make you miss me • q. hughes

22

"Look we can get Schuy's opinion," Ayesha says. Her smile is mischievous as I take a seat next to her.

It's been a rough day. I've been in my head all day. Messed things up at work. Broke my favorite mug. It's been a rough day and I'm not sure how much I can deal with.

Taylor beams. "This seems like an easy win for me."

"Sure, it does." Inola rolls her eyes and then nods toward another table, pointing discreetly at a guy. A familiar guy. "What do you think of him?"

Quinn's laughing softly with the two guys he's with. I kind of recognize one of them from watching games. The other is facing the other way so I couldn't recognize him if I wanted to. What are the fucking chances of Quinn being literally everywhere? Like, come on. I went two months without running into him and now he's everywhere. It's ridiculous.

He's wearing a white long sleeve and I have to fight the urge not to text him right then and there. It's been over a week since we saw each other and the last time we talked was a brief text conversation about the jersey.

"Think of him?" I echo.

"Mia and I think he's fine as fuck," Taylor explains. "Ayesha, of course, doesn't think so and neither does Inola."

Ayesha laughs, offended. "Hey, I can tell when a guy is fine as fuck even if I don't want to fuck him."

"So what is it?" Mia asks me.

This is bad. Being a tiebreaker in a group of people who like me is much easier than this. What if the side I don't choose throws it on their list of things against me? What if they somehow know about me and Quinn and are making fun of me? Did Ayesha tell them? Did she betray me? No, let's not go there.

I shrug with a fake smile. "He's alright."

"Look at how he looks in such a simple shirt and tell me he's alright again," Taylor says. "But, if you don't have any strong feelings about him, you could play wingman for me?"

A bitter taste fills my mouth. An overall gross feeling takes over my body. It's in the curls of my too-dark hair, over the bump to my nose, the entire length of my body. Every last part of me hates the thought of playing wingman for a girl who doesn't even like me. For the guy who has picked two other girls over me before.

I don't know what's wrong with me. One bad day and I regress into seventeen-year-old Scout. Insecure and without a guiding brother for the first time in her life. No one to hold her hand and she goes off the deep end. Every slight inconvenience always sends me tumbling down that rabbit hole of comparison. I'm always the underdog in my mind.

"So?" Taylor presses. Ayesha probably sends her a look because she adds a slightly annoyed, "I mean you don't have to."

"I can try," I say through the bitterness.

She beams again. "Great. Go try and get his number for me."

She could absolutely do it herself. I know it. I would give her my number in a heartbeat if I were a guy she wanted. Or even didn't want. This is a test. Something to get a good score on to get in her good books. I want these girls to like me. When you need friends, you need friends. For these bad days to not be so bad. I miss Val physically by my side.