I opted to ditch the last two periods, hitting the machines hard in the weight room. It was during last period that somebody walked into the room. With a huff, I set the bar I’d been pressing down, half expected a disgruntled teacher or an old teammate but instead, found an equally familiar face.
He took a seat on the bench nearby, hands clasped together, expression calm.
“What?” I muttered, running a hand towel over my head.
“You messaged me,” he said with a slow blink.
Yeah. Taking a seat, I grimaced at him. “It’s . . . I was drunk.”
“So?”
“So I was drunk. Forget about it,” I shrugged, dismissive.
“They’re not together,” Tim sighed. “That was what you asked, right?”
I wrung the towel in my hands, glaring downward. “It doesn’t matter.”
“
