Chapter Fifteen. Reid #2
We weren’t supposed to get personal this weekend. But the lines are already blurring. Embraced like this, I’m too aware that I still miss her. That I’m still angry.
That I’m still so in love with her it hurts to breathe.
But I remind myself she wouldn’t even let me tell her how I feel. She never said one thing about the card I gave her on her birthday. Nothing’s changed. And I fucked up any chance of it changing the second I let Delaney stay over, anyway.
My heart is banging around my rib cage as I gently draw back so I can get the space I need.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
For so much.
“It’s okay. I get it.” She glides soft fingertips across my forehead to push my wet hair back. It’s such a girlfriend move, and I wish I could understand why she does it.
We pull on our shoes in silence. As I pick up the towels to head for the car, I realize I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to be alone with her again. It’s now or never.
“Look, I need to tell you something.” I turn when I don’t hear her following.
She’s crouched down, frozen as she stares at my phone in the dirt.
My stomach plummets at the look on her face. At the way her features slowly, purposefully smooth out. The only way to know that she’s upset is that her hands tremble as she gives me the phone.
“Is this why she’s been weird?” she says.
I look at the screen, my heart in my fucking throat as I read the text. It’s a screenshot from Kenji of the newest Legacy Lore post—Delaney’s intro post. My chest goes concave as I read it:
@LEGACY_LORE: Meet Delaney Whitlock. Prima ballerina and Woodhurst’s own pom-squad princess, it’s no wonder she’s beloved by all … even her best friend’s ex-boyfriend? More soon.
Oh, fuck you, Josh.
Below it is a photo of me and Delaney from Kenji’s the night before. When we were talking by the stairs and I begged her not to tell Clara anything. I’m leaning in, my lips close to her ear. The conversation looks heated, intense.
The first comment below the post makes everything worse.
Yeah I heard they hooked up in Reid’s dorm.
I might throw up. Delaney was right. We should’ve told Clara everything last night before the story started getting twisted. But I won’t let this bullshit threat of “more soon” make things worse.
“It’s not what you think.”
Clara’s gone completely blank. That tough front is back—her jaw set, her eyes hard. Her voice is cold and emotionless when she says, “It’s none of my business.”
I rear back like I’ve been slapped. “Yes, it is.”
She tries to walk away but seems to think better of it as she turns around to face me. “Why would I believe anything you say? You’ve been lying since you got home.”
“You’re right.”
Her sharp green eyes pierce mine and I know I have one shot to get this right.
“I’ve lied about a lot. About school, about my knee. I kept this from you, but I would never lie to you about what happened.” My gaze is pleading. “I promise.”
She sucks in a breath and gestures to my phone. “Then start talking.”
“I don’t know who this is or what they think they know…” I swipe a hand across my forehead. “But Delaney did visit and stay over last month. She was on my campus for some dance thing.”
Clara’s nostrils flare but she nods. “Okay…”
“My teammates were having a party. I didn’t want to go, but … she thought it’d be fun. She’s still not eating much and she drank a lot—” I cut myself off, trying to shake the memory away. It was hard seeing Delaney like that. “We both did.”
I think back, try to remember. I know we stumbled back to my dorm and started reminiscing. About high school and the team and Clara.
We talked about Legacy and how we both wanted to go back to what we’d been so excited to escape. At least Woodhurst was familiar when everything else was so new.
“I wasn’t handling the changes or the pressure well. My injury was fresh, my head a mess. The guys on the team are hardcore, and Coach is relentless … It was all so intense.”
Delaney tried calling Clara over and over. I tried calling Mitchell, too. Neither of them picked up, and that made it worse somehow. Like we were the ones who were left behind, even though we weren’t the ones home.
Then Delaney lay back on my bed and started crying. Told me how lonely she was at school. I told her I was, too. The rest I mostly remember in flashes. None of them good.
“There was no way she could drive, so she stayed over. We talked awhile. And … I know we kissed.”
Clara’s eyes drill into mine, barely containing her anger. “And?”
“I don’t remember much else.”
Her eyes narrow like she doesn’t believe me.
“I know I fucked up—” Shame cuts my breath short because the details are fuzzy. But there is one thing I know for sure. “We didn’t have sex like this post is suggesting.”
“Did you want to?”
“No. The whole thing was kind of awful, actually—”
“Oh, was it?” she snaps, her biting tone dripping with sarcasm. “Was hooking up with my best friend awful for you?”
“Yes.”
My voice is strangled. She goes still, some of the anger draining as it’s replaced with hurt.
“I can’t believe this.”
“It was nothing—”
“Then why keep it from me? Why didn’t you text me or call me or something?”
Because I couldn’t hear her voice knowing she didn’t want me. I couldn’t text with her like we were just friends. I couldn’t believe what I had done.
But all I can manage to say is, “I couldn’t.”
I scrub my hands down my face, fatigue compressing my skull from the inside out. “It was a drunken mistake. I don’t like her like that and never have, but I knew that—”
I stop myself as our gazes collide again.
“What?” she urges.
The air between us vibrates the longer we stare at each other. The longer she waits for me to finish that sentence.
“I know it’s over. It’s been over. But—” I sigh, push a hand through my hair again. “I knew the second you found out, I’d lose you for good.”
It’s an admission that she tracks instantly. That I had hope before that, despite the way things ended, we might stand another chance someday.
She shakes her head. “Wow. What a convenient excuse. Blame me for what you two did.”
“That’s not—”
But she’s walking away, furious. Which is exactly what I knew would happen. Exactly what I deserve.
Fracturing all over again.