if only

chapter 17

Weeks went by, and I did all that I could to hold onto her.

She'd been right about our schedules; my course load was heavy, and she was back in the studio with Finneas. Pre-awards show interviews picked up, and then red carpet season began.

I saw her once or twice a week, if I was lucky, and it was only for sex. We barely spoke anymore, aside from a little small talk at the beginning of our evening, before we got into it.

I did my best on my end to express my love for her. I brought her flowers. I offered to cook her meals, but she never wanted that, and blamed it on not having enough time.

Then, one week in March, I didn't see her at all. The next week we barely spoke, and then it stopped altogether. I'd like to say that I was surprised, or even that I was a wreck... but I'd seen it coming.

"I'm fine, Mags," I said quietly in the back of our lecture hall. "I promise. It was always gonna end this way."

"Yeah, well, you look like shit," she muttered back, her face full of worry. "I hate that she did this. Do I need to beat her ass now? What a role reversal."

But I just chuckled and waved her off. "It's good. We have exams coming up soon anyway. I'm busy."

"She won't even talk to me about it this time," she huffed. "It's freaking me the fuck out! That bitch has told me everything she's ever done for the last 10 years."

"Yeah, well, she probably doesn't trust you to keep your mouth shut after our intervention."

Mags glowered at me, then softened. "You think that's it? That she doesn't trust me anymore?"

I rubbed my friends arm. I hated that Billie was shutting her out because of us; it was completely unfair to Mags. "I don't know, honey. Just talk to her about it, okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "You and I both know how well that'll go."

I shrugged, and turned back to the lesson, trying to listen while my heart felt like lead.

After the lecture, as I leaned down to put my books away in my bag, a pair of crisp white sneakers appeared beside my head. I followed the thin legs attached to them up to find a fellow classmate standing over me, looking nervous, but cheery.

I slowly sat up. "Oh, hello..."

"Hey! It's Shane, right?"

I cringed internally, but it was still better than Shannon. "Um, it's Shawn, actually."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She clapped her hand to her mouth in awkward distress. "God, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot..."

"Not if you're in this class, you're not," I said, and couldn't help but smile a little. She was cute. She had short, neat, blonde waves, and soft brown eyes. She wore a tight white crop top and a little plaid skirt. My eyes were immediately drawn to her wrist, where she wore several friendship bracelets. I bit back a smirk.

"God, right? I'm excited to never need Latin in real life," she said, grinning, holding out her hand. "I'm Laura."

I took it, standing, and gave it a soft shake. "Hey, Laura."

"I just wanted to kind of, um, come say hi," she said softly, tucking an unruly chunk of hair behind her ear. "I've seen you in class, and around campus, and, um... yeah."

Mags made a little noise behind me, and I turned to glare at her. She stood up, stuffing the last of her crochet stuff in her bag, and stuck her hand out to Laura, who took it weakly. "Hey, I'm Mags. Bet you like Taylor Swift, huh?"

The girl looked puzzled, her hand instinctively flying to her bracelets. "Um... yeah. Why?"

Mags shook her head and punched my shoulder. "No reason. See you later, Shawn."