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Just a Little Crush(48)

By:Renita Pizzitola


“Want to join us?” he asked Mason.

With a hint of a scowl, Mason stared at Ryder.

The tension radiating off him was palpable, and I stiffened.

Mason glanced at me and when our eyes met, his shoulders slumped. “Nah. I have to get to work. See you around, Brinley.”

He walked away, and I didn’t say anything about him not having to be at work until four. Maybe one day the three of us would be able to hang out. Today clearly wasn’t that day.

Though it hadn’t gone the way I’d like, I smiled at Ryder, happy he’d at least tried to bridge a friendship. “Thanks.”

His gaze shifted to me.

“For including him.”

“He’s your friend. And he cares about you. I’ve got nothing against the guy, though I don’t think the feeling is mutual.”

“He just wants what’s best for me.”

“So do I, which is why I have no plans to drive him out of your life.”

“I know. And he’ll realize that soon enough.”

Sooner rather than later, I hoped. Mason’s friendship was too important for me to lose, except I wasn’t ready to give up Ryder either. I wanted them both in my life but wasn’t sure how, or if, that was even a possibility.



After lunch, Ryder walked me back to my dorm.

“What should we do tonight?” he asked.

“I don’t care. What did—” My phone rang, cutting me off. I glanced at the screen. “That’s weird,” I murmured.

Mom never called. Especially not this time of day.

“Sorry, I need to get this.” I pulled the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mom.”

“Brinley, your grandma is in the hospital.”

“What?” My pulse raced and my palms became clammy. “What’s wrong?”

“She had a heart attack. She’s in the ICU at Memorial Hospital.”

“Oh my God. When did it happen? Is she okay?” My mind raced with questions.

“They say she’s stable.” Mom’s words had a bit of drawl to them, reminiscent of how she talked when she’d been drinking. She probably wasn’t the person to get answers from.

“Okay. I’m on my way.” I shoved my phone in my back pocket. “I have to get to the hospital. My…my grandma—”

“I’ll drive you.” Ryder looped his fingers through mine and led me to his dorm’s parking garage.

As we walked, my eyes watered and my throat tightened. A heart attack? Not Grandma. No. I couldn’t lose…I shook my head clear of undesirable thoughts.

When we reached his car, he opened the door for me. “Where are we going?”

“Memorial Hospital.”

He nodded. “Get in.”

My thoughts were muddled as I prayed for her to be all right.

Ryder reached over and held my hand. “What happened?”

“She had a heart attack. She’s in ICU.” I stared out the window.

“I’m sorry.” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

The hospital was about twenty minutes from campus. With every excruciating minute that passed, my chest clenched tighter around my heart. Each breath was strained. Losing her would be more than I could bear.

Ryder pulled along the front entrance. “I’ll park and come find you.”

“Thanks.” I rushed inside and the sterile scent surrounded me.

A gift shop sat to the left, a waiting room on the right. Farther ahead was a desk with an elderly woman perched behind it atop a stool. A placard read Help Desk. My feet carried me toward her. Words tumbled from my mouth and then the lady in the red smock pointed toward elevators.

I stood in front of the shiny metal doors waiting for the elevator to arrive on the ground floor. It finally dinged and I lurched inside and pressed the number three repeatedly until the doors glided closed.

With a bounce the elevator stopped, the doors peeled apart and I slipped between them. I approached the semicircular counter, and a girl in scrubs, probably not much older than me, looked up from a computer.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I’m looking for—”

“Brinley.” My mother’s voice came from behind me.

My spine stiffened. The drawn-out way she’d said my name was all too familiar.

The nurse stared at her.

“Hey, Mom,” I said as I turned.

She squinted her bloodshot eyes as she focused on me. She ran her palm over her uncombed hair and sighed. She looked like shit, but it wasn’t from stress or grief. No. Mom was drunk.

With pursed lips, the nurse eyed her then returned her attention to the computer.

I stepped toward Mom and kept my voice low. “Where’s Grandma?”

She moved in slow motion as she pointed over her shoulder. “Room six.”