Thirty
Kaleb
Two Months Later — October
School has been back in swing for a little over two months, and I can firmly state that senior year isn’t nearly what it’s cracked up to be. Granted, those feelings may be due to a certain blond-haired idiot being noticeably absent from campus, but I do my best not to think about that.
He texted and called me a few times since leaving camp, asking to talk, to give him a chance to explain. As much as my heart wanted to cave and hear him out, what’s the point? It’s only gonna cut the wounds open more.
He’s never far from my mind, though.
The place is tainted with him. All I see now are the good memories from freshman and sophomore year, before things got all fucked-up. The ones where we’d grab a quick bite after morning lifting or go for a few extra rounds in the cages after everyone else decided to head out for the night.
Where I’d catch his easy smile or hear his laughter; two things I became intimately familiar with over our weeks at Alpine Ridge. And despite every fiber of my being telling me to shove it away, to come back to reality… I fucking miss him.
Sometimes I can ignore it. Shove it down and keep on keeping on. But moments like right now, where I’m dressed in uniform and sitting in the outfield in the hours before a game, make it damn near impossible.
Because he should be here. Long-tossing with one of the other guys or warming up on the mound or—
“Earth to Kaleb?”
I glance up to where Keene is stretching a few feet away from me. His brows draw down beneath his catcher’s helmet, and I realize I must’ve missed something he said.
“Shit, sorry. Can you repeat that?”
My teammate chuckles. “I asked how you’re feeling about the game, but from the way you were just lost in space, I have a feeling that’s the furthest thing from your mind.”
Shaking my head, I meet his dark gaze head on. “Yeah, that’s my bad, man. I’ll lock it in before the game starts.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that. It’s just a fall scrim.” Releasing his legs from the butterfly stretch he’d been holding, he moves into a 90/90 stretch. “Where’s your head at?”
I debate for a solid ten seconds on if it’s stupid for me to be feeling this way, let alone to admit it aloud. And to Keene of all people.
In the end, I play it off with a severely watered-down version of the truth.
“It’s just…weird that Avery isn’t here.”
Keene’s brows crash together at the center. “Uh, yeah. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it in that way. But it’s really no different than when the seniors don’t come back.”
“Yeah, sure,” I agree absently. “It just crossed my mind, that’s all.”
He studies me, still frowning. “Look, I get this is awkward. I know you guys were friends—”
“We really weren’t,” I cut in with a shake of the head, though it’s not lost on me that, not very long ago, we were so much more than friends. “I mean, at one point, yeah. Freshman and sophomore year. But not when he outed you and Aspen.”
“I know,” he says with a nod.
He seems content to just leave it at that, but I find more words spilling from my lips like word vomit.
“He’s just so frustrating, you know? I thought I knew who he was, only to be shown a side of him last year that I had no desire to be associated with. When he was saying all that awful shit to you guys, there was no part of me that wanted someone like that in my life. How the fuck could I, you know? How could any decent human?”
He’s silent for a moment, appearing to mull over my words before asking, “But?”
I cock my head. “What do you mean, but? ”
“You were speaking in past tense.” When I frown, he adds, “When talking about all the shit he said and what he did, you said there was no part of you that wanted him in your life.”
I hadn’t realized I’d even done it, to be honest. But now that it’s staring me dead in the face, the reason is obvious: The person I knew Avery to be last year and the guy I spent the entire summer with are two entirely different people.
Now I’m struggling like hell to determine which one of them is real.
Ah, shit. So much for playing it off.
Letting out a long exhale, I meet his gaze and level him with as much earnestness as I can muster. “I hope you know I’m on your side when it comes to what happened last spring at Family Night.”
If possible, the indent between his brows deepens. “I’m aware. Why would I think any differently?”
“Because I spent the entire summer with Avery at Alpine Ridge?”
I’m not sure what kind of reaction I was expecting from him, but it certainly isn’t him throwing his head back in laughter.
“You’re telling me the same Avery Reynolds who was our teammate the past three years spent the entire summer wrangling rugrats with you in the wilderness?”
Only half of the summer, actually, thanks to his dad.
But I just answer with a soft “yep” instead.
“Well, that had to be interesting,” Keene muses, still laughing. “I can’t imagine him anywhere outside of a country club or marina with a bunch of fancy yachts.”
“He wore boat shoes the first day we went hiking,” I say automatically, the memory swirling in the forefront of my mind. Of course, it’s quickly paired with the moment on the dock when I helped him care for the wounds he stubbornly self-inflicted, and soon enough, I’m replaying every moment of the six weeks I spent out there with him.
The bad ones hurt to think about, yeah. But it’s the good ones that sting the most, like antiseptic on a fresh, gaping wound.
“Talk about a fish out of water,” Keene jokes, a little smirk on his lips.
With my mind still lingering in the memories from the mountains, I don’t have it in me to offer him more than a half-hearted hmph.
That’s when Keene’s laser-like focus feels more like a scalpel carving into me when he murmurs, “There’s something else you’re not saying.”
Perceptive, this one.
All thoughts of stretching or pre-game prep are gone, both for me and for my teammate, who is silently waiting for me to drop the truth-bomb capable of ending our friendship. I rub the back of my neck and send up a silent prayer to whoever may listen that it won’t happen.
“We…slept together.”
Steeling myself for the worst, I glance up to find my teammate gawking at me like I’d just told him flying monkeys exist outside the fictional land of Oz.
“You’re joking.”
My teeth sink into the side of my cheek as I shake my head.
There’s a beat of silence while he continues staring at me before he lets out a little laugh. “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to spell this out. You slept with him, or you slept with him?”
“Both, technically,” I mutter, the words coming out with as much misery as I’m feeling. The problem is, I’m not sure which part of it hurts more: still wanting Avery, knowing I shouldn’t, or the thought of losing one of my friends because of it. A friend who has every right to hate my guts for the admission I just made.
A friend who is…fucking laughing at me like a goddamn lunatic.
“Sorry, I just…” He pauses, clearly still processing, before another laugh slips out. “I don’t mean to laugh. I think I might be in shock.”
“That I could betray your friendship so spectacularly?” I ask dryly.
“No, that I didn’t realize you were into guys.”
An ironic statement, coming from him, but it’s enough to pull the smallest smirk out of me. I wasn’t expecting that to be the thing he’d focus on.
“It wasn’t a secret. My family knows, so do all my friends back home. It just wasn’t something that I’ve been super loud about since coming to college.”
He nods a couple times, and it only makes me feel like even more of a dick that he didn’t know, considering all that’s happened. At least he doesn’t seem perturbed by it, though, snapping his fingers and pointing at me like he just solved an advanced algebra equation.
“You know, now that you mention it, I think I remember seeing you acting all chummy with a guy a few times on campus last year. I just assumed he was a good friend.”
“Chummy?” I echo with a sharp laugh. “And you know what they say about assuming.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Makes an ass outta both of us,” he says through his chuckles, waving me off. His expression sobers a bit, and he gives me a contemplative nod. “Well, now it makes so much more sense why you turned him in after Family Night.”
“Apart from it being the right thing to do, you mean?”
“Well, sure. Though it’s a little more nuanced than that now, don’t you think?”
I glance up to find his lips twitch into something of a smile, but not quite reaching it. A massive wave of guilt hits me like a linedrive to the chest, and I damn near rub my sternum from the ache it causes.
“I’m really sorry, man. I know it was a shitty thing for me to do, especially knowing what he put you and Aspen through.” More guilt eats at my thoughts, and I drop my eyes to the grass beneath me. “He showed up at camp to follow through on this asinine plan his father thought up, and I was pissed. I wanted nothing to do with him.
“For the first few weeks, both of us were drowning in tension, barely hanging on to our sanity, and it was screwing up our ability to work together. So we did what we had to do and…buried the hatchet.” My throat constricts from the memory of a lamp-lit dock and secret notes swimming to the surface, and I whisper, “The last thing I planned on happening was us falling into bed together.”
Keene’s silent for a brief moment, and I don’t have the balls to look up at him. To witness whatever betrayal or fury is sure to be present in his features.
“Yeah, well, if I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that you don’t get to plan who you fall in love with.”
My blood freezes in my veins, and my eyes snap up to find him watching me with meticulous scrutiny.
“Why do you—”
“Oh, no. We’re not playing this shit off,” he cuts in with a shake of his head. “You’ve been cagey and depressed since the semester started, and I’ve been trying to figure out why. But the answer was written all over your face the second you said his name.”
Well, shit.
“That doesn’t mean I’m in love with him,” I immediately negate.
A sharp, disbelieving laugh fills the air. “Oh, really? Because I was wearing the same exact face all summer while Aspen was gone, leaving me here alone to miss him like a fucking limb. And last time I checked, I only felt that miserable because I’m head over heels for the idiot.” His brow arches, and he doesn’t hide his self-satisfied smirk. “Do I need to keep going, or are you done lying to yourself?”
So this is what it feels like to be on the other end of “I told you so.”
I let out a disgruntled, irritated sound in concession.
“I don’t want to feel this way about him,” I mumble in defeat. “But while we were out there, I saw a side of him I doubt anyone else knows exists. And to say it’s fucked with my head might be the understatement of my entire life.”
“Okay,” he says slowly. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
I blink at my teammate—my friend—who has every right to shun me like a leper for what I’ve done. Yet, instead, he seems to be showing me…compassion?
“Wait. You don’t hate me?”
He lets out a soft scoff before shaking his head. “If I hated you for who you fell in love with, I wouldn’t be any better than all those right-winged Bible-thumpers who wanna send us to hell for being gay. Or bi, in my case.”
He makes a fair point, but it’s still not an equal comparison.
“Those people aren’t your friends, though. They didn’t…sleep with the enemy, or whatever,” I mutter, tossing my hand out.
“Even with the shit he did, Avery’s never been the enemy.” He pauses, his head bobbing back and forth before he continues. “Well, maybe a bit of one in Aspen’s eyes, but never in mine.”
I gawk at him, not sure if I heard him wrong or if he’s the most highly evolved human I’ve ever met. “You’re serious?”
His brown gaze collides with mine, and he nods. “I don’t know how much he told you about what happened between us last year. On Toppr, I mean. But even if I didn’t know it was him on the other end of those messages at the time, I got a deeper look at him. Same as you. I saw his fear and shame and confusion written in black and white, and while those things may have stemmed from different places, they were ones I’d felt too.” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “So, no, he’s not the enemy. The enemy is the person who makes someone feel like they’re less than by being different. By being who they really are.”
Avery’s father instantly comes to mind, and my thoughts shift to a darker place.
He’s the one person who Avery seeks approval from the most, and he’s sure to be the one reason Avery continues sinking into old patterns. Even with all the progress he seemed to make over the weeks at camp.
“I’m assuming it was a secret?” Keene asks, breaking into my thoughts.
I nod. “Apparently, we weren’t careful enough, though, because Colton figured it out and it became a whole to-do.” Tilting my head back, I stare at the blue sky overhead and let out a sardonic laugh. “You haven’t been to hell ‘til you’ve been lectured by an eleven-year-old about your choice of bedmates.”
“Been there, done that. Got the t-shirt and trauma to prove it,” he muses wryly. “And man, Lexi was a hardass about it too.”
Still starting at the sky, I think about Cole and the cold shoulder I’d received the rest of camp. Even with Avery gone, he still pulled back. Probably because he could see how much Avery’s absence affected me, which only proved just how far off the pedestal I’d fallen.
Things really haven’t been the same since.
“Yeah, well, I’m assuming she’s still speaking to you.”
Keene lets out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”
I finally shift my attention back to Keene and give a helpless shrug. “Let’s just say…he was very clear about his feelings toward Avery, and they’re a lot more in line with what I expected from you instead.”
My teammate—my friend —cocks his head and stares at me, a pensive look crossing his features. And if I see any emotion in his eyes, it’s not anger or betrayal or resentment.
It’s…empathy.
“Am I surprised? Yeah, of course. But that’s all.” He offers a little shrug, a small grin forming. “As cliché as it’ll sound, I just want you to be happy, man.”
I scoff, knowing right now, I’m anything but. If anything, I’ve been wallowing in misery for weeks, and I don’t know how to change it.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Then what’s stopping you? Colton? Me?” He shakes his head and waves his arm out to the side. “If you love him, go get him. Don’t throw it all away.”
If only it were that simple.
Our fight the night Avery left snakes its way into my thoughts, causing them to reel with all the emotions I’d been feeling in that moment. The fear, the resentment, the despair.
The agony of watching the person I love fall back into a pattern I wanted nothing more than to break him free of.
“You’ve seen some of his shame, man. It runs fucking deep. Maybe even deeper than I’ve seen. And I just…I don’t know how to be with someone who won’t take control of their own happiness. Who is too afraid to say fuck what everyone else thinks and chase what he wants, consequences be damned. And as much as I want to help him get there, I can’t hide us forever. It would feel like going backward. Like I’d have to go back in the closet and wait for him to finally come out of it. And…” I trail off and pick at the grass, frustration welling up inside me. “I don’t know if he’ll ever be ready for that.”
“Sounds like he’s on his way, though, from the little you’ve shared.” Keene leans back, resting his palms on the ground behind him, more relaxed than I thought possible given the topic at hand.
I shake my head, still staring at the ground. “Two steps forward, three steps back.”
“Sometimes the people we love need a little bit more time to reach the point we’ve already made it to. Doesn’t mean they won’t. And it also doesn’t mean they can’t use a hand to guide them along the way.”
The last thing I was expecting was Keene urging me to be with Avery, let alone pull some philosophical bullshit out of his ass to push me in that direction. But, then again, the situation he wound up in with Aspen must’ve granted him a lot of insight on what it’s like to love someone who is too afraid to love him back.
Or, at least, was too afraid.
With how much I’ve been seeing Aspen around, I’m under the impression that fear may have finally subsided. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway.
“How are you two?” I ask, shifting the topic away from my abysmal love life.
“I’m making him work for it, but…” A little grin pulls at his lips and he lifts a shoulder. “We’re mending.”
Thank fuck.
From the few times I’d checked in with Keene this summer—mostly out of my own guilt for sleeping with Avery—things sounded pretty grim. But if things have taken a turn for the better, maybe that’s the real reason he’s choosing not to hold any grudges toward the guy who almost destroyed his relationship.
“Glad to hear he finally got his head outta his ass.”
“Yeah, now we just gotta yank yours out, and we’ll be golden,” Keene jokes while he rises to his feet and dusts himself off before offering me a hand.
I take it and let out a dry laugh while he pulls me to my feet. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He aims a wary look my way as he releases me, only to hold up both hands in surrender.
“Look, don’t shoot the messenger, but from where I’m standing, Avery hasn’t been the only one letting other people’s opinions stand in the way of his happiness.”
The truth in his statement stings like an angry hornet, and it’s all I can focus on. How hypocritical I’ve been without even realizing it.
From Keene’s curious expression as his gaze travels my face, he’s aware of it too.
“Just something to think about.”