Chapter 29
BECK
We’ve been back on campus for three days, and no one has heard from Brody.
Or if they have, they aren’t telling me about it.
To my knowledge, the last time anyone talked to him was when Coach McCoy spoke to him Friday night.
All Coach will tell me is that he was staying with a friend, and said he’d head home separately.
He refuses to call Brody’s family to ask them if he made it safely, or tell him to please call me or listen to my messages.
Coach McCoy thinks there’s something wrong with me, and he’s probably right.
He told me to go home and have a nice holiday, that we’d take care of ‘the Brody situation’ after the break.
But he doesn’t understand. I can’t wait.
The more time passes that I don’t tell him what happened, the longer Brody goes on thinking I betrayed him.
The longer Brody goes without knowing that I care for him.
I’m not brave enough to come out and say anything to anybody, especially now that I’m not sure I’ll ever get him back, but anyone who doesn’t realize there was something going on between me and Brody is dense or not paying attention.
I’ve been on a full-on rampage, doing everything in my power to get in touch with him and pull together the plan we made on the flight home.
Even Caty is screening my calls and texting me messages.
Caty: Take a breath, honey. I’m working on my mom, but you know she’s afraid of poor people and the gays, so asking her to go to bat for someone who is both of those things is tricky.
Caty: Don’t you worry your pretty little head, though. I’m working on making her think that you might propose if your team wins the National Championship, and Brody is the key to making that happen. *fingers crossed emoji*
Caty: Beck, honey. If you call me again, I’m blocking your number. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. There’s nothing anyone can do for a few days at least. You’re just going to have to be patient.
Beck: I can’t. He hates me, Caty. HATES ME. I can’t stand knowing he’s out there thinking that I’m like my father.
Caty: I’m sure he didn’t mean that. He was angry. He’ll come back after the holiday break much calmer, and then you two can talk.
Beck: Calmer because he’ll decide he’s better off without me, maybe.
What if he’s right?
No. No, I can’t let that happen. There has to be a way to track him down. He has to turn on his phone at some point. Maybe he’ll have blocked my number, but he can’t block everyone, can he?
Beck: Have you heard anything?
Aaron Eros: For the thousandth time today, no.
Beck: Do you have a way to contact his mom, maybe? Or his brother?
Aaron Eros: Why would I have that?
Beck: You’re his friend. Don’t you have an emergency contact or something?
Aaron Eros: Do you have Cade’s mom’s phone number saved in your phone?
Beck: No, but I could get her name from his emergency contacts in his file! Good idea, thanks!
No luck. There’s no one left in the administration offices, and the janitor caught me trying to pick the lock on Coach’s door.
If he catches me again, he’ll call the police.
It doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t think I was getting anywhere with it.
I was just jiggling a bent paperclip in there hoping I’d get lucky.
I’m pacing my empty dorm room when I see it. On the small end table in our living area is a piece of mail. It’s a letter from the administration, confirming Jeremy Fisher’s enrollment for the spring semester. Inside the letter are his contact details, including his home address.
Bingo.
Three minutes later, I’m banging on Brody’s dorm door incessantly.
I’m not knocking and waiting, then knocking again.
I’m just hitting my palm on the door constantly, calling Aaron’s name.
I stop for a few seconds, just long enough to peek down at the parking lot at the few cars that are left.
I can see my car, Brody’s, a handful of cars that belong to other staff or students that haven’t left yet or are staying over the break.
And I see Aaron’s silver Jetta. Him and Jay have a flight out later this evening, so it’s possible they haven’t left yet.
I go back to beating on the door. I yell through the wood and metal and whatever this door is made of now that I know they’re in there.
I’m not going to stop, and if I’m wrong and they don’t come out to leave for their flight in the next few hours, I’ll pay someone off to either let me in or break in, so they might as well open the door.
Jay finally yanks the door open. I’m not expecting it, so I fall through the threshold.
Jay is red-faced and sweaty. I’m pretty sure he’s pissed, but I honestly don’t care. I start walking directly to Brody’s room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jay shouts, pulling me back.
Aaron comes out of the bathroom, looking equally annoyed. “What the hell, Beckett? Why are you here?”
“I need to get into Brody’s room,” I say, trying to dodge Jay, but both he and Aaron stand side by side, blocking the door to Brody’s room.
“How do you even know this is his room?” Jay says.
My face flushes, and I can’t come up with a good enough reason. “Because you’re so adamant I shouldn’t go in there.”
“You shouldn’t,” Aaron says. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
For a moment, I’m stunned silent, remembering Brody saying those exact words to me just before he stormed out. I take a few steps back, smoothing down my wrinkled shirt.
“You don’t look like yourself, Beck,” Jay says with a look of concern.
“I don’t feel like myself,” I say, backing away from them.
They look at each other, having a silent conversation, probably about my sanity. They’re right to be concerned. I’ve been acting out of sorts since our flight home lifted off the tarmac without Brody.
“Why don’t you have a seat? We have a little time before we have to get to the airport,” Aaron says.
I take a seat on their small sofa, and Aaron brings me a bottle of water. He sits on the coffee table, facing me. Jay perches on the opposite end of the couch with his arms crossed, likely ready to block me with his ridiculously long limbs if I make a run for the door again.
“I hoped I could look for something that might have Brody’s mom’s phone number or address on it,” I explain, trying my best to sound like my usual, reasonable self.
“And what exactly would you do with an address?”
“I don’t know. Show up and see if he’s there. See that he’s okay. Make him talk to me,” I say more quietly.
Aaron’s brow furrows. “Don’t you think you should give him some space and let him come to you? He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.”
“You don’t understand,” I say, and almost stand, but I know I’ll just start pacing again, and then no one will take me seriously. “He thinks I did something unforgivable, and the longer he goes thinking that I did this awful thing, the more he’ll hate me.”
“And what exactly happens if Brody Miller hates you? Haven’t you hated him since the beginning of the school year?” Jay asks.
“Yeah, I guess. Except, um… Not really.”
“Not really?” Jay repeats, his tone flat and unimpressed.
“Jay, stop it,” Aaron whisper-shouts.
Jay throws up his hands. “What? He can’t say out loud why he’s suddenly so interested in Brody’s well-being, and I’m just supposed to feel sorry for him?” Jay whispers back.
I watch them bicker back and forth, whispering loud enough for the next dorm to hear, right in front of me.
“Um. You realize I’m right here, right?”
Aaron huffs out a breath and makes a face at Jay. Jay rolls his lips and looks pointedly away from us.
I haven’t spent a ton of time with Aaron and Jay outside of wrestling and the dining hall, and I’ve probably only sat close to them because I was trying to get closer to Brody. They’ve been good friends to him. And I definitely have not. Especially from their perspective.
“Brody and I are…friends.”
“Friends,” Jay deadpans.
“Will you shut up?” Aaron hisses at Jay. He looks back at me. “Look, Beck, Brody is our friend, and he hasn’t called us either. But I did find his friend Leo on Instagram, and I’m hoping he’ll see my message.”
“Maybe you should try Eric,” I mutter, and make a mental note to find everyone Brody knows on social media. I didn’t think about that because Brody doesn’t do social media.
“Maybe you should try being a little less obvious,” Jay says, not unkindly. I look up and find him watching me with a soft, understanding expression.
“I love him, okay?”
Aaron gasps. Pulls a hand up to his mouth and everything.
“I know it’s a shock. I, uh, I’m gay. And you already know Brody is too, and we—”
“No, we already knew that part,” Aaron says. “But you love him? Like for real?”
My mouth clamps shut so hard I nearly bite my tongue. What does he mean they knew? Did Brody tell them? I don’t know how to feel about that. Am I allowed to be angry if I’m trying to get him back?
Does the fact that I am a little angry, but I also still want him back mean something?
“He didn’t tell us,” Jay says, because I’m transparent. “We figured it out.”
“When?”
Aaron clears his throat. “Um, we didn’t know for sure until last… Wednesday, was it?”
Jay nods. “Yeah. After finals.”
After finals.
My eyes drop to my lap, then dart to Brody’s bedroom door. Where we were when we… For the first time…. After finals.
I take a deep breath, and when I’m finally able to meet Aaron and Jay’s eyes, they’re both smiling. It’s a weird smile, though. It’s not jeering. It’s sweet? Like they’re happy for me, or like they approve or something. I don’t know. It’s weird, and I’m uncomfortable.
“I desperately need to see him. I need him to know I didn’t betray him. He thinks I told Pierce those things about his family. Things he never wanted him to know.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Jay says, shaking his head.
“It’s so much worse than you know,” I tell him, imploring him with my eyes to understand.