I wanted to see him, touch him, let him undress me, sleep next to him, wake to him in the morning. It was all I thought about, truth be told— but I knew I needed a break. I needed a week or two to reassess, to parse Jenna and Jacob, and myself and Jacob, and the entire Harton football community and myself and Jacob and…myself.

More than anything, I needed to reassess my direction in life. I was at Harton to get an education, and I’d forgotten that somehow, in the midst of all this. I was giving everything— physically and mentally— to Jacob now, and that wasn’t okay.

It was easy enough to avoid him for the first week; I avoided his calls, sent him back “talk later” texts, and changed up my schedule so he couldn’t surprise me on the way to or from class. I figured Piper and Kiersten would be no help, so took to studying in the library rather than at home, which turned out to be lovely. The Harton library was a brand new building with soaring ceilings, enormous chairs, private study rooms and an insane number of books. It was like a West Elm version of the library in Beauty and the Beast.

Almost a week and a half after the Football House party, I was nestled in an armchair in the historical anthropology section, making notes in the margins of my textbook, when Jacob appeared.

I didn’t even see him, at first, but rather, felt his presence. Jacob had the ability to absorb all the energy in the room; I resisted looking up as long as possible when I felt his pull, but finally gave in. He was standing at the end of a row of books, his eyebrows lifted, his arm muscles straining at a gray Harton t-shirt.

Being close to so many books made him even sexier, a fact which infuriated and aroused me at once.

“You’re avoiding me,” Jacob said. He didn’t whisper, location be damned, and I saw someone a few chairs down lift her eyes curiously.

Jacob walked toward me, then sat down in the armchair adjacent. He dwarfed it, and his legs were so long his knees were bent up awkwardly in the air, like an adult sitting on a child’s piece of furniture.

“I am,” I whispered back, closing my textbook gently.

“Did I do something stupid?” Jacob asked.

“No. I just feel like…” I took a big, sweeping breath, and allowed Jacob to capture my eyes with his. I wondered if anyone ever gained immunity to his gaze.

Which made me instantly wonder if Jenna was immune.

“I was at that party at Football House the other night,” I began slowly.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Jacob said.

“The one where Adams gave that stupid speech after having sex with my roommate. And Jenna what’s-her-face was there, the soccer player?”