The locker room starts to clear out, bringing me closer to the moment I’d been so looking forward to. All week I’d been picturing Cory waiting for me after the game. But that wasn’t going to be happening. She wasn’t even here.
Confronting Liv today had been rough. I didn’t want to hurt her, but at the same time, Cory is my number one priority. As I think back to her reasons, I cringe. Why does life have to be so damn complicated?
I’m ripped out of my thoughts when a towel hits me in the face. “Snap out of it, Edwards,” our captain says with another towel locked and loaded, ready to throw. “You had a bad game; we all get them. Make sure you excel in the next one.”
If I can sort this shit out, I know the next game will be fine. I just have to get through the post-game celebrations, and then I can talk to Cory tomorrow.
I’m officially over the party a few hours in. I’d tossed Dylan my room keys a little while ago, so I can’t even hide out there. Though, if I had my time over, I’d still give them to him. He’s definitely going through something, and after seeing him with his ex, I knew he needed the break more than I did.
When I’m finally ready to call it a night, I check on Dylan before I decide how to sneak away. I find him looking even worse than before, completely uninterested in my company, but an idea comes to mind.
Finding a quiet spot, I call Summer, praying that she’s awake. She answers on the third ring, and I sigh in relief until she speaks. “Why didn’t Cory go to your game? Are you the reason she’s cleaning the apartment?”
Shit! Not even a hello. I should be thankful that Cory obviously hasn’t told her what happened, but I’m more concerned about the fact that Cory needs someone right now, and after ten missed calls and an uncountable number of messages, I’ve realized that someone isn’t me.
I clear my throat, ignoring Summer’s questions. I need to work things out with Cory, without Summer’s wrath. “I’m actually calling about Dylan.”
“Dylan?” Her voice rises in intrigue. I’m telling you, those two need to get their shit sorted.
“Yeah. Something’s going on with him, and he could use a friend.”
She scoffs, and the phone crackles, like she’s moving around the room, holding the phone with one hand.
“You’re a friend,” she states plainly, not making this easy on me. She’s not wrong either. Maybe saying he needed a friend was too general.
“He needs you, Summer. You.” I could tell just looking at him he needed her. I don’t know how, but I knew.
She’s silent for a moment and then sighs. “Ugh! Okay, of course, I’ll go. But you need to come here and fix whatever you did.”
“I’m already on my way,” I say as I walk to my car, determined to get Cory to hear me out.