Check, Please (Book #2)

Six.

Meet me by the comm school in 10?

My heart skipped a beat as I opened the text message and typed out a single word in response: Sure.

I'd left my skateboard at home that morning in anticipation of my meeting with Pete, so I hurried across campus on foot, annoyed by how slowly everyone else walked. The communications school was close enough to where I was that I didn't need to rush, but it still felt like the other students around me were moving at less than a snail's pace. I mumbled the occasional apology as I weaved through groups of people, unwilling to lessen my own stride to accommodate theirs. I had a tendency to move quickly around campus in general these days, in large part because I was afraid that slowing down would give an old acquaintance the opportunity to pop up and stop me for a chat. The prospect of being roped into small talk with someone from freshman year gave me the chills, if only because I knew exactly how any conversation we might have would go: "So, what are your plans for after graduation?"

By the time I reached the building that housed our university's communications department, Gemma was already waiting for me on the edge of one of the many fountains that decorated our school's grounds. Wearing a sundress and sandals, she waved to me as I drew closer and got to her feet. Her backpack rested on the ground beside her and before she could move to pick it up, I bent down and grabbed it.

"You don't have to," she protested halfheartedly, but I shook my head because I knew that she loved it when I did things like that.

"What's going on?" I asked, still somewhat surprised that she'd wanted to spend time with me in broad daylight.

Gemma bit her lip. "I've been thinking and I realized that I haven't been very nice to you recently. I'm sorry."

My eyebrows shot up with disbelief. I looked around, certain that I was being set up for a prank. "What are you doing?" Gemma asked as I spun in a circle, trying to spot one of my friends.

"Where are the cameras?"

"The what?"

"You're screwing with me, right?"

Gemma looked hurt, or, at the very least, she'd mastered the art of pretending to be. "Why would you think that?"

"When's the last time you've ever apologized for anything?"

Eyes narrowing, I could feel Gemma bristle in response to my jab. When her mouth opened, I expected a cutting retort in reply, but instead, she sighed. Her expression softened again while she studied my face. "That's fair. You're right." She motioned towards a building in the distance. "Do you want to go to MoGro?"

MoGro, the unofficial nickname of Moretti Grounds, housed the campus' main café. Typically teeming with anxious freshmen, the university had recently renovated it to add on an additional dining area. Gemma continued, "I thought maybe we could talk, or something."

"About what?"

Taking a small step forward, Gemma reached out and took my hand. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice low.

My breath caught in my throat as I realized the conversation that we were about to have couldn't possibly end well. The look in Gemma's eyes told me as much. The expression on her face also told me that whatever came next was completely out of my control, just like everything else with her. "Yeah okay," I said after a short pause, my mouth dry.

Gemma smiled and I tried to read her body language while he walked, our fingers loosely weaved together. I needed to be able to anticipate which way the conversation would go, if only so that I could prepare myself for either crushing rejection or a stroll on cloud nine. She seemed like she was in a good mood, which made me wary. History told me that happiness and unpredictability were closely intertwined in Gemma's world.