Hooped #2 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series #2) Read Free Page B

anymore; at the moment I
couldn’t even imagine watching regular basketball, just because the sport would
remind me of Devon. I cringed, feeling bitter. Devon had managed to ruin an
entire sport for me, at least for a little while; that seemed like the most
unfair part of the whole situation.
    I wandered out of my room and threw myself down onto
the couch; I didn’t want to leave the dorms, but I also didn’t want to wallow
around in bed all day. After a few minutes, Kelly came out, giving me a
sympathetic smile. “Any better today?” she asked me. I shrugged.
    “I don’t know whether I want to go to some stupid
party and find a random guy and screw his brains out, or never leave this room
again.” Kelly laughed.
    “That sounds about normal,” she told me. She sat down on the edge of the couch, pushing my legs
aside. “I can help you out with either plan, you know.” I chortled, sitting up
slightly and scrubbing at my face.
    “I think for now I’m going to stick with never leave this room again, ”
I said. “Except we don’t have enough junk food to last until tomorrow.” Kelly
laughed again.
    “So we’ll order in. Denny’s does togo online, and a bunch of other places do delivery.
We’ll get delivery food, stay in all day and do laundry and study. How’s that
sound?” I grinned, tilting my head back until it came to rest on the arm of the
couch.
    “Perfect. That sounds like the ideal situation.”
    “You get breakfast, I’ll get lunch, and we’ll split
dinner.”
    “Done deal.” I peeled myself off of the couch and went
back into my room to retrieve my laptop.
    We took turns perusing the menu; part of me was a
little disgusted at more fast food after the night before, but I had to admit
that it was more appealing to order in than to go to the dining hall. I
compromised and got a Slam with pancakes, eggs, fruit, and sausage while Kelly ordered a French
Toast Slam. We decided to split an order of cheese fries to go with it and ordered coffee and juice to drink. I
paid online, and Kelly agreed to go and pick it up on her own; I didn’t even
want to leave the room to go to her car out in the parking lot.
    I sorted through the textbooks for my different
classes while she was away, deciding what I needed to tackle first. In spite of
my determination, I found myself thinking about Devon—and hated myself for it.
I was going to focus on precal , and on American
History before 1865, and I was not going to
think about Devon Sealy or about
basketball. I turned on the TV to fill
the room with noise. The last thing I needed just then was to have silence and
space to think.
    Kelly and I settled in, sprawled around the common
area of our dorm, our Styrofoam containers scattered across the coffee table
and the floor. I went into precalculus first,
deciding that I might as well do the most difficult things while my brain was
fighting me to think about Devon. If I could distract myself sufficiently,
maybe I’d just get in the habit of not thinking about him at all.
    “What are you going to do about him?” Kelly asked me
when we took a break a few hours later, trying to decide on what to order for
lunch. The walls in the dorms were thin enough that I could hear people
beginning to move around the floor, coming and going, talking to each other. I
hoped against hope that none of our friends would be interested in coming by
and visiting with us or seeing why
neither Kelly nor I were out and about. I just wanted to be as alone as
possible.
    “I’m going to avoid him,” I said, shrugging. “Let’s do Fratelli’s for lunch. Their pasta is amazing.”
    “I’m down.” Kelly grabbed her phone, and we browsed the menu on the site.   We put in our order, and I looked at my
American History books, thinking that I should just plow through the studying.
Kelly changed the channel on the TV, obviously more than happy to take a break
from her own literature reading.
    “So you’re going to avoid him,” Kelly said.