PROLOGUE #2
Her sleepy voice flows through the speaker.
I want to be teasing and comment on her husky voice, but now’s not the time.
“Hey, Freckles.” The line goes silent and I close my eyes, hoping she didn’t hang up.
She takes a deep breath, relief filling me when I hear it, but dread still comes along for the ride. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” she mutters, and I know there’s no number of sweet nothings I can say to fix things, so I go with the truth.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. I know you have a test tomorrow, which is why you wanted to talk ear—”
She cuts me off, putting a stop to my rambling. “Did your game just end?” How I wish I could say yes. I could say it ran late, but I can’t, and I won’t lie to her.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No. It ended around six.” I can almost see her doing the math in her head when she mumbles a quiet sound of acknowledgment.
“We won, and it was actually me who kicked the winning field goal, so that’s why we’re out celebrating.
Time slipped away, even though that’s not an excuse.
But I didn’t forget entirely, plus I wanted to show you the gift I got you over video.
” A small hint of giddiness starts when I remember what I got her, and I know she’s going to love it.
“I’m proud of you, Liam. I knew you would do great when Coach finally gave you a chance.
” My heart buzzes with the praise, but then shrivels when her voice cracks on the last word.
I don’t bother with the details of the win, the hitch in her voice pointing to something much bigger, more important.
“Now that you won the game, you’re probably gonna be busier than you’ve been lately, huh? ”
I raise an eyebrow, not knowing where she’s heading.
I mean, practices have been brutal since we’ve been prepping for this game, but I always try my best to make it up to her.
“Well, possibly, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have time for you.
” She sighs sadly, and I realize I haven’t been doing as well as I thought.
“Liam.” She pauses and her voice wobbles as if she’s stopping herself from crying.
“I waited for your call for hours, trying so hard to stay awake since you said we would talk tonight.” My shoulders sag, and I mentally curse myself for making her feel this way.
She’s my best friend—in my heart, more than that—yet she’s hurting because of something I did.
“I’m sorry.” I hate how shallow those words sound, but they’re all I’ve got. “I didn’t mean to, really. It’s just . . .”
“Football,” she finishes for me, lowly muttering, “it always is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She stays silent before sighing tiredly. “Nothing . . . Um, how’s your week been besides the game?”
A little stone of guilt drops into my stomach, but I push past it.
“Hectic, honestly. Coach had us doing drills, like, body-aching drills, and Andrew was making jokes to kinda help us through it. Basically, he pulled his gear over his head because of what happened last week.” I laugh, shaking my head at his antics.
“Wait, I don’t get the joke. What happened last week?” she asks, confusion coloring her tone.
I think back, trying to figure out how to explain it. “It’s kind of a long story. I guess it’s a ‘you had to be there’ kind of thing.”
“Right.” Her voice lowers to a whisper and the silence between us is thick, leaving an uneasy feeling inside me. She sighs once again, and I realize even though it may seem like she isn’t upset . . .
Two sighs in the span of five minutes is never a good sign.
“Have you noticed we haven’t been talking as much?
” The words come out as if she’s been holding them in for a while, and thinking back, she’s not entirely wrong.
I move to say something when she continues again.
“It’s either been canceled because of football or for some other thing related to that.
And, I get it, I do. I just feel sick of being left behind.
” She isn’t shouting, but she might as well be.
I sigh. “You feel left behind? Every time we text or talk, you’re always saying how you love your life in Philly.
How you’re getting new friends. Did you ever stop to think about how that makes me feel left behind?
I’m sorry I found something that helps me forget you’re not here with me anymore.
” My voice starts controlled, but as emotions bleed through the words, it raises a bit, disbelief coursing through me as she huffs, appalled.
“At least the friends I’ve made here showed up for me on my birthday,” she digs.
“At least the friends I’ve made here didn’t leave me by flying two thousand miles away.”
Once again, silence envelops the call, and I pant as the bubbling anger simmers, leaving me with a horrible feeling of regret.
“Well, if I’m such a bad friend, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore,” she says dejectedly.
The words run through my head and I respond, “Maybe we shouldn’t.” There’s a sharp intake of breath, and my heart pushes me to take back the words. The insecurities I’ve felt ever since she moved away are winning right now.
I screwed up, I admitted that, but to insinuate I’ve been leaving her behind or not thinking about her?
The accusation of not taking her feelings into consideration hurts when that’s all I’ve been doing.
I think back to the times I’ve woken up early to talk to her, chugging an energy drink to stay awake for the rest of my day.
Listening to how she’s moved on, and being proud and supportive even though it’s killed me inside.
I started football to deal with her leaving, and now she’s using that against me?
“Congrats on your win, Liam,” she says sharply.
“Thanks, I’ll be celebrating it with people who actually stuck around.” It’s the last thing said before she hangs up, and the adrenaline of the phone call wears off. I sit on the porch steps, death-staring at my phone, hoping she calls back.
An ache forms inside of me as I realize what I’ve done, and I press a hand to my chest while I ignore the cheering coming from inside the house.
I look up, willing myself not to cry as my eyes trace each constellation in the night sky.
Her birthday present stays wrapped perfectly in my hand, and I look down at it with tainted thoughts.
This is a fight—we’ve had them prior and we always bounced back.
We’ll bounce back now too. We just need time to cool off, and then we’ll be all good.
Bianca and Liam, forever and ever, right?