I pointed to the Double Ds. “You have your own blessings. Don’t cut yourself short.” Not to mention, she was gorgeous.

“Yeah. Those.” She gazed down. “If anyone tells you big breasts are the way to go, they’re an idiot. I want to do a reduction.”

“Really?”

“Casey thinks I’m nuts, but she doesn’t understand. She’s tiny and compact. Guys love her body.”

I frowned. “If you didn’t have a serious boyfriend, you’d find out how many guys love your body. Trust me.” Since she brought up the C word, I prompted, “Tell me about the fight.”

“The fight.” She let out a breath of air and then started.

Casey had been withdrawing a little more each day. Sarah and Laura hadn’t been happy about it all week. Kristina wasn’t sure what started it, but Casey said something. Laura and Sarah weren’t having it. They said something back. It was Casey’s turn. Then theirs. They were going back and forth, and as Kristina was curled up on their couch with her social work textbook on her lap, an entire fight ensued.

Laura and Sarah wanted to know what was up with Casey.

She refused to say.

This enraged them further. It was time to double down, so they bluffed. She had to tell them or they weren’t going to drink together at Rugger’s (another name I didn’t know). Casey got so mad she stormed out of the room, but came back in, grabbed her backpack, purse, and her phone. Her second storming out was the real deal. Kristina hasn’t heard from her all night, except one text to let her know that Casey was sleeping somewhere else, and that’d been it.

Laura and Sarah went to their room, and Kristina only saw them in the bathroom.

She was saying, “I mean, I can kind of see Laura and Sarah’s point. Casey has been different. She doesn’t pick up after herself, and she’s been snappy. She’s herself sometimes, but other times, it’s like she pulls into herself and puts up a wall. Have you noticed anything?”

A chicken strip caught in my throat. I gulped it down, wincing at the pain. “What?”

“You’ve been hanging out with her more lately. Have you noticed anything?”

“She wore a sweatshirt to the football game. That isn’t normal.”

“Yeah. See. Things like that. They just don’t add up. It’s almost like she’s becoming a new person.” She finished her milk and stabbed at some lettuce with her fork. “Can I talk to you about something else?”

Her tone went serious. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I thought the fight had been the sobering topic. I was wrong. “Sure. What is it?”

Shay . . .

Where I slept last night . . .

How I’d been “off” lately . . .

Those three things and so many others flashed in my head, but she said, “I think Casey likes your brother.”

Another floodgate of relief.

I waved my hand in the air. “I know.”

Her mouth opened slightly. “You know?”

“Uh.” I grabbed the last chicken strip but began pulling it apart into little pieces instead of eating it. “Gage asked me about Casey a while back. I’m not really surprised.”

“You’re not joking?”

“No. Why?”

Her eyebrows dipped together. “I can’t tell. Sometimes you’re sarcastic. For real, though? You knew?”

“I guessed. I saw him sitting with you guys at the game.”

“Is that why you didn’t come over?”

Kristina had been my first friend at Dulane, but she didn’t know my rules. I nodded.

“I wondered why you didn’t sit with us. I mean, we saw you at the game, but I was kind of hurt. I thought you didn’t like us anymore.”

My eyes shot to hers, and the second chicken strip dropped from my hands. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” She stabbed at more of her lettuce. “I mean, you avoid us sometimes. I know you’re comfortable being alone, but I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder, you know? Like, did we do something, or are you upset with us, or something like that.” Her eyes glanced away.

She thought she was the reason I stayed away.

She thought she was the one who wasn’t good enough.

I was an asshole.

I shook my head and reached over to squeeze her hand. “I have trust issues, and I let them have too much power over me. I’m sorry. You’ve never done anything. It’s the opposite. I don’t feel good enough to be your friend.”

A sheen of tears rested on the underside of her eyelids. “No. No. Never. Why would you ever think that?”

I shrugged, pulling my hand back and tucking it on my lap. “Because some really bitchy and catty girls made me think that my senior year of high school.”

“They were jealous.”

Those words came out so strong. She was so sure of it. Hope rose in me, just a little bit, but I held it in check. Maybe. Maybe not. Those girls really did hate me. I had a hard time believing it was all because of jealousy.

She was waiting for me to respond, and I gave her a half-hearted grin. “Maybe.” My throat was swelling. Topic change, please. “Let’s talk about how we can get Sarah, Laura, and Casey to make up.”

That was what we did for the rest of our lunch, but when we left and I headed for my second class, I felt a heaviness on my shoulders. It settled there once she started talking about Casey, and it only intensified when we realized both of us thought we weren’t good enough for the other. I thought it would’ve lifted once the conversation switched, but it didn’t. It grew lighter, but it was still there.

Or maybe it was Carruthers, because as we walked out of the cafeteria, a bunch of guys began chanting, “Dick Crusher.” Some students were confused but others started laughing. I saw a few heated expressions and felt a similar experience as James from class.

I went a little faster.

If I heard comments like that, I’d have to engage, and I was suddenly so tired. I didn’t want to constantly battle every day, every hour, but the video made me a target.

I walked into my second class’s building, and more guys were heading out. They whipped around, recognizing me.

“Hey!” one shouted at me.

Veering through a group of short hallways, I took different turns until I lost them. Whatever he had to say wasn’t going to be congratulatory. I could sense it.

Once I was sure they left, I stopped around a corner and let out a shaky breath. I clutched my bag to my chest.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

There were ten minutes until my next class. I liked to get there early and go over the day’s notes. Sarah and Laura’s mental day excuse was sounding like a good idea.

I was still weighing the idea. To skip or not? To fight other assholes in my class, if they were in there or . . . I felt my phone in my pocket. I could go to Shay’s right now. Even if he wasn’t there, he’d probably let me hide in his room.

I snorted.

I used to hate the guy, and somehow he’d become my refuge.

No. I stepped back into the hall. No matter where I’d go, or how long I hid, they’d be there. I’d have to deal with them at some point.

I went to class.

Shay met me at the back door.

I texted him when I was walking up the driveway, and I’d taken one step onto the patio before the door opened. He stood there, wearing those same sweatpants that rode sinfully low on his hips. He had a shirt on, barring the view that I knew was there, and ran a hand through his hair. He gave me a crooked grin. “Have you had dinner yet?”

He moved back, and I stepped inside.

We were close, and he brushed against me, reaching around to close the door. I started to shake my head, but as he touched me, other sensations were already overriding the tightness in my stomach. That second class had been okay, but there were two assholes with smart comments. I sniped back, but I hadn’t shut them up. I only pushed off another verbal attack that would probably come Wednesday. And because I knew Shay would be able to pick up something was wrong, I lingered in my dorm room a couple hours before coming over. He had practice anyway.

“Kennedy?”