Chapter 26 Tate
twenty-six
Tate
You’re telling me you had no idea Fletcher was seeing Casey?” Jeremy hands me a Dr.Pepper.
“Did you?” I raise an eyebrow, and he shakes his head. “Then why would I?”
“Because you’re you.”
“What does that mean?” I turn toward him as he sinks into the spot next to me on the couch.
“You’re his best friend, T. Over everyone, you’re the first person he always turns to. We all assumed you knew. Especially when he told us they reconnected when you guys were home for Christmas.”
“Okay, I knew they went out, I didn’t know it went somewhere. Which, obviously, it did because she’s driving to watch him play hockey, something I rarely do for you guys, so.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
There’s something about the way his eyes study me that makes me feel like he knows I’m not. But who am I to say something to Fletcher? If Fletcher is happy, I’ll just have to learn to be okay with it.
“I’m going to take that as a no.”
“It’s not like that.” I tuck my leg under my body, forcing myself to look at Jeremy even more.
“It has nothing to do with Fletcher possibly seeing another girl. We’re just friends; he’s free to see whomever he likes.
It’s the fact that it’s Casey. She’s a horrible person.
” Jeremy’s eyes narrow. “Okay, maybe I don’t know her that well, and maybe she’s changed since high school, but there’s just something about her I don’t like.
It has nothing to do with Fletcher being with someone who isn’t me. ”
“Didn’t you have the same problem with Becca?”
Jere isn’t saying it to be mean or douchey. Honestly, he’s saying it as a matter of fact as possible. And he’s not wrong, not completely, anyway.
“It had nothing to do with Fletch talking to a girl and everything to do with the fact that he abandoned me.”
“Sure. Because you don’t have feelings for him.”
“Exactly.”
“Even though you broke up with your high school boyfriend when you learned Fletcher was single again.”
“That was a coincidence.”
“And both of your only relationships overlapping with each other? What’s that?”
“Also, a coincidence. I’m not with anyone right now—”
“But you hooked up with a Michigan State hockey player after seeing Fletcher with Casey?”
“How did you even know that?”
“Brin has a big mouth.”
“Well, that was unrelated.”
“Sure.”
“It was! Is it so wrong for a girl to want to get laid?”
He takes a swig of his soda before placing it on the coffee table.
“First of all, I’m happy you’re getting laid and all, but I really don’t want to talk about your sex life. Second of all, you know if you were in love with Fletcher, you could tell me.”
“Trust me, Jere, if I felt like I had something to tell you, I would.”
That’s a lie.
I love Jere. He’s the best person I’ve ever met in a lot of ways. It probably helps that he has four sisters, so the right way to treat women was instilled in him on a daily basis, but I also know Fletcher is one of his closest friends.
Fletcher and Jere talk to each other and confide in each other about many things. Fletcher has told me multiple times that out of all the guys, Jere is the one who understands him the best. He can tell all of them anything, but trusts Jeremy’s advice the best.
I don’t want Jeremy to be in an awkward situation if he were to find out I was in love with Fletcher and have been since we were kids. And I don’t want Jeremy to ever have to lie and tell someone I don’t have feelings for Fletcher because he knows I do.
It’s just easier this way.
“I think you guys would be great together.”
It’s all Jeremy says as he leans forward, snatches the remote off the coffee table, and turns on highlights from last night's Blackhawks game. The first game the team has played since the passing of Dylan Rhodes.
I study him, expecting him to bring it up again. To push.
But I should know better.
Because that’s not who Jeremy is… he’ll just wait until I’m ready.
And when I come to him, he’ll know exactly what it’s about.
I’m not in the mood for a party at all.
But our whole crew is going to be at this party, so I feel like I have no choice but to go.
It would seem more suspicious if I didn’t go because of everything going on between Fletcher and me.
Most of the guys don’t see the difference in our relationship, but they also aren’t the most observant. The girls know because I’ve talked to them lightly about the change in our interactions when we’re alone… and Jere. Well, Jere knows everything. He sees everything and picks up on it all.
Plus, Marcus would be devastated if we all didn’t show up to celebrate the fact that they won the National Championship this year.
Which isn’t surprising. This is the team's second win in our three years at Rockford University.
It also means we are surrounded by a whole bunch of college football players, and if there’s one thing that I hate more than parties, it’s parties with football players.
They’re a different breed.
Not that we don’t have a ton of cocky douchebags on our hockey team, some of the seniors can be a bit much, but at least ninety percent of our football team are egotistical douchebags.
Aside from Marcus.
“I thought they had us in the first half.” Marcus chugs half of his beer. “I seriously thought we were gonners.”
“They were winning by two touchdowns, Marcus. I had no doubt that you guys were winning that game.” Zeke taps his beer bottle to Marcus’s.
“Yeah, and they really didn’t put their best foot forward in the second half,” Brinley begins. “It was honestly kind of disappointing to watch. I was hoping for a better game.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Brin.” Marcus chuckles.
“I’m just saying—”
I don’t hear the rest of their conversation. The second my eyes land on Fletcher, staring at his phone, smiling, nothing else seems to matter.
“I’m going to get another drink.” I lean into Ember’s side, and she nods at me as I push off the couch and navigate my way through the crowd of people.
Instead of landing in the kitchen, where all the drinks are, I end up on the deck in the backyard. It’s fucking freezing, but it also doesn’t seem as claustrophobic, so I’ll take this over being inside.
I hang on to the railing and lean back, looking up at the sky and taking a couple of deep breaths. I continue to rock on my heels, just trying to get out of my head and back to Earth before I go back inside.
“Hate parties that much, huh?”
My heart sinks into my chest as I swing around to a guy I’ve never seen before.
“You could say that.”
I do hate parties. When I’m surrounded by people I care about, I can usually get through them, but with everything going on, I just need to escape.
“You’re Tate, right?”
My eyes narrow in on his face as if our paths have crossed, but I just don’t remember.
“Yeah…”
“I’m Isaiah.” He closes the majority of the distance between us, sticking out his hand for my hand to meet his.
I shake his hand and continue to awkwardly stare at him.
“You’re wondering how I know who you are.”
“Kind of.” I force a laugh.
“I play football with Marcus.”
“Oh.”
“He’s talked about you before. Even tried to set up your ex-boyfriend with Becca.”
“My ex-boyfriend?”
“The hockey guy. Kind of looks like a douchebag.”
I chuckle because Fletcher is anything but a douchebag… typically.
He just kind of has one of those faces when he’s just sitting there, not really in the conversation.
“He’s not my ex-boyfriend.”
“So, you got back together?” Isaiah takes another step closer to me.
“We were never dating.”
“You sure about that? The way Marcus talks about your friend group, you guys seemed—”
“We weren’t.”
“So,” he’s so close to me I can see the fog from his warm breath mixing with the cold air, “how would your actual boyfriend feel about you being out here talking to me?”
“Is that your way of finding out if I’m in a relationship without straight up asking me if I’m in a relationship?”
He shrugs.
“Maybe.”
“Sorry, wait, Isaiah, was it?” He gives me a small nod, a smart-assy smirk on his face. “I just, I don’t date athletes.”
I cross my arms and rest against the railing.
“Who said anything about dating?” He leans down; he doesn’t have to lean much because he’s not that much taller than I am, but he does it so we are eye to eye. “I’m just saying, from what I saw, you look like you could use a little fun in your life.”
“And you think that’s you?”
His lips brush against my ear.
“I know it is.”