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I’ll be seeing you soon,
S x
Chapter Fourteen
Maverick
Afterthatrun-inwithBeatrice, I expect her to keep firing back at me—to call me out on my shit again—but as the weeks draw on, it’s like she shrinks into herself more. She walks the halls with her head down, refusing to offer me even a glance of what’s going on in her mind.
My own can’t stop revisiting her words. They hit me over and over, like a freight train slamming through all my well-built defenses, tearing them down bit by bit. For so long, I lived in my own head, creating a story that fit my narrative, but never once did I consider hers.
Nash bumps me on the shoulder as he passes, heading to the locker room. My game is shit again. Beatrice was in the bleachers today, watching practice with Maisie, and instead of focusing on what was happening on the field, my eyes kept finding her.
She sat there gazing off into the distance with a to-go mug clenched between her hands. She didn’t smile or laugh, and there wasn’t a hint of the girl she’s been since she got here.
Harlow finds me before my mind can wander further, tossing me a bottle of water. She sidles up to my side as I walk toward the field, bypassing the locker rooms to escape the disappointment of the team.
“You wanna talk?” she asks when we make it to my truck. Her car sits a few spaces down, but she hops into my passenger seat when I climb in, clipping her belt as she waits me out.
“You know, you’re pushy when you want to be?”
“Too fucking right.” She laughs, fiddling with my radio. “But as your friend, and seemingly youronlyone right now, you’re kinda stuck with me.”
Sighing, I reverse out of the spot, switching into first as I roll over the asphalt, heading toward the gates.
“You ever look at someone and see every mistake you’ve ever made?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road as my fingers tighten around the wheel. “Yet you also can’t look away, because when you do, it hurts? Maybe even more than looking at them does?”
“Wow, straight into the deep end we go.” She laughs. I flick my gaze to her, and her eyes soften with understanding. “Beatrice, right? You know, you never did tell me the story of you two.”
“Where to even start?” A dry laugh escapes me as I shake my head. “I met Bea when I was nine. She was Willow’s best friend, and one day after school, I got home and there she was. She was standing in my kitchen, laughing about something or other. I couldn’t even tell you what, because she turned to me and her smile widened more, and she took my breath away.
“She didn’t even care that Willow was still saying something to her, she rushed across the room and held her hand out to me, and from that moment, we were inseparable. We were just kids, but I can remember the day as if it were only yesterday. She wore her hair in two braids, and she had on a little denim dungaree set. That day, she became my favorite person in the whole world.”
Harlow listens with her gaze never leaving me, but I turn to the window, focusing on the stretch of road as my fingers coil tighter around the steering wheel.
“She’s the reason I play football, you know?”
“Really?” Harlow asks, surprise heavy in her tone. “I always just assumed that was a you-and-Nash thing.”
“No.” I laugh, thinking back to those earlier days. “Nash didn’t join the high school team until sophomore year. Me joining, that was all on Bea. We were just chilling in my yard one day, and she watched me with the ball and told me I needed to go for it. After that, she’d wake up with me early and head to the field near my parents’ just to keep me company while I practiced my drills. I never would have even thought to take it all the way without her.”
Harlow stays quiet, and instead of falling into silence with her, the words keep flowing.
“She was my biggest cheerleader. More so than even my sister and parents. She was just there, at my side, always. I doubt there’s a person in the world that knows me better than that girl.”
“So, what happened?” Harlow asks, not for the first time, but I’ve never answered her before now.
Sighing, I pull over outside the apartment, dropping my head back to the seat. “She got a boyfriend. Her first ever, and everything changed. A couple years passed, and she was slowly but surely disappearing. And then one night just ruined everything, and I’ve spent the last two years blaming her for it.”
“Does she deserve that?”
I inhale a harsh breath, pulling my keys free and unclipping my belt. “My family thinks so, I think—thought—fuck . . .” I huff. “I don’t even know what I think anymore. I thought I knew the whole story, that I had it all figured out. But what if I don’t?”
“You’re one of the best people I know, Maverick,” Harlow says, tilting her head when I face her. “But even the best people can get it wrong at times. I don’t know what to tell you, or where you go from here, but I do think you owe it to yourself to at least give her a chance. Let her tell you her side of the story. Maybe it doesn’t change anything, or maybe it changes everything. But you’ll never move on from the past if you don’t at least try and get some closure.”
“I wanna do something this weekend,” Gray says, sliding his tray onto the table before taking the seat next to mine. Beck and Harlow follow him, talking under their breaths to one another. Nash is last, tugging Maisie along with him before pulling her onto his lap when he sits down.
My eyes linger on where they came from, waiting to see if Beatrice pops up, but she never does. She hasn’t since that day, and each time I think about talking to her like Harlow says, it’s like she can sense my intentions and disappears.
