18. Chapter 18
eighteen
Boston
I’m standing at the check-in counter, fighting my own thoughts during the mid-morning lull at the gym.
The place smells exactly like I remember—rubber mats, sweat, and citrus cleaner. It’s under new ownership, though. All new staff. No one here knows that I used to work this counter at seventeen.
My fingers drum against the surface. Stop. Then start again. Exactly like my brain keeps replaying last night.
I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d run into them. I just didn’t expect it to feel so surreal.
They were all there. Jake, Jonathan, Pacey, Lily.
Skye.
It was like the entire room went blurry except for her. I had thought maybe two years was enough to take the edge off a little.
Nope.
I swear, I forgot how to breathe when I saw her.
And, man, her face when she saw me? Her expression? It was there for only a moment before she blinked and it was gone, but, fuck, it did a number on me.
And then there was Archer. Same punchable face. Same inflated ego.
A loud slap on the counter startles me.
“Are you falling asleep?” Pacey asks, smirking. He’s clearly ready to hit the weights.
Jake and Jonathan are right behind him, smiling widely. I chuckle, but the sound dies when I spot Archer trailing behind them.
That guy’s like a tumor.
“You didn’t text me last night,” Jake says, the complaint tempered down by his grin.
“Yeah, sorry. I was beat. Just ended up crashing,” I lie.
Truth is, I was avoiding him and the questions he was bound to ask. I know I’m only delaying the inevitable.
“It’s all good, man. I’m just so fucking glad you’re back.”
The air is suddenly thick with emotion.
But not for long.
“So, you work here, too?” Archer asks, looking around like this place is beneath him. Never mind the fact that he was a regular here during high school. Even then he’d sneer at me.
I nod. “Clearly.” I hate how he gets under my skin.
Jake frowns. “Man, you have two jobs?”
“Three,” I say, softer.
His jaw drops. “Shit, where else?”
“Riverfront Sports Complex.”
Sounds fancier than it is, and judging by Archer’s response, they know it.
“The rec center?” Archer snorts softly. “That place is still open?”
“Still open.”
“Shit, Boss—” Jake starts, heaviness settling in his features.
“Listen—” I stop him. I don’t need pity. Especially not with Archer listening. “I’m actually about to clock out. My shift’s over.”
Archer smirks. “You going to the rec center now?”
I decide to ignore him, keeping my focus on Jake.
“I don’t want you to think I’m avoiding you guys, okay? I just work a lot. But I’m free Sunday evenings, so… if you’re around, maybe we can catch up.”
Jake nods. “Definitely.”
I don’t deserve his enthusiasm.
“Sweet. Okay, you guys have a good workout.”
I leave through the back, just like I used to, stepping onto the same cracked pavement, that damn door still sticking on the way out.
I came back to Stillwater the day after my twentieth birthday.
The day after finally getting to talk to Cassie and Bronx after over two years.
Bronx sounded so much older, telling me about soccer, and school, and their current foster parents.
Cassie… she cried so hard I could barely understand her.
She kept begging me to come get them. Her sobs, the pain in her voice—it broke me wide open.
I hadn’t realized I was crying until I felt the tears spilling down my neck.
The first thing I did when I came back to Stillwater was pick them up and take them to the park.
There, I told them the truth: that I live in my car, that I don’t have a place where they’d be safe.
Not yet, at least. And then I promised I’d find a way to get them, making them promise me in turn to be patient.
Give me a little bit of time to figure this out.
I wish I could say the lawyer I talked to that following week made me feel more optimistic about things, but the man just sat there in his pressed jacket and tie and told me—straight-faced—that it would cost me somewhere between ten and fifteen grand to fight for custody.
That’s after I miraculously come up with five thousand dollars just to retain the guy.
I almost passed out when he said it.
But the truth is, no judge is going to give me custody of Cassie and Bronx if I don’t even have a place to live. So that’s the goal now: apartment first. Then custody.
My mom’s no help. She’s back in jail.
Eddie did eventually post her bail the first time, but she made it barely a month before she missed a court date and got picked up again. The arrest report says she offered an undercover cop a blowjob for fifty bucks.
I didn’t ask her to confirm.
I unlock my car, briefly glancing back through the gym window. Jake and Archer are loading another plate onto a bar while Pacey and Jonathan are messing around, shoving each other.
I always knew I was different, that I didn’t quite fit in. But now I feel like I don’t even belong on the same planet.
I change shirts right here in the parking lot, then get into my car, and drive across town for shift number two.