And I was here, sitting on the bleachers, having a whole argument with myself because I wasn’t regretting not going to college. Not one bit. Nope. Not at all. Except… being here, sitting here, I was regretting it. Kinda.

I mean, not a ton.

A little bit.

Somewhat.

There was a twinge, but only a twinge.

Why hadn’t I gone to college?

That’s right, because I didn’t think I was worthy of it.

I drew up short, the first time admitting that to myself.

I hadn’t thought I was worthy back then.

How fucked is that?

And now?

I was sitting here, next to Aspen, glaring at a bunch of bitches who were throwing Blaise’s girlfriend nasty glares, and I was feeling some weird déjà vu because I wanted to pull my knife out just to hear those girls gasp in fear.

I didn’t, but I wanted to. Badly.

So yeah, there was a twinge, but not enough to apply for next semester.

“Yo.” Zellman dropped down on the bleacher next to me. He gave a nod to Aspen and me before leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “How’s Dickweed doing?”

It wasn’t said with affection, but Dickweed was the reason we were all here.

Aspen laughed. “He’s doing good, but he always does good.”

She wasn’t being biased. I didn’t care for Cross’ brother, but I had to give him his due. He played hard and ruthless on the field. Today was no different. He already scored the first goal. He was currently running after another player looking like he wanted to murder him. Getting to him, he moved his feet around, and somehow the ball was kicked clean away from the opponent.

Blaise had it. He pulled it back.

Another opponent was coming from the right.

Blaise saw him.

The first opponent was coming from the left.

Blaise kicked the ball behind him to his teammate, darted past the two, and his teammate kicked it right back. It happened within three seconds, and then Blaise was off running with the ball.

Aspen sighed. “He’s got some extra energy today. He’s pissed, but I can’t figure about what.” She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “Guess I’ll find out later.”

I frowned at her. “Find out in a good way or…?”

“Oh.” She laughed. “A good way. Always a good way.”

I nodded, but still frowned.

Jordan and Cross were walking across the bleachers at the bottom, looking right at us.

Zellman shifted back, his hand raised to him.

Jordan nodded, taking the steps two at a time. Cross trekked the path coming across the bleachers straight to me, ignoring how a few of the girls were watching him the whole time. Okay. More than a few, a whole lot more.

A weird, unsettling feeling moved in my chest.