Aand I'm back. It's a short one but enjoy :)

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By Tuesday afternoon, I was beginning to feel the consequences of the 6 AM practice. After passing out for a little while before my classes, and then somehow getting myself out of bed and into them, I was struggling to stay awake in my seat. Every few seconds, I slumped further in my chair, until someone nearby made a noise that jolted my head forward and eyes open.

I somehow stuck it out for my only two classes of the day and was out by two thirty, although the few hours felt like a lifetime. I packed up my things at half speed before heading out of the academic hall, and then felt my backpack begin to vibrate.

"Shit," I muttered to myself when I realized I packed my phone in the bag.

I moved out of the entrance and toward the ledge of the stairs so I could dig for my incessantly vibrating cellphone. By the time I reach it, the phone call gets sent to voicemail, but I see mom sprawled across the screen as the call drops.

I zip my bag back up and start walking down the front steps as I fiddle with my phone to call her back. My phone buzzes in my hands before I can press call, and I see my mom decided to text me whatever she wanted to say instead.

I stare at the phone and slowly stop walking once I reach the bottom step. It takes me a moment to process this news and my mind flashes between the thought of Danny in his hospital bed to Vincent talking about his dad doing the surgery for free.

After a moment, I regain my composure and text her back: I'll drive home Friday. Is Vincent's dad his surgeon?

I let out a breath and start walking toward the radio station for my shift, my mind newly awake. The news had jolted me and I anxiously clutched my phone as I awaited a text back, my mind reeling about Danny. This surgery could mean the end of his cancer.

My anxious waiting was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice saying my name, but unlike last time when he was seething, Vincent sounded tentative. "Lily?"

Half grateful for any distraction, I turned around to face the culprit. Upon seeing Vincent's face did I realize that he had never texted me when I had fallen asleep after practice, even though I could see him typing for minutes. I narrow my eyes when my gaze falls on him defensively, although I wasn't in the mood to be angry with him.

"I can't stay and chat," I tell him point-blank. "I'm walking to work."

He was still a few yards away when I tell him this, so I promptly turn around and continue walking, suddenly remembering the hurt in the pit of my stomach when Vincent had told me to get out of his way earlier.

"I'll walk with you," Vincent offers, his voice sounding much closer, and I turn a little to see he's jogging to catch up to me.

I don't reply, or say anything when he finally returns to a normal pace beside me. Between his outright rude attitude this morning and the news my mom had just dropped on me, I wasn't in the mood to talk unless he was apologizing. And, luckily, my dreams came true.

"I'm sorry about earlier," He says immediately, almost like he could read my mind. "I shouldn't have acted like such an ass."

"Then why did you?" I question, my gaze still not meeting his.

Vincent sighs, and I glance out of my peripheral vision to see him wring his hands nervously. "I didn't expect my first practice back to go like that and I was frustrated with myself."

"To go like what?" I ask for clarification, and finally look at him.

His electric eyes search mine for a moment before he admits, "I couldn't focus because I couldn't stop looking at you. And Coach noticed me fumbling the snap and getting sacked, obviously, which is why he had to talk to us."

My heart skipped a beat in my chest as the words leave his mouth, and the intensity of his gaze as it bore into mine gave me goosebumps.

"But it was my fault and not yours," Vincent continues, and I was thankful that he kept talking, because I couldn't form a sentence right now even if I tried. "And it wasn't right for me to take it out on you. I'm sorry."

Although we were still walking, our steps had gotten smaller and slower in pace, until I just stopped altogether. I stare at him for a long time without saying anything as my mind processes his full apology and the revelation that I was the one causing him to lose focus today.

And then I thought about the two years I've known Vincent Bradshaw, and all the girls I've seen him hook up with and then dump, and the fact that he has never once let any of those girls distract him from football. He never let anything get in the way of his focus and precision when he was out there on the field.

Until me.

Vincent's apology and my own realization gave me a type of confidence that I hadn't previously had, and one that I couldn't quite explain. And maybe the confidence was false and it was nothing more than the fact that I was acting out because of the news about Danny. But whatever it was, it made me smile.

And then it made me kiss Vincent. Just a short kiss, a little longer than a few seconds, and I practically did all the work because he was shocked by me. But the feeling of his lips on mine, even for a short time, felt euphoric. I placed my hand on his chest for support to push myself away from his lips and smile at his dazed features.

"I know you said not to kiss you again," I say jokingly, "But I figured you wouldn't mind."

Vincent's eyes dart between mine for a moment before he grins and lets out a low breath, shaking his head slowly, his gaze never tearing from mine, his voice deep when he tells me, "You are something else, Lily."

"I forgive you," I add. "And if you can get through the game on Thursday, then I can take your full attention when we go out after."

I felt weirdly calm amid an overload of confidence until I feel my phone vibrate again. My cool smile slides off my face as I look at my phone immediately.

"Uh, you okay?" Vincent asks upon witnessing my abrupt mood change.

"Your dads doing the surgery," I say as I look away from my phone and straight at Vincent with a different kind of intensity than before. "He's operating on Danny on Saturday."

Vincent nods slowly. "He called me after practice to tell me."

I nod too, for no real reason other than to do something. It felt like my emotions had been bouncing around all morning, and now I didn't know where they were going to land.

"I'll come home with you," He didn't offer, but rather states this. "So I can be there if you need me."

His words finally instilled some type of calmness in me, and I was able to take a breath and realize that, with him by my side, the whole thing would be less stressful.

But even if his presence would relax me, I still couldn't accept his offer. It was the beginning of Thanksgiving break— I couldn't force him to come home with me.

"Yes I will," He says preemptively. When I make a face, he adds, "I knew you were going to refuse. So I'm just getting ahead of it."

My lips twitch up a little and I tell him, "We'll talk later. I have to go to work."

"Do I get a goodbye kiss?" Vincent asks cheekily.

I start taking a few steps backward, toward the radio station, and grin at him. "You wish you were so lucky."

He grins brightly. "Yes, I do." His admittance sends butterflies through my stomach. "I'll see you later, Lil."

As I walked to my shift at the radio station, I couldn't get the smile off my face. Not only was the prospect of Danny's surgery going well making me giddy, but the fact that Vincent would be by my side throughout the waiting period made me feel more calm about the whole thing.

And because Vincent would be with me, I didn't let myself fret about what could go wrong. I didn't let the anxiety eat me up. I just kept smiling and felt a weird sense of calm overtake me and focused on the good 'what if' instead of the bad 'what if'.