That night, my phone buzzed with the familiar chime of a FaceTime call. I was curled up on my bed, trying to read, but the words were blurring together, my mind a mess of guilt and a treacherous, unwelcome excitement. I scrambled to grab my phone, my heart leaping into my throat. It was Jude. I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself, to push away the memory of Noah’s smile, of the word "date" hanging in the air like a shimmering, forbidden fruit."Hey, baby," he said, his voice a low, tired rumble. He was in his dorm room, the background quiet, a stark contrast to the last call. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and a crease of concentration between his brows. "Sorry I haven't called. It's been a hell of a couple of days. Practice was brutal—Coach is trying some new defensive scheme and it's a nightmare. And I had a huge physics exam that I'm pretty sure I failed.""I'm sorry," I said, my voice soft, my guilt a physical weight in my chest. "That sounds rough.
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