The Graham Effect (Campus Diaries, #1)

“How wild is it that he took over Team USA?” she gushes.


There’s genuine pride in her eyes, and it succeeds in disarming me. Just slightly.

“Amazing news,” I agree, nodding. “He’s a great coach. He’s going to do well there.”

“How about you? Are you doing well?”

“Yep, you know, keeping busy as usual. I heard you got a role in a television pilot? That’s cool.”

Her eyes flash for a second. “It didn’t get picked up.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?”

I smother a sigh. Here we go.

Her tone becomes chilly. “Because I’m sure it makes you happy to hear that.”

“Okay, don’t put this on me,” I say, taking a step away. “I don’t care what you’re doing in LA. I was just being polite.”

Her cheeks redden. One thing about Emma, she doesn’t like to feel dismissed. And that’s precisely what I’m doing right now.

“I have to go. My mom’s waiting for me.”

I’ve barely taken two steps when her voice bites at my back. “You know, you’re a real bitch.”

I turn, baring my teeth in a cheerless smile. “Oh, I am, am I?”

“You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a piece of gum under your shoe. We were best friends, Gigi.”

I stalk over to her. “Yes, Emma. We were best friends.”

“We were supposed to have each other’s backs,” she spits out, eyes glittering. “And you just let your brother humiliate me.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “Seriously? Tell me, how did he humiliate you? Did he dump you in front of everyone at a party? Did he tell you he loved you and then bang somebody else? Like how? Because if memory serves me, he was considerate enough to sit you down in person and tell you he wasn’t interested in a commitment. You’re the one who couldn’t handle it and decided to try to destroy my entire family.”

“Okay, now you’re being melodramatic. I didn’t destroy shit.”

“Really. So you were doing me a solid when you got naked and crawled into my dad’s bed?”

She has the decency to look embarrassed. “Look, I apologized for that.”

“Actually, you didn’t,” I say with an incredulous laugh.

“Yes, I did,” she insists.

“No, Emma, you didn’t, and no amount of rewriting history will change that. You didn’t apologize for anything. You went batshit on us. Shared personal messages, things that I told you in confidence, with everyone at school. Trashed me on social media. And now you’re standing here telling me I’m somehow to blame for it? Not once did you show any remorse.”

I’m so fucking frustrated. I force myself to draw a deep breath, suddenly realizing I don’t want to do this. I don’t owe her this conversation. I owe her nothing. Ryder’s voice fills my head, reminding me I’m allowed to feel what I feel, even if it’s hatred.

And the truth is, I don’t want to make amends with Emma because some things just aren’t mendable. She clearly hasn’t matured at all in three years. Still trying to brush her own actions aside and make me feel crazy for being pissed at her.

“We’re not friends, Emma.” I let out a drained breath. “So, please, just leave me the hell alone. You do you and I’ll do me. And let’s keep our friendship where it belongs: in the past.”





CHAPTER FORTY-SIX


GIGI



Hat trick


IT’S WEIRD BEING OUT IN THE OPEN WITH RYDER, ESPECIALLY IN the arena. Sometimes we show up together if our training aligns. We hold hands, and I don’t miss the looks from his teammates or mine. Cami thinks it’s fantastic. Whitney’s always asking me what we talk about, refusing to view Ryder as anything other than the silent bad boy from the beginning of the year.

Then there’s Case, who’s not quite giving us the silent treatment, but not gung-ho to start a conversation either. If I see him, he nods. Says hello, how ya doing. Other than that, he’s shut me out. I haven’t seen his name on my phone since December. Not that I want him to be texting and calling constantly, but I was hoping maybe one day we could be friends.

And while his friendship with Ryder was short-lived, at least they’re still performing on the ice.

We’re definitely going to win our conference and make it to the championship. The Briar men probably won’t win the conference, but they’re in good shape get a bid for the tournament.

It’s February and blisteringly cold outside when we leave the Graham Center gloved hand in gloved hand. I’m griping because despite what Al Dustin said, there’s still no word from Brad Fairlee.

“I was hoping I would hear in January at the latest,” I grumble, my breath coming out in white puffs. “Because then I could be training with them and maybe even play in Worlds.”

The Worlds game is in May, only two months away. Unlike Ryder, I’ve never actually competed in an international event. And, yes, I knew it was going to be a long shot. They don’t just put you on the team and throw you on the world stage. But I was still hopeful I’d receive some sort of news by now.

We walk to his Jeep and he unlocks the doors for us. I eagerly jump in the passenger seat and fumble for the seat warmers. It’s freezing out.

“The guys are throwing a party tonight,” Ryder says. “You in?”

“Sure. Can I invite Diana? We spoke earlier and she said she felt like going out.”

“Yeah, of course. Ask Mya too.”

“She has a date tonight.”

Because of the frigid weather, the party is primarily indoors. But every now and then someone goes out to smoke a joint or a cigarette, and a gust of icy air slams through the house and brings a chill to my bones.

There’s a competitive game of beer pong happening in the kitchen. A solo match between Diana and Shane. Diana, who must have been a polar bear in a previous life because she never gets cold, wears a short skirt and halter top, drawing the eyes of nearly every guy in the kitchen. She just landed a perfect shot that plopped in the cup in front of Shane. Beer splashes over the rim and soaks the front of his T-shirt.

“Did you have to put that much heat behind it?” he grumbles.

“Sure did,” she chirps.

Their game continues with a fair amount of trash talk, ending after Diana beats his ass and saunters down the table toward him.

“Are you feeling under the weather tonight? Because I’m still waiting for you to flirt with me,” Diana says, her sweet smile belied by her mocking green eyes.

“Why would I do that?” Shane drawls.

“I’m a cheerleader.”

He narrows his eyes.

“I thought that was your thing. Bang anyone in a cheer skirt and then leave them brokenhearted and distracted, making me clean up your mess at practice.”

Flicking up an eyebrow, she sashays past him without a backward look.

Shane turns to me. “Your girl’s got a mouth on her.”

“Stop breaking all her friends’ hearts,” I reply with a shrug, and Ryder chuckles.

Glaring at me, he wanders into the living room.

Beyond the doorway, I spot Beckett and Will in the corner with a dark-haired girl sandwiched between them. Will whispers something in her ear, while Beckett lazily runs his fingers along her arm.

I glance at Ryder. “I can’t figure out if they’re competing or teaming up.”

“Probably the latter.” He looks like he has more to say, then shrugs.

“What?” I demand. “Do you have gossip?”

“No. Because I don’t gossip. I’m a grown man.”

“Do Will and Beck ever hook up?”

I still don’t know Beckett well enough, but I try to remember if I’ve ever caught any bi vibes from Will. No. He’s always seemed solidly hetero.

“Do they?” I push when Ryder doesn’t respond.

He shrugs again. “Nah, I think they’re both into women.” A pause. “They have a lot of threesomes.”

“Oh my God, really?”

“Don’t say anything,” my boyfriend warns. “Larsen is such a choir boy. Shane commented on their extracurriculars once, and Will looked like he was going to throw up.”

Yeah, that’s why I’m surprised to hear it. Will truly is the boy next door. How on earth was he able to be corrupted like this?

Beckett Dunne is a powerful force, I suppose.

Then again, who am I to talk? I’m going around banging guys in opera boxes and saunas.