Free Rounding Third by Michelle Lynn

easiness of our lives then.
    “Thanks.” I slide my arms in and zip up the front, instantly warming me.
    Continuing down the lit path, we venture toward his truck in the parking lot. Our conversation slows, but there’s a sense of comfort in the silence. He’s a gentleman, as always, opening my door and shutting it, and then he climbs into his own side.
    “Who would have thought?” he asks after we’ve pulled out onto the street that serves as the main artery in and out of campus.
    “Yeah.” I stop before I say that they remind me of us. “They’re cute together.”
    “Yeah.” His voice is shallow.
    I wish I could slide up to him and say, Not as cute as us .
    My stomach twists. We’ll never be that couple again.
    My hand stretches over the console, and I link my fingers with his on the steering wheel. He accepts my offer, eyeing me from the corner of his vision.
    “What are you doing?” he asks.
    “I don’t know. Seeing them made me miss something.”
    “Us?” His body stiffens, and his fingers go limp as he waits for my answer.
    “Yeah.”
    He silences and doesn’t ask any more questions.
    I wish things with Liam were like how they were with Crosby. Maybe then I wouldn’t be this unsatisfied in our relationship and ache for Crosby the way I do.
    A few minutes later, Crosby parks his truck in front of my apartment complex. Jen’s light is glowing through her curtains, and I glance at the clock. It’s Thursday night at ten o’clock, so she’s probably glamorizing herself up for the bars. A second later, my neighbors walk out of their apartment, sauntering down the cement path in their short skirts and skimpy shirts. Neither is in a relationship, and they’re currently not looking for more than a night. Usually, Jen accompanies them on nights I don’t go.
    As they pass, they glance over and wave. Approaching the truck is Gretchen, the taller and slimmer blonde of the two—although you can barely tell the difference between a size two and size four. I slide my hand from Crosby’s. He huffs, bringing it to the steering wheel where he tightens his grip until his knuckles turn white.
    “I’m sorry. It’s just—”
    “It’s fine,” he murmurs.
    He shows no hint of understanding that Gretchen doesn’t know who he is. All she knows is that I have a boyfriend.
    I roll down the window. “Hey, Gretchen,” I greet her.
    Lily follows her over.
    “Are you going out tonight?” Gretchen’s question is directed toward me, but her eyes are devouring Crosby like she’s a hawk and he’s the roadkill splattered across the road.
    “I don’t think so,” I answer.
    But she doesn’t catch my answer. Her mouth hangs open as her eyes admire Crosby.
    “I’m sorry. What? Who’s your friend?” She shakes her head, making her blonde strands wave back and forth.
    “Gretchen and Lily, this is Crosby. Crosby, these are my neighbors.” I do my due diligence and introduce them secretly hoping they don’t proposition him to go out with them tonight.
    “Hey.” Gretchen’s voice is laced with seduction.
    I’d never been one of those girls who could have a guy drooling at my foot with one word and a little twirl of my hair. Gretchen and Lily constantly brag about how they never pay for a drink, whereas I stash a twenty in my pocket.
    “What’s up?” Crosby tosses his head, and then his eyes study the dashboard while his fingernail digs into the stitching of the steering wheel.
    “Where’s Liam?” Lily interrupts the silence.
    Anyone can figure out why she’s asking. An exasperated, long sigh leaves Crosby’s throat.
    “I’m not sure,” I answer truthfully. Last I knew, he messaged me at lunch to say he’d be at the lab for a few hours.
    “But you guys are still together?” Lily pries.
    Is this some interrogation she learned from her criminal justice classes?
    “Yeah,” I murmur.
    Another sigh rumbles out of Crosby.
    “Well, if you and Crosby want to come out, we’ll be at Mind-Numbing.”