I SLUMP AGAINST the counter of Baker's Dozen, groaning into the empty space.

My feet ache, my head pounds, and the only thing keeping my eyes open are the triple shot of espressos I chugged ten minutes ago.

When the bell above the door digs, I straighten myself up and stare at the register screen, methodically giving the same greeting I've repeated hundreds of times in this week alone. "Welcome to Baker's Dozen, what can I get for you today?"

"You sound so excited and happy to be here." Aleena laughs, sliding behind the counter to engulf me in an embrace.

"You know Josh doesn't like you coming behind the register, right?" I have to remind her almost every time she comes to visit me.

"Oh, Josh can bite me." She moves back to the front of the register and studies the display case of baked goods. "I want a cinnamon bun to celebrate today."

I grab a tong and bring a piece of cinnamon bun into the oven to reheat. "Did practice go well?"

"It was amazing. Darren is crazy talented and he's really been picking up on the songs and choreography. I swear, you should see us up there, we're magnetic. Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer would be clutching their pearls if they saw our performance," she says while swiping her card to pay for the food.

"Can't wait to see it." I put the freshly warmed cinnamon bun onto a plate and had it to Aleena.

Her entire journey with this play has been a rollercoaster, and I'm glad it's finally coming together. She's insanely talented, it's just too bad her parents are too stubborn to see and accept it. The case of stubborn parents seems to be an epidemic at this point. What kid doesn't suffer from it these days?

"You and Carter will be there opening night, right?"

"May 11th?" I mentally check the date in my head. "We'll be there. My pharmacology final is the next day, but I have it all figured out. I'll have time."

I've had to do a lot of re-planning in regards to my classes recently. My professors have mostly been understanding of my absence this week, but at the end of the day, I'm still responsible for making sure I learn the materials and complete the assignments one way or another. I also have to deal with the fact that I've used up all my excused absences for half of my classes. If I miss even one more for the rest of the semester, my grades will either be lowered a few percentages, or in regards to pharmacology, I'll outright fail the class.

Anything to help pay the bills, I guess.

I check the clock hanging by the side wall. Two more hours and my shift is over. Two more hours and I'll have made enough money to help my parents out, and I can see Carter again. I can't wait till I'm out of here.

I enjoy my job, don't get me wrong. The quaint Parisian vibe of the atmosphere is soothing, and the tiredly-anxious students that come in and out are pleasant for the most part, but when you've spent day after day here, from 5:30am when the store opens, to 7:00pm when the store closes, everything starts to become tiring. I'm tired of the smell, I'm tired of the same old pop songs in continuous rotation, and I'm tired of being tired. Thank god it's Friday.

"I still can't believe you two are a thing. After all you and Cory have been through, I thought it was only a matter of time before you declared your love for one another," Aleena says.

"Cory and I have never loved each other in more than a platonic way. We've always been too different for a relationship to work. Even when we would hook up, there was no feeling or passion behind it. It was just a way to be distracted and get off, honestly."

I've spent a some time thinking about my relationship with Cory, and this is the conclusion I've come to. He's a great guy, but there was never going to be a time where I liked him like I did back in high school. The time has passed and we've both changed.

"Are you absolutely sure about that? I just don't want you and Carter to start getting serious and then the typical romance movie thing happens where you realize you've wanted Cory all along by the time you're at the altar with Carter and Cory is sitting in the church with his doting fiance who ends up shocked and humiliated because Cory stands up and declares he objects to your union with Carter, so it becomes all awkward until Cory whisks you away, and you two run off into the sunset to enjoy the rest of your lives together."

"Aleena..." I stare at her with a look that expresses my full reaction, are you serious?

"Hey, it happens," She says, defensively.

"That sounds more like what would happen with you and Nelson." I counter.

"I have not talked to that man nor have I even been thinking about him. I'm surprised with myself, it's been easier than I thought," she says to my relief. "The only man I'm thinking about lately is Darren Blackburn."

"Darren?" I let out a surprising laugh.

"Because he's my costar and I've been taking him under my wing to mentor him, you know, with him being new to theater and all."

"Sure." I smile, wiggling my brows at her.

She start to get flustered, letting out a huff of breath. "I mean he's cute or whatever and like super charismatic, but you know I don't do athletes. Plus he's not my type, I'd never go for him."

I deliberately keep my mouth tight, grabbing a rag to wipe the tables. Aleena takes a seat and stays unusually quiet while she eats her cinnamon bun.

The next hour and a half passes slowly with few customers coming through. Every time it gets slow, I take a seat next to Aleena and attempt to get bits of my assignments done before I'm interrupted with another customer entering.

When 6:30 hits, Aleena begins packing her stuff.

"I'm gonna head over to the stadium for the game." she hooks her bag over her shoulder and fixes her hands to smooth down her already straight hair.

"Since when are you going to the game?" I ask.

"Darren wanted me there so he gave me a ticket, as a supportive friend, and I figured I'd be there with you to support your boyfriend as well." She tries to act nonchalant, but I can see right through it.

"He's not my boyfriend." I correct her. "Well, he hasn't asked me to be his girlfriend or anything yet, and I'm not gonna be able to make it there until eight at the latest anyways."

"I'll save a seat for you."

When she goes for the door, a slew of people start walking in and it confuses me for a moment since this is the time when it starts whining down, then I remember they're holding a slam poetry event tonight.

I say my goodbyes to Aleena and head back to the register with my laptop, when Josh, my manager, comes out from his office.

"Thanks for holding it down, Summer. They're drowning me with paperwork these days," he says, grinning.

"It's fine, it hasn't been too busy until just now." I refer to the crowded tables.

"Listen, I hate to ask you this, especially since you've put in so many hours this week, but Melissa called out when I specifically scheduled her to cover the poetry slam and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind staying an extra two hours to cover it and clean up afterwards." He pleads with sorrowful eyes and pouty lips.

I wince at the idea. I'm exhausted, I have mountains of work to catch up on, and I promised Carter I'd come to his game tonight. If I agree to cover for Melissa, I'll basically miss the entire thing.

I don't want to break my promise with Carter, not only did he sound excited about me coming to the game, but I've noticed how much it bothers him that his dad doesn't make much effort to see him play. I don't want to be another person in his life who disappoints him.

At the same time Josh has been extremely accommodating with my situation, giving me the extra hours I need and an advance on my paycheck so I can send the money to my parents on time.

I think both options through, then settle on my decision with a whiff of disappointment. I'm staying to cover the poetry slam. I owe Josh too much not to. If I rush fast enough, I could probably make it to the stadium for the last of the game. I hope it'll count for something.

Josh grateful when I agree, offering me all the leftovers I could want for the next month.

I excuse myself to the back, leaning against the pantry wall and closing my eyes to prepare myself for the extension in my shift. After an inner pep talk and glass of water, I make my way back out, sporting a bright fake smile that hides the fact that I'm dying inside.

***

I've been rushing to the stadium, literally, jogging on foot with the ten minutes feeling like sixty. I know I'm late, extremely late. The poetry slam ended up more packed than expected, and the chill poetry enthusiasts ended up being more rowdy than I thought. Dirty plates and cups littered every table, and half of the food they ordered ended up on the floor. I'm just hoping the game went into overtime, and that overtime has extended into an even longer overtime which will allow me to catch at least a portion of the game.

I don't even want to text Aleena to see. I'll live in my moment of delusion until reality is smacked back into me.

It doesn't take long for that to happen, because as soon as I make it into the building, I know things have long been over. If the closed doors and silence didn't alert me, the pitch darkness surely does.

Carter is probably back in his room by now. I lean against the door and take long drawn out breaths to get as much air back into my lungs as possible. It doesn't quite do the trick so I decide to step inside the stadium to take a seat.

When I get inside, the door almost dramatically closes shut behind me. As I turn to snarl at it for its loudness, I notice the singular sound of a ball dribbling in the otherwise empty space.

I shift back to see Carter at the other end of the court. He's stopped dribbling and stands still with the ball still in hand and his eyes glued to me. I can barely see it, but I can a hundred percent feel it. His eyes, his body, his energy, it all radiates from him to me. I take a deeper breath from it.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I got stuck at work." For some reason I yell across the court instead of moving an inch from the door to get closer.

He walks half court and stops himself. "It's cool, I figured."

He doesn't sound disappointed or hurt. His demeanor remains cool, just like he says.

"How did the game go?" I extend my voice once again, remaining in my spot and toying with my nails.

I don't know why I'm feeling shy right now, the guy had his freaking fingers inside me less than a week ago.

He curls his hand around his mouth and yells back. "If you want to know, you're gonna have to come closer, princess."

"I am?" I take two steps forward. "Is this close enough?"

"Not nearly." his voice sounds deeper and it raises goosebumps on my skin.

I take a few more steps forward, still significantly far from him. "How about this?"

"You're getting warmer, but not quite," he says.

"How about now?" I take more steps forward until I'm close enough to see his face more clearly.

He's still in his uniform, lucky number seven written on his shirt. I take him in fully—the white and red of the teams color, his long and sculpted legs in his shorts, his muscular arms in his shirt—it's hot as hell.

"If you don't come here right now I'm gonna be a very sad guy."

He tosses his ball aside and opens his arms out. 

That's all it takes for me to run towards him. He's fully ready for me when I jump up. He meets me halfway, hooking his arms under my butt and boosting me into an embrace as my legs wrap around his waist.

God, this feels amazing. Adrenaline rushes through me, my heart is pounding ,and my skin is hot. I can't remember the last time I've been this happy, and I can't entirely comprehend how amazing he makes me feel. After such a rough week, I never thought this simple moment could boost me with so much serotonin.

He connects his forehead with mine, his smile seems to transfer from him straight onto me.

"We won. We're going to the semi-finals."

Before I can congratulate him, he sinks his lips onto mine, pulling me into a deep kiss.

Either the room feels like it's spinning, or Carter's lips have magical dizzying powers. I'm choosing the latter because the more we devour each other, the harder it is for me to keep my head straight.

He kisses me like we're running out of time, like he's been waiting his whole life to kiss me, like I'm the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, and I kiss him back knowing time is of the essence, knowing I've never felt like this way in all my life, knowing he's the hottest guy in the world.

He lowers us to the ground, and I can feel his hardness under me. His large hands rub up and down my back while I run mine through his hair. God those hands. I can still remember all the amazing things those hands can do, and I'm wet and aching just from the memory.

"Congrats, I'm so proud of you." I mumble against his lips.

He stopped us and pulls me back. "You are?" He asks earnestly with such softness that I nearly melt.

"Of course I am," I say.

It's like he's never heard anyone tell him this before, or if he has, it's not very often. It makes my heart sink because I completely understand that feeling. My parents don't tell me they're proud of me, no one does. I mean, I've been a mess lately, flunking my classes and having mental breakdowns so there's not really much to be proud of anyways. Still, those little bits of encouraging words go a long way, yet we seldom hear them.

He lowers his head into the crook of my neck. "Thank you."

I kiss him on his forehead. It's a long drawn out forehead kiss to let him know I'm here for him, for us.

I move back to his lips, and attack them again. His tongue moves intricately with mines and he consumes me in whole. It feels like both our minds and bodies are connected.

We naturally fall back on the stadium floor with me lying on top of him. I tug his hair lighty and he groans, cupping my ass.

A loud sound abruptly pulls me out of my trance and I lift my head up just in time to hear the doors pushed open and a figure walking in slowly.

"Carter." I grab his shirt and attempt to get his focus off my lips.

"What the hell is going on here?" The mysterious figure has a deep and withering voice. He reaching for the switches and in one stroke, turns all the lights in the stadium back on.

I wince at the unexpected exposure and squint to readjust my eyes to such bright lights.

"Shit." Carter finally takes notice and we both panic, hurriedly getting off of each other and jumping up to stand straight.

The figure turns out to be an old man in a janitor's uniform with a broom and dustpan in hand. Based off the snarl on his face, I'm certain we weren't quick enough and he definitely caught us making out and groping each other.

"I gotta clean this place up." The man holds up his cleaning materials that look way too small to clean even a fraction of this stadium. "Are y'all gonna let me do that or what?"

"Yes." I answer quickly.

"We're sorry, we were just... we were. " Carter scratches his head, struggling to search for words in his adorable embarrassment.

"We were just leaving." I finish for him with more conviction.

Carter seems stuck and I have to physically grab his hand and and pull him so we can leave.

"Yeah, I know what y'all were doing." The janitor gives us an especially prominent scowl as we hurry past him. "Nasty ass kids," he says by the time we reach the doors.

We close the doors behind us and I burst into a fit of laughter as we walk out of the building.

"He didn't have to call us nasty," Carter says, grabbing my hand and leading me to his car.

"Could you drop me off at my dorm?" I ask when we get in.

"Sure, I just thought you might've wanted to-"

"I would," I clarify, "but I have so much work that's due by Sunday."

"Okay, I get it."

I note the sadness in his voice and it almost causes me to change my mind. 

Almost, which means I'm able to snap out of it because school comes first. I have to keep reminding myself of this more and more lately. School first, everything else later. Unless there's an emergency, and getting lost in Carter unfortunately isn't an emergency, so he'll have to wait until I finish the work I need to do.

"Would you want to-" he pauses and turns from the road to look at me with worrying eyes.

"Would I want to what?" I lean forward.

"Um, would you want to." He pauses again and it makes me more curious. 

Why does he sound so nervous? What could he possibly ask me that would make him nervous?

"Would you want to split some Oreo's I have before I drop you off?" He finally says.

I let out a breath and laugh, then disappointment settles on me. I almost thought he was going to ask me to be his girlfriend or something.

"Okay." I make sure he doesn't hear the disappointment in my voice.

Maybe he just wants to fool around? We haven't really talked about what it is we're doing. Without confirmation, it's all just a guessing game and I'm a little scared to ask where he wants to take things. To say I'd be heartbroken if he only wanted something casual would be an understatement.