Invictus
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 7223
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
Easy on my boy Cam, he just trying to have someone to drink his sorrows away with
She's not trying to do anything of the sort, sir. That's a slippery slope to prostitution and two children with a man who lives across the country from you and your children.
Man can't have some buyers remorse on a decision he didn't take enough time and priority to ensure was the right one due to grief?
What about the children??
Syracuse ain't in the wrong by no means - it just isn't the move for a high-caliber talent such as our protagonist.
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 7223
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
(5-4, 3-3 ACC) 
@
(8-2, 0-0 IND)
@(8-2, 0-0 IND)Fighting Irish outpaces Orange behind smothering ground game
‣ Fighting Irish edge rusher Trey White was an absolute terror to Ajani Sheppard and the Syracuse Orange offense this week
‣ Fighting Irish edge rusher Trey White was an absolute terror to Ajani Sheppard and the Syracuse Orange offense this week
Score
| FINAL | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | T |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Syracuse | 0 | 10 | 0 | 0 | 10 |
| Notre Dame | 6 | 17 | 10 | 10 | 43 |
Scoring Summary
1st Quarter
(4:46) Gi'Bran Payne, 1-yard run (Missed kick) [CUSE 0 - 6 ND]2nd Quarter
(10:28) Freddie Brock, 22-yard run (Marcello Diomede kick) [CUSE 0 - 13 ND] (9:45) Freddie Brock, 3-yard run (Marcello Diomede kick) [CUSE 0 - 20 ND]
(6:09) Zane Jones, 5-yard pass from Ajani Sheppard (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 7 - 20 ND] (1:39) Marcello Diomede, 50-yard field goal [CUSE 7 - 23 ND] (0:01) Jaydn Oh, 42-yard field goal [CUSE 10 - 23 ND]3rd Quarter
(7:37) Marcello Diomede, 49-yard field goal [CUSE 10 - 26 ND] (2:24) C.J. Carr, 9-yard run (Marcello Diomede kick) [CUSE 10 - 33 ND]4th Quarter
(9:30) Omar Cooper, 21-yard pass from C.J. Carr (Marcello Diomede kick) [CUSE 10 - 40 ND] (7:19) Marcello Diomede, 29-yard field goal [CUSE 10 - 43 ND]Team Statistics
QB Ajani Sheppard: 21-38, 171 passing yards, touchdown, 4 interceptions QB C.J. Carr: 15-30, 182 passing yards, touchdown, 13 carries, 80 rushing yards, touchdown HB Yasin Willis: 7 carries, 15 rushing yards HB Freddie Brock: 24 carries, 89 rushing yards, 2 touchdowns, 2 catches, 15 receiving yards WR Zane Jones: 6 catches, 60 receiving yards, touchdown WR Johntay Cook II: 7 catches, 55 receiving yards TE Daunte Bacheyie: 4 catches, 33 receiving yards WR Jaedn Skeete: 4 catches, 29 receiving yards WR Omar Cooper Jr: 5 catches, 82 receiving yards, touchdown WR Cam Williams: 3 catches, 43 receiving yards TE Ty Washington: 5 catches, 42 receiving yards MIKE Fran Brown Jr: 11 tackles, pass breakup EDGE King Joseph Edwards: 5 tackles, tackle for loss CB Demetres Samuel Jr: 8 tackles EDGE Jo'Laison Landry: 2 tackles, tackle for loss, sack SAM Rasheem Biles: 7 tackles, 3 tackles for loss, 2 sacks EDGE Trey White: 6 tackles, 5 tackles for loss, 3.5 sacks WILL Jaylen Sneed: 6 tackles, 2 tackles for loss FS Ben Minich: 4 tackles, 3 interceptions, pass breakup
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 7223
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
Quit is doing a lot of work in that sentence - Zane looked up and saw that wack ass ball and just couldn't fathom that it was thrown
It wasn't our best game, that much I can admit
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 7223
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
Season VI | Episode 1 - Opalite
The back booth of the campus bar had become a temporary refuge for the Syracuse players.
Not that there was much celebrating to do.
The five of them sat crowded around the table - Zane, Johntay, Damien, Tyshawn, and Jaedn - nursing beers poured from the pitchers scattered between them. The golden liquid sloshed whenever someone leaned too heavily against the table.
It had not been long since the Orange returned from South Bend and the mood reflected it.
Notre Dame had absolutely throttled them. 43-10.
The score still sat heavy in everyone's stomach. The bar itself was quieter than usual.
The late hour had driven most students elsewhere, and the colder weather had pushed much of the party crowd downtown or into packed house parties. Outside, the wind rattled against the windows while the occasional group of students hurried along the sidewalk.
Personally, Zane was thankful for the quieter atmosphere. He had never enjoyed partying much to begin with.
After a loss like that? Even less.
His phone lit up beside his glass.
Marie.
You guys make it back okay?
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He typed out a quick response.
Made it in safe. Having a few late-night drinks with the fellas.
Before he could lock the screen again, Johntay leaned over his shoulder.
"Ohhh, shit."
Zane rolled his eyes immediately.
Johntay pointed toward the phone. "You finally got yourself a new girl?"
Zane shrugged before taking another sip of beer. "I guess so."
The answer earned a chorus of interested looks from around the table.
"We haven't really made anything official."
Johntay nodded approvingly.
"That's what's up."
Across from them, Damien scoffed. His speech carried the slightest slur now.
"I don't understand how someone like you ain't picking up a different bitch every other night." He shook his head dramatically.
"If I was you, I'd be batting them hoes off me."
That earned a laugh from Tyshawn. Zane thought about it for a moment before answering.
"I don't really see it like that."
Damien raised an eyebrow. Zane shrugged.
"Fucking every woman that gives me the time of day don't seem like the thing to do." He paused.
"Now all these women get to walk around saying I fucked them; out here comparing notes and shit?"
The table immediately started laughing.
"I ain't trying to be community dick."
Johntay slapped him on the back hard enough to nearly make him spill his drink.
"My nigga values himself!"
Jaedn immediately jumped in. "My boy ain't like you, Dame."
He pointed directly at Damien. "Washing his meat in the sink trying to get the smut off."
The table erupted.
Damien let out an exaggerated laugh before burying himself in his beer while everyone else continued clowning him.
Zane held both hands up in mock surrender. "I'm serious, though."
The laughter slowly died down.
"I could never judge somebody for doing their thing, but I ain't trying to give my energy to that many different women."
Tyshawn immediately raised his beer. The liquid nearly spilled over the rim.
"This a nigga that was raised by a black grandma right there."
Zane laughed and lifted his own glass. Their beers clinked together for a small toast. One that earned approving nods from the rest of the table.
For a few moments, the conversation drifted elsewhere. Football Classes. The disaster that had been South Bend.
But as the noise around him faded into the background, Zane found his thoughts drifting somewhere else.
To Bianca. The realization surprised him. He didn't think about her with the same frequency anymore. She appeared less often; simply brief flashes instead of constant aches. A random thought crossing his mind before disappearing again.
He leaned back into the booth. Marie drifted into his thoughts next. He genuinely enjoyed spending time with her, more than he had expected. Nothing had happened between them. Marie seemed perfectly content with the pace things had developed.
They spent time together. Talked. Laughed. Learned about each other.
Which left Zane wondering: Was Bianca doing the same thing? Maybe she had started dating somebody.
Maybe she hadn't. Maybe she was waiting for him. The thought made him uncomfortable immediately.
He reminded himself of something he often tried not to think about. Bianca had been the one who ended things. Not him.
Maybe the contact she maintained now wasn't because she still needed him. The possibility stung more than he wanted to admit. Zane shook the thought away.
He pulled out his phone again and opened his conversation with Marie.
If you're too tired to swing by tonight, come see me tomorrow. We can watch a movie or something.
He hit send. Then he locked the screen and set the phone face down on the table. Bianca faded from his thoughts once again.
Zane leaned back into the booth and picked up his beer.
Katie was supposed to be studying.
Everything around her suggested that she was doing exactly that. A stack of textbooks sat open across the library table, each turned to a page she had intended to review before her next exam. Her laptop rested directly in front of her with a Google document open, the cursor blinking patiently against an otherwise blank page. Miley Cyrus blasted through her AirPods loudly enough to drown out the ambient noise of the library, filling her ears with lyrics she wasn't actually hearing.
None of it was accomplishing anything.
For nearly an hour, Katie had been sitting in the same position, staring somewhere beyond her computer screen without absorbing a single word in front of her.
Students drifted through the library around her carrying backpacks, coffee cups, and armfuls of books. Others occupied nearby tables, engaged in quiet conversations or bent over notes and assignments.
Through the tall windows lining the building, she could see streams of students crossing campus, hurrying toward classes, dormitories, practices, and jobs.
The university continued moving around her at its usual pace, but Katie felt detached from all of it, as though she were watching the world through a pane of glass.
No matter how hard she tried to focus on anything else, her mind always found its way back to that night.
The memories arrived without warning and rarely in any logical order. One moment she would be looking at a paragraph in her textbook, and the next she would be back inside that house.
She could feel the bass from the music vibrating through the porcelain sink beneath her fingertips. She could remember the way it rattled through the floor when she was on her knees in the bathroom. Most of all, she remembered lying flat on her stomach with tears running down her face while the party continued somewhere beyond the walls, completely indifferent to what had happened to her.
A chill ran through her despite the warmth of the library.
She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath through her nose, willing the memories to leave. It was a ritual she had repeated dozens of times over the last week. Sometimes she could push them away for a few minutes. Most of the time they lingered, hanging over her thoughts like storm clouds that refused to move on.
When she opened her eyes again, the screen of her phone had lit up beside her.
Katie stared down at it without immediately reaching for it. Her phone had become a source of guilt more than anything else. Messages continued arriving every day from teammates, classmates, and friends, and she rarely found the energy to answer any of them.
The fact that she had managed to leave her dorm room and come to the library that afternoon felt like an accomplishment. Her class attendance had deteriorated steadily, remaining just high enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention from professors or coaches.
Team workouts had become equally difficult. She still showed up, still completed every drill she was asked to do, but she moved through practices like a ghost of herself. Everything felt heavier than it used to, and she could no longer remember what it felt like to be excited about anything.
The notifications waiting for her were from Bianca.
Katie's stomach tightened immediately.
Bianca had texted several times throughout the day, checking in the same way she always did. One message explained that she was walking past the library and wanted to know if Katie needed company. Another offered to sit with her while she studied.
The messages were simple, but Katie could practically hear Bianca's voice behind them. She could picture the concern that would be written all over her face if they met in person, and the thought alone made Katie's chest feel tight.
She knew she should answer.
More than that, she knew she should tell somebody what had happened.
If there was anyone in the world she should have been able to trust with something like this, it was Bianca.
Yet every time she imagined opening her mouth and saying the words aloud, a wave of shame rose up inside her and drowned the thought before it could fully form.
Zane sat in the far corner of his couch with one arm draped across the backrest, his eyes fixed on the mounted television across the room.
The movie Marie had picked had long since reached its conclusion, the end credits now scrolling steadily against a backdrop of soft music. Neither of them had made any effort to turn it off.
On the opposite end of the couch, Marie sat with her feet tucked neatly beneath her. The oversized blanket she had claimed earlier in the evening rested across her lap as she checked the time on her phone. The glow from the screen illuminated her face briefly before she locked it and set it aside.
She looked over at him.
"What do you have going on tomorrow?"
Zane shrugged without taking his eyes off the television.
"The usual," he replied. "Practice. Meetings. More meetings. Then I've got another meeting with my agent."
Marie nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad you decided to go through with that."
That earned a glance from him. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she said. "You have enough on your plate already. Having somebody take care of the business side of things seems smart."
Zane leaned back against the couch. "I think so too. I've never really been good at that stuff."
Marie smiled faintly. "Most eighteen-year-olds aren't."
The conversation drifted into silence after that. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, at least not initially. They had spent enough time together over the last several weeks that quiet moments had become easy between them. They no longer felt obligated to fill every second with conversation.
Still, after a while, Zane noticed something different.
Marie was staring down at her hands.
Not distracted. Thinking. The distinction was subtle, but he caught it.
He turned slightly toward her.
"You okay?"
Marie took a slow breath before shifting her position on the couch. She rotated until she was facing him more directly, one arm draped over the back cushion.
For a moment, she seemed to be searching for the right words.
Then she found them.
"What are we doing?"
Zane blinked. His gaze flicked toward the television.
"You wanna watch another movie?"
A laugh escaped her despite herself. The smile that followed was warm and genuine.
"No, idiot."
Zane smiled.
Marie gestured between the two of them.
"I mean us."
The smile slipped from his face as understanding settled in.
"Oh."
He leaned back against the armrest and crossed his arms across his chest. The question wasn't unfair. If anything, it was overdue. A long sigh escaped him.
"That's a fair question."
Marie remained silent, giving him room to answer. Zane rubbed a hand against the back of his neck.
"My situation's been... complicated."
She nodded once. He continued.
"When I got to Syracuse, I was still dating my high school girlfriend. We broke up around the beginning of the season."
Marie shifted slightly, resting her head against her hand as she listened. Zane's eyes dropped toward the coffee table.
"We were together for a long time."
His voice softened.
"The breakup wasn't easy."
Marie didn't interrupt.
"She was there through some of the worst parts of my life. When my grandfather was murdered." He paused, swallowing. "She stayed. Even when I wasn't exactly easy to be around."
The memories brought a familiar ache to his chest.
"I put her through a lot while I was grieving."
The room fell quiet. Marie reached across the space between them and placed her hand gently over his. The gesture caught him off guard. Her touch was warm.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
Zane nodded.
"Thank you."
For a few moments neither of them spoke.
The television continued playing forgotten credits in the background while campus life carried on somewhere beyond the walls of the condo.
Eventually, Zane squeezed her hand lightly.
Then he looked at her. Really looked at her. At the patience she had shown him. At the way she always seemed to know when to speak and when to simply listen. At the woman who had slowly worked her way into his life without demanding anything from him.
"I really like you."
The words came easier than he expected.
A smile immediately spread across Marie's face.
"I like spending time with you. Things feel - I don’t know - easy with you. I don't have to pretend to be anybody. I don't have to explain everything."
The smile reached her eyes.
"And I like being around you."
The warmth in her expression only grew.
She tightened her hold on his hand.
"I like you too." The answer came without hesitation.
"I have for a while."
Zane felt himself smiling. Marie laughed quietly.
"I was starting to think you might never say it."
He shook his head. "I was getting there."
"Sure you were."
They shared a laugh. Then Marie's smile softened.
"I want to try this."
Zane's expression became more serious.
She continued carefully.
"I know you've got a lot going on. Football. School. Everything with your family." She paused. "And honestly, I don't know what the future looks like either."
Her thumb brushed lightly across the back of his hand.
"But right now?" She met his eyes.
"I think we should be together. At least try to be."
Something settled inside him.
The constant feeling that he needed to have every answer before moving forward. For once, none of it seemed necessary.
He simply nodded.
"I'd like that."
Marie smiled. For a brief moment, everything felt perfect. Then her expression shifted ever so slightly.
The smile remained, but there was something more thoughtful behind it now. Something she clearly needed to say.
"I don't want to compete with your ex."
The statement landed gently, but it landed nonetheless. Zane felt the truth of it immediately.
Marie held his gaze.
"I understand that there's history there. I understand things are probably unresolved in ways neither of you fully understand yet."
She took a breath.
"And I can accept that."
The smile disappeared entirely.
"What I can't accept is being kept at arm's length because of it."
A pang hit somewhere deep in Zane's chest. Not because he disagreed. Because she was right.
He nodded slowly.
"I understand."
For several seconds neither of them spoke. Then Marie stood.
Before Zane could process what she was doing, she crossed the length of the couch and settled beside him.
Close.
Close enough that he could smell her perfume.
Close enough that he could feel the warmth coming from her.
She lifted a hand to his cheek. Her eyes searched his face. Not for answers. For certainty.
Whatever she found seemed to satisfy her. She leaned forward and kissed him.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative enough to give him every opportunity to pull away. He didn't.
The distance that had existed between them for weeks vanished in an instant. When they finally separated, Marie remained close enough that their foreheads nearly touched.
Neither of them spoke. They simply looked at one another.
For the first time since she'd asked the question, neither of them seemed uncertain about what they were doing.
The back booth of the campus bar had become a temporary refuge for the Syracuse players.
Not that there was much celebrating to do.
The five of them sat crowded around the table - Zane, Johntay, Damien, Tyshawn, and Jaedn - nursing beers poured from the pitchers scattered between them. The golden liquid sloshed whenever someone leaned too heavily against the table.
It had not been long since the Orange returned from South Bend and the mood reflected it.
Notre Dame had absolutely throttled them. 43-10.
The score still sat heavy in everyone's stomach. The bar itself was quieter than usual.
The late hour had driven most students elsewhere, and the colder weather had pushed much of the party crowd downtown or into packed house parties. Outside, the wind rattled against the windows while the occasional group of students hurried along the sidewalk.
Personally, Zane was thankful for the quieter atmosphere. He had never enjoyed partying much to begin with.
After a loss like that? Even less.
His phone lit up beside his glass.
Marie.
You guys make it back okay?
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He typed out a quick response.
Made it in safe. Having a few late-night drinks with the fellas.
Before he could lock the screen again, Johntay leaned over his shoulder.
"Ohhh, shit."
Zane rolled his eyes immediately.
Johntay pointed toward the phone. "You finally got yourself a new girl?"
Zane shrugged before taking another sip of beer. "I guess so."
The answer earned a chorus of interested looks from around the table.
"We haven't really made anything official."
Johntay nodded approvingly.
"That's what's up."
Across from them, Damien scoffed. His speech carried the slightest slur now.
"I don't understand how someone like you ain't picking up a different bitch every other night." He shook his head dramatically.
"If I was you, I'd be batting them hoes off me."
That earned a laugh from Tyshawn. Zane thought about it for a moment before answering.
"I don't really see it like that."
Damien raised an eyebrow. Zane shrugged.
"Fucking every woman that gives me the time of day don't seem like the thing to do." He paused.
"Now all these women get to walk around saying I fucked them; out here comparing notes and shit?"
The table immediately started laughing.
"I ain't trying to be community dick."
Johntay slapped him on the back hard enough to nearly make him spill his drink.
"My nigga values himself!"
Jaedn immediately jumped in. "My boy ain't like you, Dame."
He pointed directly at Damien. "Washing his meat in the sink trying to get the smut off."
The table erupted.
Damien let out an exaggerated laugh before burying himself in his beer while everyone else continued clowning him.
Zane held both hands up in mock surrender. "I'm serious, though."
The laughter slowly died down.
"I could never judge somebody for doing their thing, but I ain't trying to give my energy to that many different women."
Tyshawn immediately raised his beer. The liquid nearly spilled over the rim.
"This a nigga that was raised by a black grandma right there."
Zane laughed and lifted his own glass. Their beers clinked together for a small toast. One that earned approving nods from the rest of the table.
For a few moments, the conversation drifted elsewhere. Football Classes. The disaster that had been South Bend.
But as the noise around him faded into the background, Zane found his thoughts drifting somewhere else.
To Bianca. The realization surprised him. He didn't think about her with the same frequency anymore. She appeared less often; simply brief flashes instead of constant aches. A random thought crossing his mind before disappearing again.
He leaned back into the booth. Marie drifted into his thoughts next. He genuinely enjoyed spending time with her, more than he had expected. Nothing had happened between them. Marie seemed perfectly content with the pace things had developed.
They spent time together. Talked. Laughed. Learned about each other.
Which left Zane wondering: Was Bianca doing the same thing? Maybe she had started dating somebody.
Maybe she hadn't. Maybe she was waiting for him. The thought made him uncomfortable immediately.
He reminded himself of something he often tried not to think about. Bianca had been the one who ended things. Not him.
Maybe the contact she maintained now wasn't because she still needed him. The possibility stung more than he wanted to admit. Zane shook the thought away.
He pulled out his phone again and opened his conversation with Marie.
If you're too tired to swing by tonight, come see me tomorrow. We can watch a movie or something.
He hit send. Then he locked the screen and set the phone face down on the table. Bianca faded from his thoughts once again.
Zane leaned back into the booth and picked up his beer.
***
Katie was supposed to be studying.
Everything around her suggested that she was doing exactly that. A stack of textbooks sat open across the library table, each turned to a page she had intended to review before her next exam. Her laptop rested directly in front of her with a Google document open, the cursor blinking patiently against an otherwise blank page. Miley Cyrus blasted through her AirPods loudly enough to drown out the ambient noise of the library, filling her ears with lyrics she wasn't actually hearing.
None of it was accomplishing anything.
For nearly an hour, Katie had been sitting in the same position, staring somewhere beyond her computer screen without absorbing a single word in front of her.
Students drifted through the library around her carrying backpacks, coffee cups, and armfuls of books. Others occupied nearby tables, engaged in quiet conversations or bent over notes and assignments.
Through the tall windows lining the building, she could see streams of students crossing campus, hurrying toward classes, dormitories, practices, and jobs.
The university continued moving around her at its usual pace, but Katie felt detached from all of it, as though she were watching the world through a pane of glass.
No matter how hard she tried to focus on anything else, her mind always found its way back to that night.
The memories arrived without warning and rarely in any logical order. One moment she would be looking at a paragraph in her textbook, and the next she would be back inside that house.
She could feel the bass from the music vibrating through the porcelain sink beneath her fingertips. She could remember the way it rattled through the floor when she was on her knees in the bathroom. Most of all, she remembered lying flat on her stomach with tears running down her face while the party continued somewhere beyond the walls, completely indifferent to what had happened to her.
A chill ran through her despite the warmth of the library.
She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath through her nose, willing the memories to leave. It was a ritual she had repeated dozens of times over the last week. Sometimes she could push them away for a few minutes. Most of the time they lingered, hanging over her thoughts like storm clouds that refused to move on.
When she opened her eyes again, the screen of her phone had lit up beside her.
Katie stared down at it without immediately reaching for it. Her phone had become a source of guilt more than anything else. Messages continued arriving every day from teammates, classmates, and friends, and she rarely found the energy to answer any of them.
The fact that she had managed to leave her dorm room and come to the library that afternoon felt like an accomplishment. Her class attendance had deteriorated steadily, remaining just high enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention from professors or coaches.
Team workouts had become equally difficult. She still showed up, still completed every drill she was asked to do, but she moved through practices like a ghost of herself. Everything felt heavier than it used to, and she could no longer remember what it felt like to be excited about anything.
The notifications waiting for her were from Bianca.
Katie's stomach tightened immediately.
Bianca had texted several times throughout the day, checking in the same way she always did. One message explained that she was walking past the library and wanted to know if Katie needed company. Another offered to sit with her while she studied.
The messages were simple, but Katie could practically hear Bianca's voice behind them. She could picture the concern that would be written all over her face if they met in person, and the thought alone made Katie's chest feel tight.
She knew she should answer.
More than that, she knew she should tell somebody what had happened.
If there was anyone in the world she should have been able to trust with something like this, it was Bianca.
Yet every time she imagined opening her mouth and saying the words aloud, a wave of shame rose up inside her and drowned the thought before it could fully form.
***
Zane sat in the far corner of his couch with one arm draped across the backrest, his eyes fixed on the mounted television across the room.
The movie Marie had picked had long since reached its conclusion, the end credits now scrolling steadily against a backdrop of soft music. Neither of them had made any effort to turn it off.
On the opposite end of the couch, Marie sat with her feet tucked neatly beneath her. The oversized blanket she had claimed earlier in the evening rested across her lap as she checked the time on her phone. The glow from the screen illuminated her face briefly before she locked it and set it aside.
She looked over at him.
"What do you have going on tomorrow?"
Zane shrugged without taking his eyes off the television.
"The usual," he replied. "Practice. Meetings. More meetings. Then I've got another meeting with my agent."
Marie nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad you decided to go through with that."
That earned a glance from him. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she said. "You have enough on your plate already. Having somebody take care of the business side of things seems smart."
Zane leaned back against the couch. "I think so too. I've never really been good at that stuff."
Marie smiled faintly. "Most eighteen-year-olds aren't."
The conversation drifted into silence after that. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, at least not initially. They had spent enough time together over the last several weeks that quiet moments had become easy between them. They no longer felt obligated to fill every second with conversation.
Still, after a while, Zane noticed something different.
Marie was staring down at her hands.
Not distracted. Thinking. The distinction was subtle, but he caught it.
He turned slightly toward her.
"You okay?"
Marie took a slow breath before shifting her position on the couch. She rotated until she was facing him more directly, one arm draped over the back cushion.
For a moment, she seemed to be searching for the right words.
Then she found them.
"What are we doing?"
Zane blinked. His gaze flicked toward the television.
"You wanna watch another movie?"
A laugh escaped her despite herself. The smile that followed was warm and genuine.
"No, idiot."
Zane smiled.
Marie gestured between the two of them.
"I mean us."
The smile slipped from his face as understanding settled in.
"Oh."
He leaned back against the armrest and crossed his arms across his chest. The question wasn't unfair. If anything, it was overdue. A long sigh escaped him.
"That's a fair question."
Marie remained silent, giving him room to answer. Zane rubbed a hand against the back of his neck.
"My situation's been... complicated."
She nodded once. He continued.
"When I got to Syracuse, I was still dating my high school girlfriend. We broke up around the beginning of the season."
Marie shifted slightly, resting her head against her hand as she listened. Zane's eyes dropped toward the coffee table.
"We were together for a long time."
His voice softened.
"The breakup wasn't easy."
Marie didn't interrupt.
"She was there through some of the worst parts of my life. When my grandfather was murdered." He paused, swallowing. "She stayed. Even when I wasn't exactly easy to be around."
The memories brought a familiar ache to his chest.
"I put her through a lot while I was grieving."
The room fell quiet. Marie reached across the space between them and placed her hand gently over his. The gesture caught him off guard. Her touch was warm.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
Zane nodded.
"Thank you."
For a few moments neither of them spoke.
The television continued playing forgotten credits in the background while campus life carried on somewhere beyond the walls of the condo.
Eventually, Zane squeezed her hand lightly.
Then he looked at her. Really looked at her. At the patience she had shown him. At the way she always seemed to know when to speak and when to simply listen. At the woman who had slowly worked her way into his life without demanding anything from him.
"I really like you."
The words came easier than he expected.
A smile immediately spread across Marie's face.
"I like spending time with you. Things feel - I don’t know - easy with you. I don't have to pretend to be anybody. I don't have to explain everything."
The smile reached her eyes.
"And I like being around you."
The warmth in her expression only grew.
She tightened her hold on his hand.
"I like you too." The answer came without hesitation.
"I have for a while."
Zane felt himself smiling. Marie laughed quietly.
"I was starting to think you might never say it."
He shook his head. "I was getting there."
"Sure you were."
They shared a laugh. Then Marie's smile softened.
"I want to try this."
Zane's expression became more serious.
She continued carefully.
"I know you've got a lot going on. Football. School. Everything with your family." She paused. "And honestly, I don't know what the future looks like either."
Her thumb brushed lightly across the back of his hand.
"But right now?" She met his eyes.
"I think we should be together. At least try to be."
Something settled inside him.
The constant feeling that he needed to have every answer before moving forward. For once, none of it seemed necessary.
He simply nodded.
"I'd like that."
Marie smiled. For a brief moment, everything felt perfect. Then her expression shifted ever so slightly.
The smile remained, but there was something more thoughtful behind it now. Something she clearly needed to say.
"I don't want to compete with your ex."
The statement landed gently, but it landed nonetheless. Zane felt the truth of it immediately.
Marie held his gaze.
"I understand that there's history there. I understand things are probably unresolved in ways neither of you fully understand yet."
She took a breath.
"And I can accept that."
The smile disappeared entirely.
"What I can't accept is being kept at arm's length because of it."
A pang hit somewhere deep in Zane's chest. Not because he disagreed. Because she was right.
He nodded slowly.
"I understand."
For several seconds neither of them spoke. Then Marie stood.
Before Zane could process what she was doing, she crossed the length of the couch and settled beside him.
Close.
Close enough that he could smell her perfume.
Close enough that he could feel the warmth coming from her.
She lifted a hand to his cheek. Her eyes searched his face. Not for answers. For certainty.
Whatever she found seemed to satisfy her. She leaned forward and kissed him.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative enough to give him every opportunity to pull away. He didn't.
The distance that had existed between them for weeks vanished in an instant. When they finally separated, Marie remained close enough that their foreheads nearly touched.
Neither of them spoke. They simply looked at one another.
For the first time since she'd asked the question, neither of them seemed uncertain about what they were doing.
