Fighting For You (Bragan University Series Book 2)

by Gianna Gabriela

  I wonder what makes her think he would?

  Girl, breathe. It’s not your place, I remind myself.

  “Isn’t he dating someone?” says the blonde, and I smile.

  “There’s a rumor he’s been hanging out with this girl who just started school. She’s got cancer or some shit.”

  The smile falls from my face in a heartbeat. I didn’t think people knew. Maybe they remember me from when I started school, but had to leave?

  “Seriously? I heard the last girl he dated had cancer too. She died though. Does he have a thing for cancer patients?”

  “Maybe he likes projects,” her friend says. “He seems like the kind of guy who likes charity work.”

  My rage intensifies.

  I want to go over there and hit her. I hate the way she’s talking about people with cancer—as if they’re projects, or pariahs—like we are nothing but misfortunate people.

  “She’s not even pretty. I doubt he’s dating her. He’s probably just entertaining her because she reminds him of his ex,” the blonde says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

  “You’re right. I’d say go for it. He won’t turn you down, especially not for a girl like that.”

  A girl like what? She has no idea what I look like. If she did, I doubt she’d be talking about me while I stand mere feet away.

  I’m seconds away from putting them in their place when I feel someone grasp my hand. Looking up, my eyes connect with Emma’s. By the concern there, she must’ve heard everything that was just said.

  “Ignore them. They’re not known for being nice,” she breathes, pulling me beside her and directing me towards the stairs.

  But ignoring them is easier said than done. Walking past them, I throw up a prayer for patience so that I don’t knock the pathetic satisfied smiles from their faces.

  One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Just breathe, Zoe. Just breathe. They’re not worth it.

  I repeat my mantra until I’m out the front door.

  The walk is quiet, and the air is tense. I know Emma wants to comfort me, but she’s hesitant because she doesn’t know how. All I need is silence right now. All I need is a moment to hold it together before it all falls apart.

  His girlfriend died of cancer.

  His girlfriend died of cancer.

  I had cancer.

  It must be some twisted joke.

  Project.

  Replacement?

  Charity case?

  27

  Confrontation

  Jesse

  I grab my phone, checking it for the hundredth time. No new messages. Throwing it into my gym bag, I get ready to hit the field for practice.

  For some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.

  I haven’t spoken to Zoe much over the last week. For anyone else, that’s normal, but for us it’s not. We talk every day. It’s been like that since the day I met her—every day since we became friends. Even though she said she wanted to spend time with Emma this week, I’ve still sent her a few messages today to check in, but she hasn’t responded.

  It feels so wrong to not talk to her. It’s almost like a part of me is missing.

  “Get your ass outside, Falcon,” Coach's voice booms from behind me.

  “Yes, sir.” Shutting my locker, I join the others.

  Coach blows the whistle—practice is finally over.

  If I didn’t love this game, if this game didn’t help keep me sane, I would’ve dropped it a long time ago.

  This week, I’m glad I have practices to push me past the point of exhaustion. I crave the pain that comes from it because I needed to hurt physically to avoid thinking about all the other ways in which I was hurting.

  “Are you okay?” Chase asks as I come out of the locker room shower.

  “Yeah,” I say, throwing the towel on the bench and putting on some sweatpants.

  “You sure?” he presses, and I know why.

  “Just another year.”

  He gives me a sympathetic look. “You know we’re here if you need us, right?”

  “Yup,” I respond, watching Chase walk away without saying anything else. I think this is the time of year when he talks to me the most because he wants me to know he cares.

  I hear my phone ping with a notification, and I quickly search the depths of my bag to find it. When I pull it out, I see Zoe’s name displayed across the notification screen.

  And just like that, an invisible weight is lifted from my shoulders.

  Unlocking my phone, I read her text.

  Can we talk?

  That’s all the message says, and I wonder if there is something wrong after all.

  Of course. Do you want me to come over?

  I type out the words quickly and press send. I’m too impatient though and add,

  I can be there in 15.

  Sure.

  On any other day, a message like this one wouldn’t raise red flags, but on a day like today, and after not talking properly to her for almost a week, something tells me I should be worried.

  ZOE

  Bracing myself for a conversation I wouldn’t have dreamed of having, I head down to the lobby. I know Jesse said he’d meet me here in fifteen minutes, but I don’t want to have this conversation inside my apartment, or even in my building. What I need is neutral territory.

  I sit on the front steps, waiting for him to arrive. When he finally does, he’s wearing sweatpants and a sweater with the school logo on it. He must’ve come straight from practice. As he approaches me, he smiles widely like he’s extremely happy to see me.

  As if he actually cares about me.

  Like I truly mean something to him.

  The joke’s on me.

  Taking a deep breath, I stand up and walk towards him, stopping him from coming any closer.

  “Hey,” he says, leaning in for a hug.

  I sidestep his attempt and cross my arms. “Hey.”

  He frowns. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know yet.” I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “What do you mean?” he says.

  I start walking away from my building, praying he follows. I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t care. I just know I need to have this conversation, and I don’t like what the outcome may be.

  He follows me cautiously, allowing me the time to gather my thoughts.

  “I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I need you to answer them directly and honestly,” I tell him, holding myself together while the world him and I have lived in for the last few months threatens to collapse. Knowing this, I don’t allow myself a moment to slow down and let things catch up to me. We walk side-by-side, and I make it a point to look straight ahead and avoid his eyes—the eyes that have withheld the truth from me for far too long.

  He stops me, guiding me to face him. “Are you okay?”

  I give in and look at him. His eyes search my own for a sign of hurt, injury, or pain. I can tell he’s trying to assess what’s going on, but I give nothing away. I school my expression like the best poker players.

  “I will be,” I tell him, because I will. I’ve gotten through worse. “Yes or no answers only, okay?” I add, turning from him and walking towards the quad.

  “Zo, you’re scaring me.”

  I can’t prolong this conversation any longer. I stop, turning to face him.

  “There’s nothing to be scared of; I just need answers.”

  He shifts his weight from one foot to another, and I know he’s thinking about a million different scenarios.

  I start off easy. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any serious relationships?”

  He lifts his brows, confused. “One,” he says. “Why are you asking me this?”

  “Did she die?” I cut straight to it, and he flinches. I kick myself for not being sen
sitive enough. Still, if true, this isn’t something I should’ve found out through sorority girls gossiping behind my back. This is something he should’ve told me.

  “Um…” His eyes latch onto mine, searching for clues. He clears his throat and adds, “Yes” in a whisper so low that I almost miss it. I can see the pain in his eyes, and for a brief moment, I feel the desire to bring my arms around him—to comfort him. But I hold on to that small sliver of doubt that keeps wondering if he’s been using me. Does he only see me as a charity case? Whatever the answer, I want to hear it straight from his lips.

  I inhale deeply, asking the question that could—will—destroy it all. “Did she have cancer?”

  “She did,” he says matter-of-factly.

  I push a little further for clarification. For more. “Did she have ALL?”

  “Yes.”

  They were right. I wanted them to be wrong, but they were right.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about her?” The weakness in my voice betrays the tough exterior I’m trying to project.

  He stares at me, crossing his arms defensively this time. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

  I realize he’s not one bit sorry for withholding that information from me.

  “You start hanging out with someone who has the same cancer your girlfriend died of, and you don’t think it’s important to mention it?” I feel like I’m shouting, but my words have no strength behind them.

  “No, I didn’t. I don’t see why I need to share that with anyone,” he snarls, and I take a step back.

  “You don’t see why you being with me looks suspicious?”

  He wipes his hands on his pants. He’s on edge, and I’m nudging him closer.

  “Why would me being with you be suspicious?”

  “Because your girlfriend had cancer!”

  I’m walking on glass, and something is bound to break—most likely me.

  “A lot of people have cancer,” he says, frustrated. His bag crashes to the cement path, and I look around to make sure no one else can hear this conversation. This is something I need to know, but the rest of the world can do without.

  “You’re missing the point.”

  He pulls at the hair on the back of his head. “Then spell it out for me, Zoe, because I’m tired of trying to figure it out.”

  “Isn’t it odd that we’re…” I lose the courage I had earlier because maybe I shouldn’t be mad at him for this. Maybe I’ve been overthinking what we are. Nothing.

  “We’re what?”

  “It feels like you being with me was all a lie. You talking to me. Me thinking you liked me…” The words tumble out of my mouth in an uncontrollable wave.

  “I don’t understand why you’d think that,” he says, my heart breaking at his admission.

  “It feels like you talking to me was your way of trying to replace her,” I spit it out. That’s my fear—that I’m the replacement for his dead girlfriend.

  “No. That’s not… I didn’t… we aren’t…”

  We aren’t even on the same page here, are we?

  “What made you want to be my friend? What made you want to spend so much time with me? What made you want to hold my hand?” I ask all the questions that have been running through my mind at once. He should have told me about her.

  “I… I just saw you, and I can’t explain it… I was drawn to you.”

  Drawn to me? At hospital?

  “Did she—” I stop and look away so that the tears threatening to spill over stay at bay. “Was she at the same hospital as me?” I ask. He looks at me like I’m a fragile object that can break at any moment, and then, with a subtle nod of his head, the tears I’ve been holding back start to fall.

  “Do I remind you of her?” I ask, wiping the tears away.

  “Zoe…”

  “Do I?” I press, my tone harsher.

  “A little, yes, but—”

  “God!” I laugh humorlessly. “Are you even over her?”

  “I… I don’t know,” he says, fisting his hair.

  “Why are you with me?”

  “I don’t… know. I like you. I like spending time with you.”

  I scoff. “Those girls were right, you know? To you, I’m just a charity case. That’s all I’ve been to you.”

  “You’re not a charity case…”

  “You do know that being with me won’t bring her back, right?” That’s the last thing I hurl at him as I turn around and walk back to my dorm.

  He doesn’t know what he wants.

  And I won’t stand here and wait for him to figure it out.

  28

  What Am I Doing?

  Jesse

  Being with me won’t bring her back.

  Those are the words that have been replaying like a bad song on repeat for the last week. Those were the words she chose as she closed herself up to me and walked away.

  I slam my head back against the headstone I’m leaning against. How could I’ve been so stupid, so blind?

  I know that being with Zoe won’t bring back Hayley.

  But I can’t help wondering if Zoe was right. Maybe some part of me felt that being with her could make up for losing Hayley?

  It’s not completely irrational. Fucked up, sure, but not impossible.

  I think even a psychologist would agree.

  Why else would I fall for someone at the same hospital, on the same floor, suffering the same disease that took away Hayley? If not trying to live my relationship with Hayley through Zoe, then what the hell was I doing?

  I don’t want to believe that this—me and Zoe—has all been a lie concocted in my mind. I don’t want to believe that I’d be such a fucked-up individual to use her that way.

  But if that isn’t the case, then why didn’t I ever put words to my feelings? Why didn’t I ask her to be my girlfriend?

  I leave the cemetery, driving straight back to the house. Whenever I usually come to see Hayley, I go home and feel at ease, but not today. Today, I’m wired.

  I drive a little too fast and get home way too quickly. Parking against the curb, I get out of the car, slamming the door behind me, and walk towards the house. Letting myself in, I’m met with silence, which is not what I expected. There’s never silence in this house.

  I head over to the kitchen, grab a Gatorade, and then head to the living room. Dropping down onto the couch, I put my feet up and switch on the TV, ready to watch something to drown my thoughts.

  My plan is interrupted, though, when my phone rings.

  “Dude, where are you?” Zack asks.

  “Home, why?” I ask, using as few words as possible.

  “Because practice is about to start, and Coach is going to be pissed!” he tells me. No wonder the house was quiet. I must’ve forgotten about practice with the roller coaster of a life I’ve been living this past week.

  “Crap, I’ll … I’m on my way.” I stand up, hauling ass to my room to get my workout bag.

  “How could you forget?” he asks, and the only answer I want to give him is Zoe. Zoe is taking up so much room in my mind that I apparently have none left for anything else.

  Instead, I reply, “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Seriously, you’ve been off these past few days. Actually, now that I think about it, I haven’t seen our girl around,” Zack says, referring to Zoe. It’s no surprise her absence is notable, and so is my piss-poor mood.

  “She’s not our girl,” I retort, taking the steps downstairs two at a time.

  “You know what I mean, Jesse,” he says.

  Yeah, I knew what he meant. Zoe already felt like she was part of our family…

  So why the fuck didn’t I do something to make her stay?

  I lock the front door behind me and get in my car, shoving my bag onto the seat beside me.

  “I’m on my way,” I tell him, switching the subject.

  “If Coach asks, I’ll tell him you had some premed stuff to deal with, but hurry up,” he says, and I can hear the voice
s of my teammates in the background.

  “Thanks.” He’s always had my back. He may not know everything, but that doesn’t stop him from being there for me.

  “Again,” Coach yells as we run laps around the field. With each completed lap, I push myself a little further—try to run a little faster. Every drill Coach calls gives me the opportunity to take out all of my frustrations on my body. I know I’ll hurt tomorrow, but I need this today.

  Being with me won’t bring her back.

  Every time I hear those words, I push harder. Run faster.

  Anything to get them out of my head.

  Football practice ends a few hours later. The only thing I’m grateful for is the opportunity to work out and forget what’s happening in the real world. While I was working hard on the field, Zoe wasn’t on my mind. The moment I stopped though, she consumed my every thought once again.

  Zack comes up to where I’m standing in front of the locker assigned to me. “Are you good?”

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “You don’t really look fine.”

  “You don’t look so great yourself,” I joke, hoping to distract him from asking more.

  “That’s a lie. I always look great,” he says. “But all jokes aside…”

  “What?”

  “What’s going on between you and Zoe?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I thought you guys were starting to… you know?” He waits for me to finish his sentence.

  “We were friends.” I say it in past tense, flinching when the words leave my mouth.

  “You guys are more than friends,” he says.

  I wish it were true.