Chapter 7: Broken Play: Chapter 7

I shower quickly and change, barely registering the chatter of my teammates around me. The crisp evening air hits me as I step outside, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. It’s just studying, I remind myself. But with Madison, it’s never just anything.

The library looms ahead, its windows glowing warmly against the darkening sky. I check my watch—6:55. Perfect. I climb the steps two at a time, my heart racing in a way that has nothing to do with the climb.

I spot her immediately, tucked away in a corner table, her dark hair falling in waves around her face as she bends over a textbook. For a moment, I just watch her, drinking in the sight of her furrowed brow, the way she nibbles on her bottom lip when she’s concentrating.

‘Hey,’ I say softly, sliding into the chair across from her. Madison looks up, her hazel eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before flicking back to her textbook.

‘Hey,’ she responds, her voice quiet but not unfriendly. ‘I was starting to think you’d changed your mind.’

I glance at my watch. ‘It’s 6:59. I’m early, actually.’

The ghost of a smile tugs at her lips. ‘Always so precise.’

I shrug, pulling out my own textbook and notebook. ‘Some things never change.’

We settle in to study, me taking the chair closer to her instead of across the small table. Madison chews on the end of her pen like it personally offended her. She’s staring at the same equation she’s been stuck on for the past ten minutes, eyebrows drawn tight, hair falling in her face, with a scowl so fierce, I’m ninety percent sure the numbers are scared to rearrange themselves.

“You know the variables won’t change just because you glare at them,” I say softly, nudging her elbow with mine.

She exhales sharply through her nose. “I was good at literally every other subject. Why is math the one that makes me feel like a dumbass?”

“You’re not a dumbass.” I tap her notebook. “You just keep overthinking it.”

“I’m not overthinking,” she mutters. “I’m strategically panicking.”

I chuckle under my breath and slide my chair a little closer. Our knees bump. She doesn’t move away.

“Okay. Walk me through it,” I say, nodding at the problem. “What’s the first step?”

She huffs, leaning forward with her cheek resting in her hand. “Distribute the negative. I think. Maybe. Possibly.”

“Definitely,” I say, trying not to smile. “Here—” I take her pencil and rewrite the expression. “Negative times a positive equals…?”

“Negative,” she mumbles.

“Good. Keep going.”

She walks through the rest of it slowly, and when she gets to the right answer, her entire face lights up—briefly. Then, she immediately shakes her head like it doesn’t count.

“I had help,” she says.

“Everyone needs help sometimes,” I say quietly. “Especially when it comes to things that suck.”

Madison looks over at me, and something shifts. Her gaze softens just a fraction, like she’s letting me in even if she doesn’t mean to.

“You’ve always been annoyingly good at this stuff,” she says. “Math. People. Getting under my skin.”

I lean back in my chair, grinning. “I’ve still got it then?”

She rolls her eyes—but she’s smiling, and for just a second, everything feels like it used to. Her notebook filled with my messy handwriting. Her laugh buried behind sarcasm.

I’d live in this moment if she’d let me.

But she clears her throat and leans away a little, tugging her sleeves over her hands. “Thanks for helping,” she says, voice quiet.

“Any time,” I reply.

We settle into a comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft rustling of pages and the scratch of pencils on paper. I steal glances at Madison when I think she’s not looking, noticing the way her brow furrows when she’s stuck on a problem, the little sigh she lets out when she finally figures it out.

After about an hour, I clear my throat. “Soooo…”

Her eyes narrow as she looks up at me. “So what?”

“How’ve you been?”

She blinks slowly a couple of times, sitting up a bit and pushing back from the table.

“You show up out of the blue, transferring to the same college as me with not so much as a text, and you’re going to start our first private conversion as basic as that?” Rolling her eyes, she starts to pack up her things.

Well, shit, when she puts it that way… “It’s not like you’ve replied to the last twenty or so I’ve sent you over the last three years.”

Zipping up her bag, she stands, ready to run away it seems. She’s always been really good at that.

“Alright, I’ll give you that one. But still, a phone call would’ve been nice. You know I absolutely hate surprises—and you being here is one of epic proportions.” Turning to move away, she pushes her chair back in. I stand, grabbing my things to follow her like the lovesick fool I am.

“Mads, come on. I’m sorry, okay? I honestly hoped you’d be excited I’m here. It can be just like we always talked about in high school. Both of us, at the same college together.”

She freezes by the door, her entire body tensing. I most definitely said the wrong thing.

Slowly, she turns to look at me. Her face is guarded, but her eyes betray her real feelings, just like they always do. There’s a war of emotions playing in them right now. Too bad for her, I still know her better than anyone. I know exactly what she needs.

“It might take you some time to adjust,” I tell her, stepping around and pushing the door open, “but at the end of the day, you’re still my best friend. A little bit of time and distance doesn’t change that.”

I hold out my hand towards hers, noting the faint smirk starting to form on her lips. God, I can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like against mine, what she’d taste like.

What the fuck? You literally just told her you wanted to be her friend, dick head.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I give her my best puppy dog eyes.

“You’re joking. Jaxon, you’re freaking twenty one, not sixteen. That doesn’t work on me anymore,” she says, but I can already tell it is. I give a few fake sniffles to add to the dramatics.

A classic eye roll later, and I know I’ve won this round.

“Fine. But we have rules. Boundaries. You can’t just come back into my life and expect me to change everything to fit you in. I have other friends too, ya know.” She straightens the strap of her bag and tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “But, I’m open to being friends again.”

I can’t help the giant grin that takes over my face as I fling my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side and giving her a squeeze. Her arms instinctively wind around my waist, hugging me back.

“There she is.” She shoves me off, but I recover fast. “Oh, come on. You know you love me.”

Her tiny grin threatens to break free, but we’re interrupted by her stomach growling loud enough to wake the dead. She groans, turning her head up towards the sky.

“Exactly why I let ya walk out of the library and started leading you this way.” Pointing towards the small pizza place on campus, I direct her shoulders down the path that leads there. “You would’ve gotten us kicked out if you’d unleashed the inner monster that comes out when you’re hangry.”

Giving me a playful glare, she heads straight for the pizza joint, me right behind her.

Step one: get Madison to be my friend again. Complete. Hopefully.