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“You take care of yourself,” Adrien calls after me.
I raise a hand in farewell, not turning around. “I will,” I say while pushing the door open with my shoulder. I inhale deeply as the door closes behind me, my eyes fluttering closed. I imagine Rachel’s look when I arrive, the smile on her lips, the adoration in her gaze.
“I’m going home,” I whisper.
***
The light is still on in the living room. It’s almost midnight. I can’t believe I was able to catch the last flight out. I’m still carrying my football bag. I didn’t bother returning to my apartment. After leaving the stadium, I went straight to O’Hare and bought the last seat on the flight heading out. I didn’t want to bother Dad with picking me up, so I caught a taxi, which dropped me off on this sidewalk about ten minutes ago.
I don’t know why I’m standing out here in the cold. The snow is floating down all around me, blanketing everything in sight. I can see the dark shadows of the mountains in the distance. There’s music drifting toward me from a party in the area. I should go inside, but I can’t. My feet are glued to the cement below me. Fear has kept me grounded. But what am I so scared of?
Rejection, I tell myself. I’m terrified that I’ve made too many mistakes since Rachel left. She’s called and called and called, and I’ve always found an excuse to avoid her. I should have returned her calls. I should have stopped drinking, but I allowed my self-hatred to get in the way of our relationship.
Will she even be happy to see me? Is it too late? I grimace at my dark thoughts, feeling the twitch in my hands and the need for the bottle. I didn’t come here to drink, though. I came to profess my love and that is exactly what I am going to do.
My hand tightens on my bag and I march toward the door, stalking up the staircase, careful not to slip on any ice coating the metal. Before I can change my mind, I knock three times and step back, waiting for the door to swing open.
I hear someone grumbling on the other side. It sounds like Seth. I should have called. They’re probably busy studying… on a Friday night. Who am I kidding, they’re not studying at all. They’re most likely playing Mario Kart or fucking. Sure, it’s the last weekend before finals week, but if I know my bros right, they’re probably stuffing their face with pizza. Rachel could be working on her final project.
The door opens and it’s Rachel in the doorway. Her eyes widen, her mouth dropping open. Seth and Alex sit on the couch behind her, glancing over their shoulders, their faces mirroring hers—looking just as shocked.
“Hunter,” Rachel breathes, her hand dropping away from the door. She looks between me and my bag and then steps outside, looking down the staircase as if she’s trying to figure out how I got to standing in front of her. “What are you doing here?”
I close the distance between us. My bag drops on the snow-covered welcome mat. I don’t care if it gets destroyed or ices over. My hands cup Rachel’s face, sliding down her neck to caress her shoulders.
“I’m home,” I whisper before pressing my lips against hers.
We stumble backward into the apartment, and I kick the door closed without breaking away from her kiss. It’s been too long. I’m sober and I’m kissing her. It’s the most amazing feeling ever. I don’t know why I ever left her. I was stupid. I’m never leaving her again. Her tongue runs along my bottom lip and I open for her, loving the feel of her filling me. My hands hold her tighter to me. I will never let her go again.
Rachel breaks the kiss. Her eyes are glossy as she stares up at me, her lips swollen. “What are you doing here, Hunter?” she asks again.
I push a stray hair away from her face, my nose nuzzling hers as I whisper, “I quit.”
“What?” she shouts, pushing me away.
“Did I hear what I think I just heard?” Seth asks while jumping over the couch.
Alex follows him, his eyes wide with horror.
“Yes,” I say with a nod.
Seth and Alex glance at each other, their mouths opening and closing like fish in a bowl.
“What’s going on?” Lucas asks, his door swinging open. He stops mid-step as soon as his eyes land on me. “What are you doing here? I thought it was game day.”
“It is,” I say with a shrug.
“But…” Lucas points at the TV, but his gaze is still on me. “You’re supposed to be there.”
I chuckle. “I don’t live in the TV, Lucas.”
Lucas scowls at me, his gaze dropping to my empty hands. “If you’re here, where are your things?”
“Outside.” I nod toward the closed door to make my point and Lucas heaves a long, aggravated sigh.
“I’ll get it,” Seth says from behind me and opens the door and throws my bag inside, dropping it near my feet.
“That’s it?” Lucas asks as he stares down at my bag.
