Chapter 7: Blue Buffs and Blushing

A couple days later, after making breakfast, he was heading out again. He always announced his departures like he was clocking out of work.

Still said he’d bring back lunch for me. I wanted to say he didn’t have to, but the words caught in my throat.

I wanted to say I could just order takeout, but he didn’t give me a chance—just left after speaking. The apartment door shut with a soft click, leaving a small ache in the air.

At noon I ate some chips, then got bored waiting, so I decided to play a game. My keyboard felt extra clicky, the apartment quieter than ever.

As soon as I logged in, I got a bunch of team invites. I picked my roommate’s. The little notification bubble felt oddly comforting.

Unexpectedly, after I joined, she pulled in our gaming club’s senior.

The senior is a good guy, always looking out for us, but I can tell he’s interested in me. He’s the type who offers to walk you home even if it’s a sunny afternoon.

Normally I avoid him, making it clear I’m not interested, but today I ran into him again. Awkward.

“I’ve never played a game with Emily before.”

The senior smiled and turned on his mic, and my roommate started the game right away. His voice was friendly—too friendly.

The senior is pretty good, and after he got a triple kill, my roommate and I praised him.

“Triple kill, senior, you’re awesome.”

The apartment door clicked open, and just as I finished speaking, Ryan walked in carrying a lunch box. We made eye contact. He looked at me, then the screen, then back at me—eyebrows slightly raised.

On the phone, the senior was still modestly saying it was nothing, then his clear voice came through, “Emily, come get the blue buff.”

I saw Ryan’s face darken, his eyebrows raised as he put the lunch box in front of me. The kitchen felt colder for a second.

I spoke into the mic, “No need,” and quickly muted it. My voice was higher than usual, almost squeaky.

“You’re back.”

He sneered, “Obviously.”

I smiled awkwardly, but he suddenly came closer and leaned in, voice low and rough. “You seeing someone?” The words hung in the air, heavier than I expected.

It was out of nowhere, and I could sense the warning in his tone. My face heated up instantly.

I shook my head in a panic, not wanting him to misunderstand.

“I’m just playing with my roommate and a senior, all friends.”

He seemed relieved, reached out and ruffled my hair, warning me fiercely, “You’d better not be. If you are, I’m telling your brother.”

My heart beat wildly. After he went upstairs, my senior and roommate asked why I wasn’t talking.

I inexplicably lowered my head and smiled, turned on the mic and told them I wasn’t playing anymore.

I watched the sunlight crawl across the kitchen tile, my heart pounding with hope. Maybe—just maybe—Ryan Carter noticed me too. And this summer, anything could happen.