Rein
I have my answer before stepping out of Cory's office. I'm in.
But Beau is another story. It's kind of hard to never see someone again when you co-own a minor league football team with them.
We're walking through the parking lot in silence. He's deep in thought, but I have no clue what is going through his mind. I'm debating whether to suggest going somewhere for a drink to talk it over, but after what happened last time we did that, I'm not sure he'd agree.
Is he pissed off that we got drunk? That I kissed him? That we slept in the same bed, me naked? If he is, I get it because being upset about any of those things makes sense.
What doesn't make sense is why he's angry about what happened after the accident when he cut me out of his life without so much as a proper conversation. Just some bullshit letter he was too chicken to give me himself and had delivered to me via my dad of all people.
We reach Beau's car first.
"See you've got the bumper fixed," I observe dryly.
"Yeah. It wasn't much more than a minor dint."
"Hope it didn't cost too much. You know, being lined with gold and all."
He presses his lips together, and that's the closest I get to a smile. "What are we going to do?" he asks, leaning against his car the way his dad used to scold him for when we were kids.
"I don't know," I say, joining him. "I'm so confused. Why is Cory doing this? It makes no sense."
"I've heard he can be…quirky. Like some other rich people I know."
"Ouch," I say, unable to muster the required enthusiasm.
Even with all the time that's passed, I can still tell when he's just messing around, and there's no barb in his words.
I tilt my head toward him all dressed up—by Beau Katona standards, that is—in his pressed chinos, neatly tucked burgundy-and-dark-gray plaid shirt, and scuffed leather boots.
The late-afternoon light hits his eyes, turning them a rich, soft brown.
I'm torn, desperately wanting to know what's going on with him but bummed that I can't get any indication just by looking at him like I used to. It kills me that I'm galaxies away from knowing him at all.
But I also want to respect his boundaries, in spite of the universe forcing us together like this.
Is there any chance in hell he might actually go along with Cory's almost-guaranteed-to-be-a-disaster plan?
And will he be able to make his decision in less than twenty-fours since that's all the time we've got left before Cory pulls his offer and Gilberton remains without a local football team for God knows how many more years.
"What are you thinking?" I finally ask.
"I'm trying to figure it out. What the fuck game Cory is playing at here, and…" He lifts his head slowly until our eyes meet.
It's wild that even though he's a fully grown adult, I can still see the kid he was just by looking at him.
The boy with the natural talent who gave one hundred percent at every single training session.
How I'd always let him cheat off me in Math, and in return, he'd help me with Science.
All the times we used to sneak away to the old fire tower and spend countless hours talking about football and what teams we wanted to play for and list all the exotic places we'd go on vacation together.
It's all still there, part of who he is… It's me who's missing from his life.
"We should probably go somewhere and talk about it," I suggest.
"Yeah." He pushes off his car. "And I know just the place."
I follow Beau in my car, smiling the second he pulls into the old service road just past the town line. I know where he's taking me, and I'm clinging to the hope that taking me to the abandoned fire tower we'd sneak away to is a good sign.
We park our cars in a small gravel pull-off right before the pavement turns to dirt, and we walk the ten-minute climb through pines and old stone walls, left over from when the land was farmland, in what I'm choosing to think is a comfortable silence.
Beau's gotten so much better at hiding his emotions. As a kid, he was so easy to read. Whatever he was feeling, I knew it just by looking into his eyes. Now? I got nothing. Guess thirteen years as a successful coach hardens a person.
I've watched his career from the sidelines. He's an amazing coach, winning division titles, rebuilding broken players, all with the same measured discipline, grit, and stubborn fire he’s had his whole life. That relentless drive he had on the field translated perfectly to a successful coaching career. I've never looked down on him for coaching the minor league. I respect the players, and I know how much local teams mean to their communities. That’s why I’m so determined to acquire the Grizzlies.
The trees thin out as the trail slopes upward before leveling, and the clearing opens, the epic view hitting with greater impact than it used to back in the day when coming here was a weekly occurrence for us.
The afternoon light has turned the distant mountains a pale blue, the sun glinting off the river splitting the town in two.
From this height, Gilberton reminds me of the Lego towns we'd spend hours building in Beau's bedroom.
"Forgot how beautiful it is up here," he says, propping his hands on his hips, taking it all in.
"It's pretty special," I agree, wandering over to the metal base of the old warning sign, my eyes roaming upward.
"It's down here," Beau says, coming up next to me, pointing lower. "If you're looking for our carving."
"I was," I say, turning my back to him.
I can feel my left eye twitching, and I don't want him to see. Why am I constantly such a mess around him?
"We were shorter back then, remember?"
I look down to where his fingers are tracing over our initials and the jersey numbers we dreamed of having some day.
BK 52 / RW 14
The sting behind my eyes grows, so I move away, needing some physical distance between me and the man I loved and lost. Being here is tough. This place is filled with some of the best memories of my childhood.
Footsteps follow. "You okay, Rein?"
"I'm fine."
"Because I'm assuming your left eye doing that fluttering thing still means the same thing it used to."
My head drops, and I let it hang there. Busted. "Well, shit."
"Hey." He swings around in front of me, and I slowly raise my head.
Two big, brown, familiar yet also foreign eyes greet me. We have so much to say to each other, so much stuff to process, a huge mess to untangle and figure out, but right now, my vision goes watery, and what I actually need is to let it all out of me.
I start crying in front of my former best friend. He steps in closer, wraps his strong arms around me, and does the best thing in the world.
He lets me.