“Becoming best friends takes a lot of time.” My cock hardened as she caressed it through my pants. “I’m not sure I’ll have much of that when the season starts.”
“You have to sleep somewhere at night, right?” She bit her lip again. “I’ll be there for you whenever you need me…Want me to show you how good it could be, future best friend?”
“I would.” I smiled. “Tell me when.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight works.”
“Okay.” Satisfied with my answer, she smiled wider and got up. “I’m going to tell my friends I’m leaving. You think you’ll be ready to go by the time I get back?”
“Most definitely.”
She blushed and walked away, and I signaled to the waitress for the check. Then I pulled out my phone, noticing another email from Arizona.
Subject: Scheduling Time.
Now that you’re going to be a huge basketball star, I guess I’ll have to start making appointments to come see you. How far out into the year are you booked with groupies? Or do I need to go through your “people” for things like this?
Rolling my eyes,
Arizona
Subject: Re: Scheduling Time.
You wouldn’t have to make appointments to see me at all if you’d chosen to go to a closer school. You hate snow and rain, so you should’ve never agreed to go the University of Pittsburgh.
Sincerely,
Carter
Subject: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.
I know…Which is why I just transferred. Well, THAT and other stupid things…Ugh. I know it’s sad that I only lasted a month, but I couldn’t stand the dreariness, and that professor I was adamant about learning from? Apparently he got this huge book deal before the semester started and is stepping down from teaching for two years so he can finish it.
Please don’t tell me ‘I told you so’…
Regretting things,
Arizona
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.
I fucking told you so.
Sincerely,
Carter
PS—What school are you transferring to?
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.
Reeves University. Seven minutes away from your precious South Beach University.
I’m actually here right now unpacking. God, I missed the beach!
Will call you when I get more done.
Arizona
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.
No need. I’ll come help you. Send me your address.
Sincerely,
Carter
I wrote a “something came up” on a napkin for my “future best friend,” and headed straight to the address Ari texted me. It was exactly seven minutes like she said, and just like my dorm, it was steps away from the beach. Unlike my dorm though, where everyone had a roommate, it seemed as if all the suites in Ari’s dorm were singles.
I didn’t bother knocking on her already open door. “Ari?”
“I’m back here!” She yelled.
I stepped past the closet and saw her folding clothes on the bed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I would’ve helped you move your stuff.” I asked.
“Because the week I made my decision, you were on ESPN’s college channel with your team-mates talking about how explosive a season this was going to be, how many intensive practices you were looking forward to. I figured you’d be busy. No practice today?”
“No.” I looked around her room. “I just had a date.”
“How’d it go?”
“If I’m here talking to you, how do you think it went?”
She threw a pillow at my face. “Nice seeing you again, too! You want to make yourself useful and actually help me unpack? Could you unload all my books?”
“Sure.” I opened the labeled box and started sorting them. “Within the entire month that you wasted in Pittsburgh, did you do anything worth talking about?”
For the next few hours, we caught up on all the little details that’d slipped through emails and text messages, all the insignificant things that were now seemingly important. And by the end of the night, we’d almost unpacked most of her things.
“Are there any good places to eat on campus?” she asked, yawning. “If not, would you mind driving back to our neighborhood so we can eat at Sam’s?”
“There’s actually this place called Gayle’s I think you’ll like.”
“Gayle’s? It sounds like an old fashioned diner...”
“It is, but the food is perfect. They serve just as many flavors of yogurt as they do of ice cream, and their waffles are ten times better than Sam’s.”
“I refuse to believe that…Do they have a candy bar?”
“They do.”
“What about breakfast at all hours of the day?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay, fine.” She smiled. “I’m sold, but if I don’t like it, you have to pay.”
“I was going to pay anyway…” I pulled out my car keys. “Let’s go.”
Minutes later, we were seated in a booth at Gayle’s—arguing over stupid things like old times and looking over the extensive dessert menu.
“So, is this why you’ve been turning down every girl that approaches you in here, Carter?” The only waitress I’d ever seen in this place stepped in front of us. “Is this your girlfriend?”
“Ha! Never.” Ari laughed. “I’m Arizona. His best friend.”