Songs for Cricket by Laine, E. (best books to read in your 20s TXT) 📗

I woke up cold and alone, having no idea when Shepard left. I felt like crying and not happy tears, which was an odd thing for me. Growing up with two brothers I’d learned to be tough.

Except now, doubt crept in. No matter what Shep said, his friendship with my brother started long before his love for me. Did he regret choosing me? Would he change his mind and tell my brother he’d break things off?

That got me mad. I grabbed clothes and headed for the bathroom. Just as I was about to go for the knob, it opened, and I stared my brother in the face.

“August,” I began.

His eyes swept passed me as he swiftly moved around me like I was an obstacle in his way and not his sister.

I reached out, mouth open, but closed my eyes, instead deciding he needed more time. Forcing a conversation now could only mean ugly things said that couldn’t be taken back. And the truth was, I understood his hurt feelings. Growing up hadn’t been easy in our household. We had shared everything except clothes. Shepard had been as much as a brother to him as Cooper. In his mind, I’d stolen him away. So I said nothing.

It wasn’t long after that we all piled in the car. The ride to morning practice was awkward at best. No one spoke except Cooper who made random comments about the weather. Shepard barely glanced at me, and I might have let my fears get the best of me until his hand found mine and held it the entire way.

Once we arrived, he squeezed my hand before letting go. I shouldn’t have been disappointed he hadn’t kissed me or walked me inside. He was being respectful of my brother. I was the barrier that had broken a lifelong friendship.

Cooper slung an arm around me. “Auggie’s being a dick, but he’ll come around.”

August could hold a grudge. Once he wrote someone off, in his mind, it was for good. August saying Shep was dead to him didn’t declare the beginning of war but the ending that resulted in complete separation. I could see the devastation in Shep’s expression.

“Are you sure about that?” I muttered to Cooper.

“Do you remember a time when Shep wasn’t around? Something else is bugging Auggie.”

I wanted to believe him and thought about Emily. Had something happened between them?

After practice was over, Shepard and I traded texts. Since we hadn’t become official until yesterday, we hadn’t traded class information. Now I got the bad news that our schedules weren’t compatible. His next class was across campus from mine. We wouldn’t have any time together, not even lunch. I wouldn’t see him again until that afternoon.

As I barely slid into a seat before class started, I regretted not getting that tour from Tori. I was digging in my bag to get my MacBook Air when girls in a row ahead of me started giggling.

If they thought they were being quiet, they weren’t, I heard every word.

“He’s hot,” one said.

“And smart too,” another said.

“I’d have his babies,” the first one said.

“How?” a totally different one chimed in.

“If Stephen Hawking can, I bet he can,” the first one said.

“Who’s Stephen Hawking?”

That was when I sat up because I’d watched the sad movie about the genius who had a disease that basically stole everything from him physically except his mind. Despite his decline and being wheelchair bound, he managed to have three kids with his first wife.

I stared at Finn sitting in his wheelchair at the lectern and rapidly gathered my things. He wasn’t one of my professors listed on my schedule. I left the classroom as quietly as I could and stopped to check the room number. It was the right place; then I spotted the paper posted nearby stating a room change for my class to one on the second level.

As fast as I could I climbed the stairs. I found the room and opened it slowly, hoping my late entrance would go unnoticed.

I’d just stepped in the aisle when the professor narrowed his eyes on me.

“Ms. Farrow, nice of you to join us,” Professor Wright said.

How did he know my name?

“Late, but then again, you’re a minor celebrity, and we should be grateful you bothered to show up at all,” he continued.

He’d seen my YouTube video and/or my television interview. I felt my cheeks heat fire engine red that had just parked itself on my face.

“Come on, everyone. Let’s make a space for Miss Farrow to sit,” he directed.

The place was packed, but in one row, people stood and shifted over, leaving an empty space for me at the end.

I tried to sit and not slump in my chair as my every move was scrutinized.

“Alright now, shall we continue?”

His cynical eyes held mine, and I gave a quick nod, wanting nothing more than to flee. Luckily there was still a little pride left in me that forced me to stay.

After class, I headed to the front and waited in a short line to speak to Professor Wright. As it moved slowly, I was destined to be late for my next class. But considering how awful this one had gone, I needed to try and salvage any hope he wouldn’t fail me out of spite.

“Miss Farrow.”

I jerked my head up and noticed the two people in front of me had vanished. Great. I was looking more and more like a grade A idiot, or was that F.

“Professor Wright, I wanted to apologize. I was in the wrong classroom . . .”

I trailed off as he lifted a hand to silence me.

“Details are important, Miss Farrow.”

He kept putting so much emphasis on the miss I was starting to wonder if his problem was with me or women in general.

“No one else found it hard to be in the right place on time,” he said.

Everything I’d thought to say got filed in my inner trash icon.

“You may see yourself as the university’s darling, a feminist