20. Miles
“It was Kevin’s,” she says on an exhale. “He said he was keeping it for a friend. I didn’t like it. He pressured me, and I told him it was fine even though it wasn’t.
“I tried explaining to Caroline that it was a misunderstanding. She claims she didn’t turn me in, but there’s no one else it could have been. It escalated so fast that my mom had to get involved.” Brooke shudders. “She couldn’t have a daughter getting charged or expelled or both, so she made a big donation to the administration. A week later, Kevin broke up with me.”
Her eyes cloud as though she’s reliving it.
“What did your mom say about covering for Kevin?”
She takes a slow breath. “I never told her. His family is a major campaign donor. It would have put her in an even worse spot.”
Fuck.
I pretend to be shocked.
The thing is… I’m not.
But I hurt for her like it’s fresh.
I get it—why she tries so hard to present herself a certain way, why she doesn’t feel like she can let loose even when she wants to.
We sit there for a while longer, holding each other and taking comfort in each other”s presence.
”I should go back and face them.” She yawns on the last word.
”Do it in the morning.”
I rise first and help her up.
As we navigate toward the doors of the main building, Brooke leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder.
Outside, the cold night air hits us in a gust. I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her close.
The only sound is our footsteps on the gravel path as we head for our cabin. The moon is high in the sky, casting a soft light over the trees and cabins. It”s a beautiful night, but it”s hard to appreciate it when Brooke is hurting.
When we arrive at the cabin, I open the door and let Brooke in first. She heads straight to our shared room, and I follow her, closing the door softly. Brooke sits on the bed.
My phone buzzes and I curse. ”Be right back.”
She nods, wrapping her arms around herself.
I turn away to look at the screen.
It’s Jay.
I don’t want to leave Brooke.
Still, Jay is my friend. My team captain. The person I owe my loyalty to.
I duck into the bathroom as a compromise so I don’t have to leave the room and pull the door closed.
“Yeah,” I answer under my breath.
“How are things going?”
I stare at the phone. Normally, I’m down for a surprise call from one of my teammates, but this isn’t the time.
“We’re pretty busy here.”
“Right. But you’d tell me if something was wrong.”
I glance at the closed door. “Of course I would.”
I’m conflicted.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Stupid like what?”
There’s silence.
“Back when I first met you, we were all struggling to find our way.”
“We were kids,” I counter.
“And you’ve proven yourself. We’ve all had to in our own ways. But I guess what I’m saying is… we need you, man.”
The responsibility feels suffocating.
When I emerge, Brooke’s lying still on the bed facing the other way. I brush my teeth in the bathroom and change into cotton pajama pants.
”Brooke?” I ask when I return.
There”s no answer.
I drop into a chair opposite the fireplace and stare sightlessly at my phone. A sound reaches my ears.
Shaky breathing.
I drop the phone on the coffee table, my hands fisting.
I promised I”d look out for her from a safe distance.
But listening to her quiet sobs is torture.
Fuck this.
* * *
brOOKE
Crying isn”t something I do often.
Sadness means sorrow, regret.
I don’t let myself regret.
The bed creaks behind me, the mattress dipping as Milesshifts in behind me.
His warm chest heats my shoulders, and I stiffen.”What are you…?”
His arm wraps around me, pulls me back against him.
Gentle.
Insistent.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
“Don’t what?” His voice is low and soothing, a rumble against my shoulder. “Don’t hold you when it’s damned obvious that’s what you need?”
I try to fight him. The careful effort I put into my appearance is long gone, replaced by a makeup-stained face and a T-shirt I pulled on after ripping off the dress I chose for dinner.
He doesn”t let go. He reaches for the hair stuck to my face and smooths it behind my ear.
I cry for real. Miles holds me tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. I feel safe and comforted in his embrace, knowing that he won”t judge me for my tears.
I let out all my frustration, my pain, my anger, and my sadness. I cry until there are no more tears left, until my sobs turn into soft whimpers, until I”m completely drained.
Years of feeling as if I have to prove myself worthy every single day, of defending the things I want to be proud of.
Eventually, Miles disappears into the bathroom and returns moments later with a glass of water.
I take a long drink. He”s a silhouette as he retrieves the glass from me and sets it on the nightstand.
“You probably think I’m a mess,” I manage.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
Miles shifts back onto the bed, andI feel his body heat against mine again. It”s comforting.
“Growing up, my mom used to tell us, ‘It’s what they see that matters,’” I say. “She said she meant that we should always do our best, but I took it as meaning you should protect your image at all costs. I went to the best schools, made the right friends, wore the right clothes, dated the right boys.”
I think of Kevin.
“But at a certain point, I realized how much of it was an act. The smiling pictures. The surface-level acceptance. And the truth is, some people get away with behaving badly. They get a hundred chances.”
“I’m going to say something I have no business saying.” Miles’s breath warms my neck. “I’m glad he dumped you.”
I chuckle, my throat thick. “Because it means you got to come to this amazing weekend as my fake boyfriend years later?”
“Because there is no universe in which a prick like that deserves to be with a woman like you.”
His words don’t only smooth over my rough surfaces, they heal them.
I take a shaky breath.
Tomorrow, I need to decide what to do—about the contract, about the sorority, all of it.
But not tonight.
”Why did you do it?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He shifts. “Do what?”
”Come to this reunion with me.”
His hand traces slow circles on my back, one after another.”You needed someone. I wanted to be that person.”
I turn my head to look at him. My chest aches.
Miles watches me for a moment, his eyes searching mine in the dark. ”You deserve to have someone in your corner. Not because you’re smart or beautiful or kind, although you are all of those things. Because you were born worthwhile, and nothing you or anyone else does or says can change that.”
That kind of caring can be just as easily reversed,a voice reminds me. Kevin dropped me with zero warning after years together, even after I covered for his fuck-up. My mom decided to end her ongoing investment in me based on a single photo.
But I feel a flicker of hope that it”s possible for someone to care about me for who I am.
So, tonight I let myself believe.