A Missing Heart(35)

“I appreciate the offer, but—”

“It’s five hundred total and that includes all meals. It’s a pretty sick deal, bro; you sure?”

I’m still two hundred short, and I had been saving up my money for a trek down to D.C. this summer so I can visit Cammy. There’s no way. “It’s a hard offer to pass up, man, but I can’t dish that out.” I release my hands from the back of my neck and lean forward against my desk, feeling a little embarrassed to admit I can’t afford jack shit right now. I continue working on the paper I have due tomorrow while Brink continues brainstorming. “Sorry, bro.”

Brink twists my chair around, forcing me to face him and his cheesy-ass grin on his face. I’m not sure what’s so funny about this, but clearly it’s something I’m missing. “Okay, fine, you’ve twisted my arm. I’ll pay for your ass to go.” Brink throws money around like it’s hitting the stage at the stripper joint we frequent, on his dime. I’m pretty sure his parents are loaded, or he came into some serious cash at some point because he definitely doesn’t have a job here.

“That’s really nice, man, but I can’t ask you to do that. I wouldn’t be able to pay you back anytime soon.” I’m getting uncomfortable in the conversation. Brink and I get along great. He’s the funniest guy I’ve ever met, but he’s completely over the top, which is funny for me, of all people, to say, because that’s all anyone said about me in high school. Though, that was before my daughter was given up. I haven’t been too over the top since then. It’s like I lost a part of myself and I can’t get it back, no matter how hard I try.

Brink steps in closer and rests his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it tightly as a wide grin stretches across his face. “I don’t want it back, man. You’re my brother here, and I want you to come with us. It wouldn’t be the same without you. And, it’s going to be the time of our f*cking lives!”

It doesn’t feel right. I don’t like handouts and I’m not one to take them. But…Cancun or sitting at home, staring out my goddamn window all week. Cancun, or staring out… “You sure about this?” I ask him.

“Dude, I’m more than sure. You need this. You’ve only slept with like four chicks this year, and you need more experience.” Uh. Quite the reputation I earned for myself but that has not happened. There was one girl, one night. One really drunk night, and when I woke up in the morning, I realized she lives in the dorm room next door. So, that’s fun. She hasn’t said a word to me since, and I don’t know why. Don’t want to know why.

“Sounds like a killer time,” I tell him.

“We’re leaving tomorrow night after classes. We have an airport shuttle coming here at eight.”

“Awesome,” I say, pounding his fist. “I appreciate this, man. This is really, really great.” This is f*cking awesome. Who am I kidding?

I spend the rest of the day cramming for my last midterm tomorrow and throw all of the summer clothes I brought to school, which wasn’t a ton, into a bag. As I’m packing up, the memory of me telling Cammy I would be heading down to D.C. for spring break hits me hard. She shot the idea down and told me she was interning at one of the museums near her campus. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, and who can argue with that.

Any time I’ve mentioned trying to meet up either here or there, Cammy has had some reason that prevented it. We’re not together; I get it. We made this decision months ago. Sometimes I still think there’s hope for us, even being so far apart, but it’s only because she seems impossible to let go of. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let go completely, but maybe this trip is exactly what I need.



“Cancun!!!!!” Brink shouts, running down the hall with his bags thrown over his shoulder. I follow with a little less enthusiasm, but at the same time, I feel excitement stirring within me, a feeling I haven’t had in a long time. Every minute closer I get to Cancun, the better I feel this idea is. I seriously need this. I drop my bags in the lobby of our dorm, glancing outside to see if there’s a shuttle out there. While I don’t see one, I hear Brink focusing on something other than the shuttle. “Hello to you, Miss Hot Stuff. Haven’t seen you around campus before.” Brink doesn’t give up. Morning, noon, and night—if there’s a chance at getting a chick in his bed, he’s on it—her too for that matter. “Please tell me you’re heading to Cancun too.” I walk up behind him, seeing a chick with her hand on her hip. Even from behind, I can tell by her stance that she’s not charmed by Brink’s behavior. Of course, he finds this hard to believe and usually tries harder in these situations.

“Is this the Beltmore dorm?” The girl asks in a soft, yet annoyed voice.

“Why yes, it is. Are you by chance looking for room 505?” Yes, Brink, she’s looking for you in your dorm room.

Does this shit actually work on girls? Maybe I should give it a shot. “Yeah, I hear there’s a couple of hot football players who live there looking for a good time,” I add in with laughter. “Our numbers are on the girls’ bathroom stalls if you need more information about us, though.”

Brink turns around with his fist up for me to pound, “Hell yeah, bro!” He punches my fist just as the girl turns to face me.