There were a lot of things Derek really enjoyed about being an elite athlete...but studying the playbook was not one of them.

At least, not when he was still preoccupied with thoughts of Emily – the feel of her lips on his, the scent of her hair, the shy little smile as she pulled away... He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to hold her hand and take her on a real date and know that she was his.

But he knew that he had to do it right. He had to end things with Savannah and be the gentleman his mother had raised him to be. (Admittedly, kissing a girl who wasn't his girlfriend probably wasn't something his mother would approve of...but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her – or him.)

He'd been staring blankly at the same page, not comprehending a single part of the play illustrated there, for the past hour, knowing that he needed to have the plays memorized before the next practice...but knowing he should focus and actually being able to do so were two very different things.

He was thankful when a knock at the door interrupted his half-hearted attempt at concentration. Abandoning the playbook, he called out jokingly, "Matt, if you forget your keys one more time, I'm going to make you sleep in the hallway!"

(Derek may have been the slob of the two of them, but he was also somehow the responsible one when it came to not forgetting important things in the dorm...)

He was surprised, then, when he opened the door not to find his roommate, but his girlfriend. She leaned up on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips in greeting. If he didn't respond as enthusiastically as usual, she didn't seem to notice as she breezed past him into the room, wrinkling her nose as the scent of sweaty rugby pads hit her.

"What's up?" he asked, plastering on a smile so she couldn't read his thoughts in his expression. "I thought you had practice." He hoped his tone had the bright and airy quality he was attempting to inject into it to mask the preoccupation underneath.

"Look outside," Savannah replied, gesturing vaguely at the window, "It's cats and dogs out there..."

Sure enough, when he pushed aside the blinds to look outside, it was indeed pouring. "Oh," he said lamely.

"Are you busy?" she asked, eyeing the playbook laying discarded on his desk (along with several cans of energy drink that his coach definitely wouldn't approve of).

He shrugged. "I wasn't getting anywhere. Guess my heart's just not in it today." (Exactly where his heart was, though, he certainly wasn't about to confess...)

"Well, speaking of your heart," Savannah said with a cheesy grin, "How about you come get a coffee with your girlfriend?" Then, as an afterthought, "Maybe decaf for you..." She gestured sweepingly to his discarded cans.


Derek couldn't stop fidgeting. Admittedly, it may have been a mistake to down so many energy drinks in such a short time...though, if he were being honest with himself, he knew that wasn't the real reason he was so high-strung.

He chewed absently on a stir stick, tearing the plastic to shreds with his teeth because so long as his mouth was occupied, he didn't have to say anything. Which was good because wherever his brain was, it certainly wasn't inside his head just then...

Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea he'd ever had to go into this breakup blind. He'd thought the words would just come to him once the situation presented itself, but was becoming abundantly clear to him that that wasn't how things were going to play out. And, to be honest, he'd never exactly been the best at putting his feelings into words in the first place... Which might have been part of the reason he'd never had a real girlfriend before: he wasn't good at the feelings and the conversations and, really, anything other than the physical parts.

He hated to think that Savannah had been sort of a 'practice run', so to speak... He'd made a genuine effort with her, trying to be different – to be better – but somewhere at the back of his mind, he'd known she wasn't the one he really wanted. He'd been happy...but he also knew he'd be happier with someone else and therein lay the problem.

The more he thought on the situation in which he'd created for himself, the harder he ground the straw between his molars.

Savannah clearly knew that something was up with him and kept staring at him with an expectant expression, waiting for him to say the words that were obviously on his mind.

He had a feeling she already knew what he was going to say...

She'd made several attempts at holding his hand and each time he'd pulled his hand away before she could grasp it, trying to pretend like he didn't understand her intention. And, each time, she'd get this knowing look on her face, but didn't comment...until she apparently couldn't take the awkward silence any longer.

"You can just say it, you know..."

"Huh?" He looked up sharply, eyes wide in surprise and confusion, almost like he'd forgotten she was there as his mind whirred away trying to form his thoughts into a cohesive sentence.

"You want to break up," she put voice to the words that were on the tip of his tongue but refused to come out.

"What?" he stammered awkwardly, "Why... Why would you... What makes you say that?"

"You haven't exactly been subtle," she pointed out.

For a few moments, he babbled like an idiot, trying to find something – anything – to say. Failing that, he sighed, dropped his head to his chest, unable to meet her eyes. "Savannah, I..."

"You're in love with someone else," she finished for him.

He looked up sharply, stunned. "How did you..." He shook his head. "Savannah, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I just..."

She reached across to squeeze his hand, offering an understanding smile. "You can't help who you fall in love with," she said gently.