The Perfect First (Fulton U, #1)(72)

Reece





Snow came down, blanketing the streets, transforming the city grime into a living Christmas card. The campus was quiet now that classes and most exams were over. The shuttles from campus to the airport had been running non-stop as the quad, dorms, and apartments emptied.

“Anyone have socks? I have about eight different sizes and colors and no matches.” Berk leaned out of his door, swinging from the doorjamb.

Tugging open my sock drawer, I smiled, grabbing a handful of the neatly paired socks. The great senior year sock war had ended up with the five of us guys, Marisa, her roommate, Liv, and Seph splitting into teams for a battle that saw many casualties, mainly anything breakable in the house and a dented shin when Marisa tripped LJ up the stairs before beaning him with a sock straight to the eye. We’d left our poor Nerf guns behind because we didn’t have enough for everyone. A shopping trip was in order. I walked past our stash tucked into a laundry basket in the hallway.

“Next time.” Ducking around the corner, I landed next to LJ.

“Here.” I threw three pairs at him and he disappeared back into his room. “Next time guard your artillery better.”

“We can’t all have a tactical expert on our sides,” Berk grumbled under his breath, referring to Seph and her wealth of historical knowledge.

I flipped through the stack of freshly washed clothes in my drawers and pulled out what I’d need for the next couple of days. Packing for away games was always a pain in the ass, but as much as I’d fought her, Seph’s folding method helped me keep everything organized. She’d even bought me a basket for my laundry so I didn’t leave a trail of dirty clothes when I took them to the washer and dryer.

Even studying was easier with her around. The rewards for getting through my work were so much better than the satisfaction of a job well done when her arms were wrapped around my neck. I’d weathered the finals storm and come out mostly unscathed, although it wasn’t like anyone cared about my grades as long as I stayed eligible to play. Coach has us doing drills and studying tape, trying to keep us out of trouble now that he owned us 24/7 in the lead-up to the end of the season. When the next semester started, we’d do it as champions or as the team that had fallen short.

It was time for the bus ride to our last game before the championship. I’d miss the guys. There’d be other teams, but not like them. Two more games to cement my future. Sleeping on the bus usually sucked, but I’d do whatever I could to keep myself from focusing too much on the game. Overthinking things led to mistakes, and mistakes lost playoffs.

I shoved my headphones into my duffel as a notification popped up on my phone. Diving across the bed, I scooped it up and unlocked the screen to read the alert about a sneaker sale at the mall. I flipped to my texts. My last message to Seph from a couple hours ago still showed as unread.

Me: I wish the season was over already. I’m going to miss you.

We hadn’t seen each other much since Coach decided he needed to dictate everything in our lives in the week leading up to the game. He’d be riding our asses after this win too. I couldn’t even let myself think not winning was a possibility. Two more weeks and the pressure cooker would finally be turned off. Two more weeks to become a first-round draft pick.

“We need to get to the bus in twenty or Coach will skin us alive,” LJ called out from across the hall.

“Or maybe just you,” Nix shouted. Berk barreled down the steps like a kid chasing after the ice cream truck waving a twenty stolen from his dad’s wallet. The front door banged open, sending a blast of winter air blowing up the stairs. I swore I saw snowflakes swirling in the air.

“Close the freaking door, jackass. Wait until we’re all down there,” Nix shouted after him.

“Okay, very funny. Who wrote this?” Berk called out from the bottom of the steps. “This is the second one I’ve gotten.”

I poked my head out of my bedroom door. “Who wrote what? And second what?”

Berk climbed the steps with a folded piece of purple paper and a green envelope in his hand. His eyes scanned the paper and he tripped on the last step, nearly face-planting on the landing. I reached out for him and grabbed his arm.

“Can you not bust your face open before the game tomorrow? What is that?”

He stared at the piece of paper clutched in his hands like he’d burn a hole through it, laser vision style.

“What is it and why do you think we wrote it?” I tugged on the corner of the colored paper.

He snatched it back. His cheeks were flushed, and it wasn’t from the ten seconds out in the cold. Now I had to see what had actually made Berk blush.

“It’s—it’s a love note.” He said the words like they were foreign and he was testing them out on his tongue. “Who’s fucking with me?”

“Sounds like someone wants to fuck you if it’s a love note.”

“A love note?” Nix came out with his duffel over his shoulder. “Let me see.” He snatched the paper out of Berk’s hand.

Nix’s eyes widened and his cheeks reddened as he made his way through the words. Berk grabbed for the paper, but Nix planted his hand in the center of his chest, keeping him back.

“What does it say?” I moved to block Berk and tried to get a look over the top edge of the note.