BELONGS TO ME

Chapter 20

Camila

Come Wednesday, midterms are in full effect and caffeine is the food of choice. Most of those on campus are hunkered down with study groups, essays, and a million other things that keep all of us busy and on the go. I've seen Hailee twice all week, talked to my brother once outside of a few texts, and while I haven't seen Lauren either, we've both found the time to respond to each other's messages.

Except for today.

Today, I didn't hear back from her, but they traveled all day yesterday, and this morning played their first early game. I'm not sure what her game day routine is, so I figure she likes to stay busy and focused, and maybe she'd text me later, but then the game ended. Badly.

Her receiver fumbled with three minutes on the clock, and the opposing team picked it up, running it back to score a touchdown. If that weren't bad enough, she was sacked twice in the next drive, and the coach pulled her out of the game when she hopped up limping.

Dinah got to go in as her backup, but it was already third down. There wasn't enough time left, and the Sharks took the loss.

Lauren was okay, though, because I watched her walk off the field after interviews.

I tried to text her after the game, but she didn't answer then either, so I think she might be the sit back and reflect after a defeat type, which is why I'm sitting here staring at Hailee, unsure of what to do.

She cocks her hip. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

"You said they just got home two hours ago. Are you sure they're partying? Shouldn't they, like, sleep?"

She scoffs, as she moves to my desk and snags a pair of dangly earrings. "Please, they had midterms just like the rest of us. They're pissed, tired, and in need of a pick-me-up."

"Who called?"

"Harry. He said he left you a message too."

Frowning, I pick up my phone, and sure enough, I have a voicemail from Harry and one from Carl. "They must have called when I was taking out the trash."

I look at her, and she folds her hands in front of her in a prayer-like motion.

"What if she doesn't feel like hanging out? Or what if she's busy?"

"Honey, she will get unbusy when you show up. Trust that." She stomps like an excited child. "Come on, please! You're already looking fine, fresh face, hair did, so let's go!"

Biting my lip, I push to my feet. "Okay, hurry before I change my mind."

Hailee squeals, throws her arm around my shoulders and we're out the door.

Less than an hour later, we're walking up the porch to the football house.

Carl spots us the second we step inside—I'd swear he had GPS trackers on us, if I didn't know any better.

He steps up, wrapping me in a hug and lifting me off the ground a moment. "My baby sister came to party! Finally!" He smiles, drunkenly, steering us toward the keg in the corner.

I grin up at him, patting him on the back while he fills up a few cups, passing them over.

"How you feeling?"

"Pissed off." He laughs with a shrug. "But ready to get back out there."

"Yeah, sucks to be a loser," Hailee teases, and he playfully flinches her way.

Hailee gets the familiar giggle she always does when Carl shows her attention, but she quickly swallows it.

He pulls his phone from his pocket with a frown. "Be back, my buddy's here, needs help carrying shit in. Stay away from all these fuckers 'til I get to tell 'em you're my sister."