Maybe that saying about nice guys finishing last was actually true.

  I sighed in frustration and tried to focus again on the chem notes in front of me. The chapter quiz was on my computer, and I’d already gotten three questions out of ten wrong.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, I couldn’t help but look at the list of the rest of the things I needed to do tonight in front of me. This chem quiz was only the second thing on that list.

  So I went through the quiz, not even fully trying and not surprised when I got a failing grade at the end.

  With a sigh of frustration, I opened up the essay due the next day for my literature class. The professor had us turning in an essay every freaking week. I was pretty sick of it.

  If numbers were my strength, written words definitely weren't. At least this essay was mostly done. It had been really slow at the tutoring center last night, so I’d done most of it then then.

  I just had to finish writing the conclusion, go over it, and turn that in tonight. That didn’t take too long.

  By the time I hit submit, my phone went off. I ignored it.

  Tommy came in, but I didn’t even turn around to say hi.

  “What’s up?” he asked, setting his stuff down. He turned on the TV. “You been here all afternoon?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. You have dinner yet?”

  He burped in response. I had another solo dinner head of me. Which was fine because I didn’t really feel like talking to anybody else.

  My first year of college would’ve probably been going way better if I stopped focusing on girls like Brooklyn so much and instead just focused on keeping my grades up.

  If I wasn’t careful, I would get less than a B average this semester and lose my scholarship next year. I’d only gotten that scholarship because of my good grades, but if I didn’t keep them up, the scholarships would get taken away. And they already didn’t cover all my expenses.

  I grabbed my history textbook and climbed up into bed to do tonight’s reading. I had three chapters left to read before I could finally head to a late dinner.

  I got comfortable and opened up my book. My phone vibrated again, and I sighed, looking at it.

  Sara: Hey, what are you up to?

  Adam: Just doing the reading for class tomorrow. Have you done it yet?

  Sara: Oops. I forgot about that.

  Maybe she was too busy hanging out with Brian to remember to do little things like assigned reading. I immediately felt kind of bad for thinking that. Sara was a good person and so was Brian. And as her friend, I was happy for her, for the both of them.

  Me having a rough couple of days was no excuse.

  Sara: So how was your day?

  Adam: Okay. You have dinner yet?

  Sara: Yeah sorry I just ate. You?

  So much for housing some last hope.

  The annoyed part of me just wanted to stay in bed. But my stomach protested.

  Time to get my full money's worth out of that student meal plan.

  I texted Sara that I’d see her tomorrow in class, and I got out of bed. I’d read one chapter so far. The other two could wait.

  I grabbed my keys and told Tommy that I’d be back later. The 24-hour dining hall was across campus so it’d be a lot faster if I got in my own car and drove there, even if I did have to find parking.

  A few minutes later, I pulled into the parking complex across the street from the dining hall. The place was pretty much empty except for a few students here and there who were obviously pulling all nighters from the stacks of books strewn across their tables. Others laughed and talked loudly, hanging out with friends.

  I found a table away from everybody and sat down to eat by myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about Brooklyn and the fact that she was back with Ethan. Like nothing had happened.

  I didn’t know much about them or their relationship. I’d only met her a couple months ago. But I thought I knew her well enough to guess that she wouldn't go back to that jerk.

  He really was a jerk.

  That much was clear. Ethan didn’t deserve a girl like Brooklyn. She deserved so much better.

  After hanging out with her last week, I thought maybe we had a chance, but clearly she still loved that guy.

  I tried to push her out of my mind as I ate my slice of pizza. Last year, when I thought of myself in my first semester of college, I never thought I’d be here alone.

  I thought I'd be with Sara, both of us surrounded by friends at all times, laughing and hanging out. Struggling with our classes but getting by. Meeting new friends.

  Some of that was true. We had made some new friends.

  But I never imagined I'd meet someone like Brooklyn, or that I’d lose her just like I had Sara.

  The next morning after history class, Sara walked with me toward the bus stop. "So how did you do on the pop quiz? I'm pretty sure I bombed it. I forgot to do that stupid reading last night after I talked to you,” she said, adjusting the straps of her book bag on her shoulders.

  We made our way through the crowd of students.

  I shrugged. "I think I did okay."

  Sara scoffed. "Please, you just don't want to brag to my face. You probably aced it, didn't you?"

  All I did was smile a little but kept my gaze straight ahead. I didn’t really feel like talking. Normally, I would’ve bragged just a little to get on her nerves. Because I loved it when she got a little feisty.

  But not today.

  I had barely passed that quiz. I had definitely not aced it.

  We took a seat at our usual bench near the bus stop.

  Sara looked at me. "You know what? That quiz made me hungry, even if I did flunk it. You want to go grab some lunch?" She nudged me. “I could really go for a Philly cheese sandwich from the dining hall.”

  I glanced at her. "You usually have lunch with Brian."

  She shrugged. "Usually, yeah. But today he has to work, and I feel like having lunch with you anyways," she said with a smile.

  I glanced down. "Sure, why not?"

  It sure beat having lunch by myself. Or no lunch at all. The plan had been to go to go straight to the library and do homework. Leave lunch for later.

  We walked over to the closest dining hall, and we eventually found a table. Unlike last night, almost every table was packed. Late breakfast/early lunch was getting started, so it was busy, crowded, and loud in there. A long line formed at every food station. It was a while before we could even sit down to eat.

  I couldn’t help but think about how much homework I could've gotten done by then, but I also really liked it when I got to spend time with Sara, just the both of us.

  Sara twirled some spaghetti around her fork. “The way the professor talks about the Civil War, you’d think he lived through it,” she said.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “He probably did. Have you seen him? He looks like he could be a couple of hundred years old."

  “Remember that one time he couldn’t get the PowerPoint slides pulled up, and it turned out that the computer wasn't even on?"

  That made us both laugh.

  “He is definitely old-school," I replied.

  A while later, after catching up on everything from classes to TV tp holiday plans, I opened my mouth to say that I should probably really get going to the library. Otherwise, I wasn’t going to have any time before my next class to get started on homework.

  But then Sara asked, "So how are things with, what's her name? Brooklyn? And the whole volleyball thing? I hear your team is practically undefeated. And I hear it’s because of her. She hasn't been giving you any one-on-one tutoring, has she?" She winked as she ate some fruit off her plate.

  I looked down at my plate. “I don't know. I haven't really seen Brooklyn lately. But we have another game next week."

  Sara furrowed her brow. “I thought you were tutoring her?"

  "Yeah but not recently.” I said, hoping she’d get the hint that I didn’t really want to talk about it.

  “What's going on between you two?” she asked, setting her fork down. “It seemed like you guys had a thing going on.”

  I realized I’d been tapping my foot under the table so I stopped. “Uh, no. She has a boyfriend."

  Now Sara stopped, just staring and waiting for me to go on.

  “They were broken up, but they got back together." I tried to sound casual about it, but I refused to meet Sara’s eyes.

  “Are you serious?” she cried. “She led you on and then she got back together with her ex?”

  And then I saw the same look come over Sara’s face that Shelley's gave me the other day

  Pity. And a little guilt.

  Because last year the two of us had almost gotten together until she’d decided she wanted to be with Brian instead.

  "Sorry,” she said, casting her gaze down.

  "Not your fault," I replied quickly.

  Why did I get the feeling she wasn’t just saying sorry for what had happened with Brooklyn, but for what had happened between the both of us too?

  With a confused expression, she went on. “Why would she get back with him, though? It seemed like she was into you."

  I shrugged. ”I don't know about that. I mean, I thought so too. We—we were starting to get close, but I guess she ended up giving her ex another chance."

  She sighed. “I can't believe it. She really did seem like a nice person."

  "I guess she is. Maybe too nice. I’m telling you, I hate that guy. You should see the way he treats her.“ I shook my head.

  She put her hand on mine. “Well, it’s her loss. She is missing out on a really great guy by going back to him. And when she realizes it, it's going to be too late.” She paused for a second, then exhaled. “I just know that sooner or later you’re going to find this awesome person, Adam, and you’re going to wonder where she was all your life."

  I smiled at her for saying that, but I wondered for a second if that person wasn’t her.

  We finally went our own ways, but not before Sara gave me a hug. "Have a happy Thanksgiving, Adam," she said. "Remember to take care of yourself. You’ll text me?"

  I nodded and hug her back. “Yeah. You too."

  I watched her walk off towards Brian's car, get in, and leave.

  Sara and Brian were still going pretty strong, but you never knew. A small part of me still loved her and wished we would've had our chance together.

  But in that moment, I hurt for Brooklyn even more.

  That’s what I got for falling for another amazing girl.

  I headed to my mom’s for the first part of Thanksgiving break. Even though I had a week off, I had a big paper due plus finals to study for. She was relatively close, which meant I’d get plenty of stuff done. Plus I missed her cooking.

  Then I’d visit my dad and little brother for a few days after that. They were farther away. But I’d be back in time to spend Thanksgiving Day with Mom since Dad had Wes. I didn’t want either of them to be alone.

  Our last volleyball game was supposed to be before break, but it had gotten rescheduled due to stormy weather. So the big championship game wouldn’t happen until after Thanksgiving.

  So eventually, I’d have to see Brooklyn again.

  As fun as it had been to be on the team, I was really glad there was just one more game left. Then we could each go our separate ways.

  Besides, if she needed tutoring, I was sure Heather would be more than happy to help her. I doubted she wanted anything to do with me anymore.

  And I kinda felt the same way.

  The weekend after Thanksgiving, I sat at my mom’s dining table with my books and notes out. I was already gearing up for finals, wanting to finish out the semester with as many A’s and B’s as possible. I’d failed a few quizzes throughout the semester, but it was nothing I couldn’t bounce back from if I did well on my final exams.

  Mom stood at the stove, whipping up dinner for the two of us. Grabbing a mitt, she pulled a tray out of the oven. After letting the contents cool, she gently set down a plate of brownies in front of me, as if the slightest noise would break my concentration.

  I smiled up at her and eagerly grabbed a brownie.

  “Milk?" she asked.

  I nodded, biting into a warm gooey brownie. “Hm, yeah, please.”

  In a flash, she set down a glass of milk in front of me.

  “Thanks, mom.”

  I went back to studying, but a few minutes later, my head felt like mush. It was time for a break.

  I closed my textbook, and as if on cue, Mom began rapid-firing questions at me. About school, my friends, and everything in between.

  "School is good, Mom. Passing all my classes and everything. My roommate Tommy is pretty cool, and I've made some other friends too.”

  She mixed something in a sauce pan and glanced back at me. “Are you still friends with that nice girl? What's her name?"

  "Sara? Yeah, we still talk. We have history together.”

  "Any other girls I should know about?" she teased.

  I shook my head and grabbed another brownie. “Nope. No one else.” Deciding I had some questions of my own, I said, “What about you, mom? Any old geezers I should know about?" I held back a laugh.

  Expecting her to scoff, I froze when she remained suspiciously silent. "Who?” I asked, putting down the brownie.

  She hesitated. “Well, now that you mention it… I did meet a very nice man."

  I noticed the way she refused to even look my way. "You met somebody?"

  She laughed nervously. “Well, don't say it like that. I’d like to think I still got it,” she said with a little shimmy as she walked around the kitchen.

  Part of the brownie came back up, and I forced it down. “Who?” I managed.

  I had gotten used to her being single. Now that she wasn’t, it was just…weird.

  Well, I supposed I couldn’t be too riled up about it. My dad had seen at least a couple of women since their divorce, even if it hadn’t anything serious. I’d never mention it to my mom, though, even when she asked about him dating.

  Mom finally answered my question. “Well, I met him online—”

  "Online? Like on one of those dating sites?" I asked.

  "Well, honey, you're the one who suggested I get ‘back in the game’ in the first place. And there's a very nice girl that lives across the hall, and she helped me set up my profile. And at first, I didn't really find anyone worth dating. Can you believe even a few younger men asked me out?"

  I made the mistake of drinking some milk when she was talking so, naturally, I coughed and sputtered milk everywhere. She brought me several napkins, and I wiped up the mess and my face, my eyes still on her.

  “Of course, I said no,” she went on. “Although it was a good little ego boost.”

  “Mom,” I groaned.

  “I did finally meet a very nice man just a few years older than I am, and we’ve gone out twice now,” she finished.

  I could hardly tear my gaze off her as she told me about this guy. And I swore I saw a little glimmer in her eyes, one I had never seen before. Not even with my dad.

  I calmed down enough to ask her some more questions, and she kept sharing.

  Nodding, I exhaled. “Good for you mom. I’m glad you’re happy.“

  She came over and gave me a hug.

  During dinner, she said, “You know, the girl next door is very nice. You should meet her sometime. She must be around your age.“

  I gave her a smile. “No thanks, mom. I'm not into older girls."

  "Well, I guess you're right. Now that I think about it, she must be a few years older than you. She already finished college. You should probably be focusing on school anyways.”

  “Yeah,” I responded.

  But she must have caught a certain look on my face because she said, “What’s wrong? Is it your friend, Sara?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  Part of me wanted to go on and tell her about Brooklyn, but another part of me didn’t really want to talk about it anymore. There wasn’t really any more to say.

  "Another girl?" she prodded.

  I looked down but nodded. “Something like that.”

  Only the sound of silverware clinking on our dinner plates could be heard.

  “What’s her name?"

  I sighed, deciding it was better to rip off the band-aid instead of letting her get her hopes up. “It doesn't matter, Mom. Not anymore. She got back together with her ex-boyfriend.”

  She frowned. “Then I’m sure she must not have been a very smart girl if she didn't see right away what a catch you are."

  “Thanks, mom,” I said. "But I guess you have to say that, huh? Seeing as how you’re my mother.” It was supposed to come out as a joke, but I couldn’t get my tone of voice right.

  She pursed her lips. “I mean it, Adam. And don't you forget it." She picked up her fork again.

  We kept on eating in silence for a few minutes until I got the courage to ask, “Why was it so hard for you to move on from Dad? Why did it take you guys so long to split up? For you to finally leave him?" I said. “Neither of you treated each other right. You weren’t in love anymore. So why did you guys stay together so long if you guys didn’t feel the same about each other anymore?"

  Mom gave a long sigh, and she stared down at her plate for a few seconds. Knowing she was probably trying not to cry, I felt like a real jerk.

  Through a thin-lipped smile and tears in her eyes, she said, "I guess once you're in a relationship with somebody for a long time, it's really hard to leave, honey. Especially when you have children together. I guess part of it was that I always wanted things to work out with your father, and I always thought we would, at least for you. I never wanted you to grow up with two parents who weren't together."

  "But didn’t you see how unhappy we all were, even when you tried to work it out? It always led to the same thing. Why go back every time? Didn’t you guys see how miserable Wes and I were?” I finished quietly.

  I wasn’t trying to make her feel bad. She was a great mom, even more so now, but I needed to know. I needed to hear what she had to say, and these were all questions I’d asked myself since I was old enough to understand what was going on between my parents.

  A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks. I felt like dirt.

 

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