45. The Gap Between

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The news about Dean's and Susie's breakup still hung heavy in my head.

I wasn't sure what to feel about the fact that I was the constant reason for the downfall of Dean's love life. Every girl who wanted to date him exclusively had to accept me as if I was attached by the hip to him as if we were a package deal. But no girl could handle that. Even Susie, the person he'd ever truly fallen in love with at some point, also the girl who had put up with his antics for far too long, decided to leave.

The buzzing phone in my pocket pulled me out of my thoughts, throwing me back to the campus library.

Old Fart: Still at the library?

Me: Yes. Almost done. Sup?

Old Fart: Dinner?

Dinner meant we were going to order food and eat it at his place. One thing led to another and I would probably leave his place at eight in the morning.

Me: Just dinner. No funny business.

Old Fart: Ouch. You poked where it hurts.

Me: I'm serious. Need to see my advisor tomorrow and I haven't got the shit done. I can't stay long.

Old Fart: It's fine :) Call me when you're ready.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket as I watched Dean talk to a tall blonde who he probably met at one of those parties. They sat next to my table, whispering at each other but I could easily listen to them given how quiet the room was. He went along with the flirt she insinuated but when she came up with the idea of hitting a food truck together, he winced.

"Can I take a rain check?" Dean glanced at me. "I need to give Jen a lift home tonight."

Okay. That was fast. Back in the days, Dean often used me as an escape if he was not interested enough in the girls. But most of the time, he would keep me hidden for a while, at least until he was done messing around with them a bit. Was she that bad? Or did Dean find this game not fun anymore?

When Bree frowned, I interjected. "Oh no, you don't need to give me a lift today. My boyfriend is picking me up." I cringed inwardly when I said the taboo word out loud, but it was worth it.

Dean narrowed his eyes at me, but I stared back at him innocently, stifling my laugh. Payback is bitch.


Eating Chinese take-out while devouring it on the couch was the plan. Blake and I had been seeing each other for almost two months now but we only used his dining table once. It was when he decided to cook for my birthday.

I smiled at the memory. I came to his place on Friday night just to find his dining table was already decorated; a red plaid table runner, a couple of dinner candles, a silver ice bucket for the Champagne bottle, and two balloons tied up at the corner of the table. He made stuffed chicken with baked potatoes and mixed veggies. It was a simple meal but he went through all the trouble to cook for me.

Sadly, it was only a one-time thing, but I couldn't complain because it would be dangerous for my plan to be casual with him.

My thesis was going through its final revision, and next week I would be submitting it for the final test where a group of professors would be appointed to rip me off during the presentation. It was mind-blowingly scary but it was the ticket to my graduation, the door to my dream life.

"My presentation is probably in three weeks."

"That's fast." Blake frowned. "Are you even ready for that?"

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