People mad about the Espys and taking it to heart as if itās not fan voted. Itās truly not that deep, like duh the nominees with more votes will winš¤·āāļø itās an award and the people nominated are grown adults I promise theyāre ok.
Itās subjective. People have different opinions on what they think is the best and thatās ok! But like to take it to heart so deeply is pointless. No matter who wins any category someone could disagree. I feel like people forget everyone has different interests and values things differently with levels of importance in their own lives and thatās ok. But even outside of sports Iāve noticed people lack the ability to just peacefully disagree or not have things go their way.
nhl: this player wants to be traded and this player is refusing to be traded to this team and THIS player wonāt go to THAT team wow this is heating up
synopsis: You're way too trusting for your own good. Garrett realizes quickly that he has to step in to make sure you're not taken advantage of. And if he ends up getting you in the process, well, that's just a bonus.
It kind of just happened, given how impossible it was for him to take his eyes off you.
He didn't recognize you as one of Briar U's infamous puck bunnies, mainly because there wasn't a group of sophomore hockey players surrounding you. You stood near the fridge in the hockey house kitchen, nursing a red Solo cup, a cute pink purse tucked under your arm and held close to your side. The way your wide eyes wandered around the room gave him the impression that you were a little out of your depth.
If he were anything like Dean, he would've approached you already and figured out your deal.
Why did you smile politely when partygoers pushed past you?
He watched as a dude fully grabbed your hip. Your body jolted at his touch, and he could read your lips as the word sorry left them.
Sorry.
To the guy who'd touched you.
Your eyes lit up when a tall redheaded girl in an impossibly short black dress approached you. She stood in stark contrast to your mom jeans and light pink tube top.
Your friend, Garrett assumed.
She leaned down to whisper something into your ear. Your face fell for only a moment before you nodded.
He was almost sure your response was:
"Okay, that's fine."
He understood your disappointment moments later when Dean made his appearance, shirtless and drunk off his ass. He swept up your redheaded friend and started carrying her toward the back hallway.
Garrett had no excuse for not approaching you now.
If you were waiting for your friend to finish hooking up with Dean, you'd be waiting a long while.
Garrett took a swig from the one beer he was allowing himself on a night before a game.
Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea.
He recognized the guy immediately. Tall. Lanky. One of Beau's fraternity brothers. A senior on the swim team.
Mark.
Or Mateo.
Probably not Michael.
Whatever his name was, he wanted to fuck you.
Curious, Garrett decided to keep his distance. He watched from across the room as he approached the speaker blasting '80s rock music. He grabbed Logan's phone from the table and changed the song, all while keeping one eye on you.
It was almost offensive how forward the guy was being.
He had a hand on your shoulder, and he was standing so close that you were forced to tilt your head back to look at him.
"Yeah... we talked upstairs. Remember?"
You politely shook your head.
"I don't think it was me."
Your voice was sweet.
Garrett could tell that much.
Wanting to hear more of the conversation, he lowered the volume of the music.
"I know I'm so fucking drunk right now, but we ran into each other outside the bathroom. I remember. You're so hot I know I'd remember you. You don't want to kiss me again?"
He grabbed your hand.
"Uhm, no, thank you. B-but... I really don't... uhmā"
The guy started pulling.
And your feet followed.
Your eyes were panicked, but your body moved anyway.
Jesus Christ.
He wasn't getting the hint.
It didn't help that you still had that polite smile on your face.
Fuck.
Were you seriously so polite that you were going to let this idiot drag you away even though you'd clearly never met him before?
Absolutely fucking not.
Garrett's feet moved before his brain really registered what he was doing.
He shoved himself between you and Swim Team Whatever-His-Name-Was and forced your hands apart.
He wasn't trying to embarrass the guy.
He shoved his shoulder just hard enough to make him stumble.
"She said no."
"What the fuck?"
Bold and clearly running on liquid courage, the guy took a step toward Garrett.
The standoff lasted all of three seconds.
Then recognition dawned.
Because Garrett Graham was standing in front of him.
"Are you dumb?" Garrett asked. "Can't you tell she doesn't want to talk to you?"
The guy gritted his teeth.
"I was just..." He looked at you. Then back at Garrett. "She's all yours, man."
And just like that, he stumbled away in search of another vulnerable girl.
Your eyes looked just as panicked when Garrett turned back toward you.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cause a scene."
Garrett savored the chance to finally look at you up close.
Your makeup was soft. A light dusting of blush colored your cheeks. Your lips were glossy and glittered faintly under the kitchen lights.
Your hair was pulled back with a floral headband.
Worst of all, you smelled like lavender and vanilla.
Garrett stepped closer.
Shielding you from the crowd.
Blocking you in until your back met the kitchen counter.
He wasn't sure how subtle it was when he leaned closer just to breathe you in.
"I know it's your party..." you whispered.
Your voice trailed off.
You stared up at him as if he were a wolf and you were prey.
Honestly?
The comparison wasn't far off.
If Garrett had to compare you to an animal, it would be a baby deer.
Wide-eyed, nervous and completely unaware of how vulnerable you were.
"You're..."
"Garrett," he finished for you. "What's your name?"
"Y/N."
The answer came out almost too quickly.
Too trusting.
Y/N.
It bounced around inside his head while his imagination immediately started building a picture of who you were.
A picture he already suspected he'd be thinking about later tonight.
"You're not really sorry, right?" he asked. "Because that asshole was the one trying to trick you into hooking up with him."
"I don't think he was..."
Garrett stared.
You genuinely seemed to be considering it.
As if you'd only just realized the guy had been hitting on you.
"I think he was just confused."
All Garrett really knew about you was your name.
But he'd already decided you were perfect.
Seriously lacking in street smarts.
But perfect nonetheless.
His jaw ticked.
He regretted not putting the guy through the floor.
"I think he's lucky I'm a nice guy."
You completely missed the meaning behind that statement.
He could tell because you immediately replied:
"Your house is really nice too. Thank you for having me. I mean, you didn't really invite me. Dean invited my roommate, butā"
You stopped yourself.
Realizing you were rambling.
"I mean, it's a good party."
Garrett grinned.
"Thank you. Your roommate is the redhead?"
You nodded.
"She just disappeared with Dean."
"Is she your ride?"
Garrett planted a hand on either side of you.
Close enough to feel your breathing change.
Close enough to know he was overwhelming your senses.
"Yeah. I was just gonna wait for her to... you know. Get done."
"You might be waiting a while."
Your mouth parted.
Then closed.
Had that possibility genuinely not occurred to you?
"Well, that's okay." Your smile was small. "If it gets too late, I can call someone. There's this guy in my Instructional Tech class who said he'd give me a ride if I ever needed one."
Garrett's brows immediately knitted together.
"A random guy in your class?"
"He's not random. We have class together."
"Have you ever hung out with him outside of class?"
"Well, no. But he's nice. And I can't really afford an Uber all the way back to my apartment."
Another guy who wanted to fuck you.
And you had absolutely no idea.
Garrett was beginning to notice a pattern.
He was already starting to hate the idea of letting you leave this house and return to your own devices.
"Your friend kinda sucks for bringing you here and then abandoning you."
The words came out before he could stop them.
Instantly, he regretted it.
Your face fell.
"I-I wanted to come."
"You like parties?"
"I like parties."
You practically struggled to force the words out.
A terrible lie.
Your discomfort was written all over your face.
"And she's a good friend."
"Hmm."
Garrett pushed away from the counter, finally giving you room to breathe.
"There's a good chance they're going to fuck all night, Y/N. If you want to crash here, there's a spare bedroom. If not, I can drive you home. I've only had one beer."
"You don't have to do that, Garrett. It's so out of the way. I'll find a ride."
Say my name again.
Please.
"You're adorable, you know that?"
You smiled immediately.
Embarrassed.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Never," Garrett replied sincerely. "Let me drive you home."
Because an adorable little bunny like you wasn't getting into a car with some random loser from class.
"I..."
You pressed your lips together under the weight of his stare.
Had you ever told anyone no before?
"I should check in with my friend firstā"
Garrett's hand found the small of your back.
"Sure."
He guided you toward the hallway.
"If my predictions are correct, they're probably in the laundry room."
Not a single word of protest left your mouth.
The irony of the situation dawned on him. He didnāt want someone else to take advantage of you, and yet he was practically doing the same, but Garrett was nothing like the guys who only wanted to fuck you. He actually had substance that backed up his bravado. Everyone at Briar knew that, and Garrett was watching as you came to the same revelation. Hockey captain. Six-foot-whatever. He was someone not to be fucked with. Maybe thatās why your body relaxed under his touch, and you let him lead you to the end of the downstairs hallway.Ā
Garrett would bet a million dollars that his best friend Dean was fucking your red-headed friend with the door wide open. He pushed you ahead of him, his other hand finding the other side of your hip, holding you as you peeked into the doorway. As if youād seen a ghost, Garrett watches as your hands slap against your own eyes.Ā
Garrett couldnāt hold back the deep rumbling in his throat as he laughed. He took his own peek and found your red-headed friend bent over the running dryer as Dean pounded into her from behind. You turned around quickly, practically pressing your face into his chest, āOh my goodness. Why did they leave the door open?ā
āAs you can see, your friend is occupied. Are you ready to go now, princess?ā Garrett grabbed you by your chin, forcing your frightened eyes to look up at his.Ā
You nodded, long eyelashes batting up at him. He takes another mental picture for later. He imagined his cock down your throat, that same look of fear and wonder in your eyes. He clears his throat, pushing the lewd thought out of his mind, āThen letās get you home.āĀ
Your apartment building might as well have been condemned.
It was a rude thought born from privilege, but Garrett couldn't suppress the uneasy feeling creeping up the back of his neck.
Of course you lived on the worst side of town.
During the twenty-minute drive, he'd learned how you'd ended up at Briar and, subsequently, at the hockey house.
You'd transferred in January and had been forced to find housing at the last minute.
That's how you'd met Paige, the redheaded puck bunny.
Apparently, she was renting out her couch and charging you half the rent.
āIt pulls out.ā
āWhat?ā
āThe couch.ā You glanced over at him. āI'm not just sleeping on her couch. It pulls out and turns into a bed.ā
Garrett shot you an incredulous look, taking his eyes off the road for a second.
āWhere do you keep all your shit?ā
āWe turned the coat closet into my personal closet.ā You smiled proudly. āIt's actually more convenient than you'd think. And I don't have that much stuff anyway.ā
You paused before adding softly,
āThe important thing is that I'm here. You have no idea how long I've wanted to go to school here.ā
Your eyes were bright and hopeful, standing in sharp contrast to the darkness outside the Jeep.
āAnd you're an education major?ā
āYeah.ā You answered quickly, pleased that he'd remembered. āElementary education.ā
āThat's cool.ā
Garrett pulled into a parking space in front of your building and shifted the Jeep into park. The engine died and silence crept inside the vehicle.Ā
He tucked his keys into the pocket of his sweatpants before leaning across the center console and unclipping your seatbelt.
His face ended up a little closer to yours than necessary.
āI'll walk you up.ā
āYou don't have to, really.ā You offered him a small smile. āThis is already too much.ā
Too much.
The phrase irritated him more than it should have.
Was basic kindness really that foreign to you?
āI'm a gentleman, princess. Of course I have to.ā
You laughed softly.
āPaige talks all the time about how hockey players are the exact opposite of gentlemen.ā
Your roommate is an idiot, princess.
āThen let me prove her wrong.ā
The words came out low and certain.
Garrett realized, as he climbed out of the Jeep and rounded the front of the vehicle to open your door, that he'd never meant anything more.
āOh, I get it now. This is the same girl from the party.ā
Garrett watched as Dean dug into the huge pile of food on his plate. The dining hall was bustling at lunchtime, and the conversation his friends were having was almost loud enough to cloud his thoughts of you.
Almost.
Until Dean brought up Garrett's new favorite subject.
You.
āMaybe you can invite her friend over again tomorrow since Tuck has people coming over?ā
āWhoās her friend?ā Dean asked, and Garrett stared back at him, forcing his gaze to remain steady to prevent his eyes from rolling.
āThe redhead? Kinda moans like a goat?ā
Deanās lips pulled into a mischievous smile.
āAh, I see. Freaky Paige. She said her roommate was, like, a super religious virgin and then something else about her growing up in a cult. Which kinda tracks. She just stood there alone smiling at everyone the whole night.ā
āWhat the fuck? Y/N did not. And Paige is full of shit.ā
Dean chuckled.
āIt doesnāt matter. Paige said that was the last time we were hooking up because sheās getting back with her boyfriend.ā
Your roommate really sucks, Bunny.
āHereās your opportunity, G,ā Logan spoke up, abandoning whatever conversation he'd been having with Tucker. He jerked his head toward one of the double doors.
You walked through alone, your hair thrown up in a high ponytail and a pink backpack slung over your shoulder. Although you werenāt smiling, you looked happy, and Garrett could only assume youād just gotten out of class.
You headed toward the salad bar.
Garrett stood immediately.
He patted Logan on the back in gratitude before making his way over to you.
Your eyes widened in surprise before quickly brightening with unmistakable joy.
You were happy to see him.
āHey,ā he said, even though there was so much more on his mind.
You almost forgot you were filling your tray.
āHi. How are you?ā
āGood.ā
Amazing, actually. More like it, now that youāre here.
āWhat about you?ā
āIām really good. I love Mondays. No afternoon classes.ā
āSo youāre free the rest of the day?ā
Your lips parted in surprise.
You glanced down nervously as you added more toppings to your salad. Garrett followed alongside you.
āWell, yeah. I was gonna do some homework and then... start a new book.ā
Jesus.
He even found the idea of you reading alone in your apartment adorable.
āI, uh, wanted to get your number. Totally forgot to ask when I dropped you off the other night.ā
āMy number?ā
āFor chauffeuring reasons, of course. Donāt want you getting stranded and having to call Instructional Tech Guy.ā
That made you giggle.
āReally?ā
āReally.ā
You reached the end of the salad bar and started toward the register.
Garrett grabbed the tray from your hands.
āLet me get this.ā
āI-I have dining dollars, Garrett. You donāt have toāā
āSave āem.ā
Heād do any small thing he could to take care of you.
At least until he figured out how to have all of you.
Garrett could practically feel his friendsā stares as he carried your tray away and abandoned them completely.
They knew this was more than him trying to score.
Girls threw themselves at Garrett.
In all his years at Briar, heād never had to chase one.
āLet me see your phone.ā
Garrett was already reaching for it before it was halfway out of your pocket.
Your lock screen was a collage of pink aesthetic photos and an orange cat.
āYou have a cat?ā
āOh, yeah. Thatās Mouse. Iāve had him since middle school, but it didnāt feel right bringing him here. Taking him away from his home.ā
āHeās cute,ā Garrett commented as he held the phone in front of your face and unlocked it. āHey, are you religious?ā
You blinked up at him.
Up.
Because Garrett was sitting beside you and was still massive even while seated.
āNo. Uhm, not really. Wh-why do you ask?ā
Stupid, freaky Paige.
āI was, uh, just wondering where youāre from.ā
Garrett quickly learned you were from a small town in upstate New York.
From what he gathered, your home life was far from cultish. Nothing toxic.
You just seemed sheltered.
An only child.
He took the opportunity to enter his number into your phone and send himself a text.
āIām serious about calling me if you need a ride somewhere.ā
āYou make it seem like Briar is a scary place. Everyone Iāve met is very nice. Including you.ā
āIām flattered, princess. And I agree that most people are nice. But this place has freaks and weirdos, and Iād prefer it if you werenāt anywhere near them.ā
He was entitled.
What did it matter what he wanted for you?
He didnāt own you.
Heād met you two nights ago.
And yet you didnāt argue.
Almost as if you already trusted him.
āIām working to save up enough money for a car, so hopefully I wonāt have to bother you or Paige.ā
āWhere do you work?ā
The question came out a little too quickly.
Garrett reminded himself he might scare you off if he didnāt pace himself.
And you did look a little nervous.
But you were an open book.
āI always work game days at the campus bookstore, so Iāve never gone to a game. And then I nanny during the week.ā
āWell, if youāre free tonight, let me take you out.ā
āTake me out?ā
āTo dinner.ā
āOh.ā
You stared at him, eyes wide and beautiful.
āWhy?ā
āWhy dinner?ā
āA dinner date?ā
āYeah.ā
āAs friends?ā
āThe opposite, actually.ā
Your lips parted, then closed again.
Garrett watched as you intentionally took a deep breath.
In through your nose.
Out through your mouth.
āIām really trying to keep up here, Garrett.ā
Too much.
Too fast.
He was pretty sure thatās what you wanted to say.
You just didnāt want to hurt his feelings.
āHey. Relax, okay?ā
His tone softened immediately.
The deep quality of his voice remained, but there was something undeniably gentle underneath it.
āItās not a big deal. Just dinner. If you want, you could come over to my place and we could order something. Watch a movie.ā
Another deep breath.
āUhm... and then what?ā
And then heād probably kiss you. And touch you as much as he could before you became a bundle of nerves. So you werenāt completely innocent. Part of you, deep down, knew what dinner and a movie often lead to.Ā
āThereās nothing to be nervous about. I like you, Y/N.ā
āI like you too. I mean, I think youāre nice and...ā
āAnd...?ā Garrett prompted.
āHandsome.ā
You winced as soon as the word left your mouth.
Not because you didnāt mean it.
Because you were worried it was the wrong thing to say.
āIām sorry. If Iām being honest, I havenāt really been on a date since high school. And Iām a little confused that, out of all the boys at Briar, youāā
Garrett immediately shook his head.
āAre you questioning my taste?ā
āOf course not!ā you whisper-shouted.
āYouāre pretty. Youāre sweet. And I havenāt met anyone like you.ā
His gaze settled on yours.
āIād like to keep seeing you. So, Iām gonna drop you off at your apartment. You can read your book and do your homework. Then Iāll come back tonight and pick you up for our date.ā
āAre you sure?ā
Garrett gave you a look that was just stern enough to make you squirm.
āOkay, okay. That sounds... good.ā
You waited until his expression softened before taking another breath.
āNow finish your lunch, baby.ā
You nodded quickly and picked up your fork, finally beginning to eat.
part two
dividers by @/strangergraphics
pls reblog with your thoughts to be added to my off campus taglist :)
Finding out the āfriendā that consoled you and you confided in about your ex that cheated on you, hit up said ex and tried to get with him is crazy. And the fact that I find out from HIM of all people is crazier. Like I donāt care about him and donāt want him back in my life at all but why does this hurt š. Like I just cant and idk I feel like my brain is spinning. Call me childish idc but I blocked her number idc, like she texted me a TikTok an hour ago and seeing her name pop up made me upset so I blocked it for the time being bc idk what to say and I donāt have the bandwidth to deal rn. Like wdym youāve been dming him for months and trying to get with him. EW.
respectfully and lovingly, can we please not put dean di laurentis tags under other characters fics? iām seeing more logan fics than dean in THEE dean di laurentis tag after just a few seconds of scrolling. š¤
Part one: Itās complicated - Always is with you Grahams
Summary: In which Garrett Grahamās older sister (22) comes back into his life, in hopes of mending their broken relationship.
A little help from Dean Di Laurentis has you lowering your highly built walls of defence. Brick by brick he shows you exactly how you can depend on someone.
Trigger warnings: Phil Graham, mentions of abuse, complicated family/sibling dynamics.
- Series masterlist -
Itās been four years since you last saw Garrett Graham, three and a half since he cut all contact with you. But as you stand on the front porch of his college house, you canāt quite shake the tremble from your hands. Heās larger now, his short sleeve T-shirt clinging to his biceps as he folds his arms over his chest. Much like the father you share. You remind yourself theyāre not the same though. Garrett would never intentionally hurt you, but you donāt get too close. That little voice in your head telling you to be careful, donāt push your brother further away.
āWhat are you doing here?ā He says, lifting his hand and brushing the unruly curls back out of his face. āYou know what, Iām late for class. Why donāt you swing by in another four years.ā
Garrett doesnāt give you an opportunity to respond. A chuckle leaving his lips and a shake of his head as you step out of his way. You know not to get in the way of a Graham man, but you follow him anyway.
āAbout that actually,ā you call after him, half running to keep up. He doesnāt spare you a glance, his face turning left to right before he crosses the street. āIām in your class, assistant to the professor. I didnāt wanna make it awkward and Iām not expectingā¦ā
He whirls around to face you, stopping you short before you bump into him. āAnd this aināt awkward?ā Garrett raises a brow, eyes raking up and down your form. He releases a deep breath, glancing to his beeping phone in his hand. āJust leave me alone, okay.ā
You werenāt expecting much. No amount of words would ever make up for leaving him behind. Looks like time and space would be your only friend to get him to warm up to you again. Maybe you can reach out later.
The lecture hall and its tightly packed rows of students arenāt half as frightening as the Graham glare. You caught him staring at you during class, brows furrowed and fist clenched on top of his notebook. His friends beside him donāt pay too much attention, whispering between each other and smiling in your direction. A warmth youāre not familiar with. Thankfully you go by your motherās maiden name, no longer wanting to tie yourself to your fatherās legacy or cause unnecessary drama for your brother. Youāve not even packed your laptop in your bag and heās already out of the door.
You quickly learn that yesterday was game day and they lost. No doubt Philās given him his two cents. Wore him down, called him a fuck up and applied even more pressure on him to keep his head down. Whispers fill in the blanks, a gossip account telling you all the rest that you scroll through the entire profiles content on your lunch break. Least he has friends and what seems like a support system in your absence. You go through the hockey teamās socials, piece together the person your brother is today. A player on and off the ice it seems, but thereās one girl heās been pictured with multiple times recently. The same one that sat to his left between him and his friends today.
Your phone vibrates on the table, a name lighting up the screen, one youāve not seen in years.
[Garrett] - 7pm lets talk
Itās a good thing youāve stayed after hours to help grade some essays or youād never make it back to campus in time for this opportunity. You send a quick reply, tidying the papers on your desk and flicking the lamp off. The small adjoining office room that the professor lends you is the perfect place to hide away. Not that anyone would come looking for you.
The rain soaks through your clothes, umbrella inside out thanks to the wind ripping through the buildings. Youāre dripping on the front porch, teeth clattering together as you wait for someone to answer the door. Thereās muffled music and raised voices beyond the wooden exterior, footsteps thudding behind you as Garrett climbs them to you. He looks so much like your dad when heās annoyed.
āWhat are you doing here?ā He snaps. āI canāt deal with this right now.ā
āYou texted me to,ā
āNo my buddy texted you. Told him to stay out of it.ā He mumbles more to himself than you. His hand grasps your elbow tugging you inside before anyone else can see you.
The guys slumped on the sofa and sitting at the kitchen counters either donāt care about your presence or they donāt want to get into it with Garrett. He doesnāt hide his anger well, itās written all over his face. The clenched jaw, fingers digging into your flesh as he guides you upstairs and into his room. You know itās his by the Graham hockey jersey strewn across his unmade bed. A wave of nausea rolls in your stomach, that same name you tried to erase from your life that never quite left. Always looking over your shoulder before you moved on.
āLook,ā you say, shrugging out of his hold. āI know youāre mad at me and we left things on bad terms...ā you reach out, palm smoothing over his shoulder blades, but he flinches. As if your words have struck him.
āYeah, you left me remember, shouldnāt be too difficult for you to do it again.ā He pulls his hoody off, the hem of his T-shirt riding up and revealing a purple bruise on his lower back.
Itās just a bad game you tell yourself. You watched the footage of him getting slammed into the wall multiple times during the game, but you know they might not all be the cause of them. Itās easier to lie than tell the truth. Youāre not sure if Garrett knows how many excuses youāve made for Phil or that he neglected you in favour of coaching him. Sure he went to boarding school after your mother passed, but you were left at home to pick up the pieces.
āIt wasnāt the same for you, there was always college. A way out.ā Your grades had slipped during your last couples years at high school, attendance low as you hid in your room till the bruises faded. No one in your corner, so you left before your brother finished boarding school. Changed your last name and took any job you could to rent a cupboard for room. The first safe space that was yours. No raised voices or repetitive thuds through the wall.
āThereās no out with him. You shouldnāt even be here.ā He opens his bedroom door, nudging you out into the hallway. Itās slams shut as you turn back, lock clicking.
How many times had you scrambled to slide a lock into place? The knot in your stomach tightens, youāve not yet unraveled it. Thereās always that ache at the deepest pit you canāt reach. You canāt reach your brother either, so you just stare at the grains of wood running through the panel.
ā__, right?ā Someone calls your name across the hall, soft voice dragging you out of your head. You donāt know if anyoneās ever said your name so gently. The guy smiles at you, his golden blonde hair a tangled mess.
You nod, unsure of why heās extending his hand to yours and shaking it.
āDean, friend of Garrettās. Hockey team.ā
Ah, Di Laurentis. You looked through his socials, feels like you know him enough already. Trouble. He offers you an umbrella as you exit the house, but quickly takes it back at the sight of the rain pelting down on pavement. An umbrella turns into him driving you back to your tiny studio apartment off campus.
The first ten minutes he fills with small talk, well he did most of the talking. Trying to coax more than a few words out of you. He notices your trembling hands and adjusts the heaters to point at you, temperature rising as you try to warm up.
āDonāt worry about Garrett takes him a couple days to sort his head out after a bad game.ā His fingers tap on the steering wheel as he waits at a red light. āAre you alright, though?ā
You nod, fighting the urge to say itās fine. The same old rehearsed line. You settle for, āitās complicated.ā Nine times out of ten peopleāll assume itās too long to go into. No one cares not really.
Dean scoffs. āAlways is with you Grahams.ā
āNot a Graham.ā You fling your seatbelt off, opening the door as the car rolls to a stop.
āIāll let you know when Garrettās cleared his head. He could do with a sister sticking around, no idea whatās going on with him and your dad.ā He hands you your bag, fingers ghosting yours as you take it.
I hoped you enjoyed it š didnāt expect for so much interest in this story when I posted. Iām also dyslexic so there might be mistakes I miss.
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