Chapter 15
This Is Me Trying
Dylan
He hadn’t slept.
Couldn’t eat. Could barely breathe.
The team left the grill not long after the party ended in disaster. Coach Busby knew something had happened, could tell by the look on Dylan’s face when he’d finally caught up with him in the parking lot— ashen, silent, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned bone white.
But it didn’t matter.
Team travel was a legal obligation. They couldn’t just let players disappear mid-bowl weekend. Especially in an entirely different state.
So Dylan sat stiff and hollow on the charter bus all night, replaying the scene on a torturous loop.
Ali, wild-eyed and humiliated. Her expression cracking into something he would never forget— panic, betrayal, despair— as she turned and ran.
And him, frozen.
Frozen like a coward.
Not because he didn’t care.
Because he cared so damn much.
He had never seen cruelty like that, not even from Daisy. Not until that moment.
And Ali thought he was ashamed of her.
When he finally made it back to Peach Cove, he drove like a madman the final hour home. Called. Texted. Called again.
But Ali never answered.
Her phone started going straight to voicemail sometime around sunrise.
His stomach churned. He’d been praying she just needed space. That she was at home. Maybe crying, maybe angry— but safe.
But the Presley house was empty.
The porch light was off. The curtains were drawn. No cars in the drive.
It felt… wrong.
Panic clawed its way up his throat.
He drove to her aunt and uncle’s house next, nearly blowing through a red light to get there. They might know where the Presleys were.
Ashley answered the door in sweatpants and a dark green Georgia University hoodie, eyes rimmed with red. She shouldn’t be here. Should be in Macon at school.
He didn’t even have to ask.
She just shook her head, and her voice cracked when she said, “She’s at the hospital, Dylan.”
He staggered back a step, like her words had slapped him.
“She came home last night. Aunt Heather heard the alarm go off and figured she just needed space, unsure of what was going on. But when they didn’t hear from her after a while…” Ashley swallowed hard. “They found her in the bathroom. Pills. A lot of them.”
His lungs locked up. He bent over, palms on his knees, trying to stop the world from spinning.
“She’s alive,” Ashley added quickly. “Stable. But in bad shape. She’s not… she’s not okay, Dylan. She’s scared. Ashamed. She hasn’t said much, but they’re going to transfer her to a mental health facility in Savannah. Probably today or tomorrow. She’s not in a place where she’s safe to be alone.”
He closed his eyes.
And the sob hit him so hard he nearly fell.
He’d never felt more helpless than when they told him no.
No, you can’t go back there.
No, she’s not taking visitors.
No, she’s being evaluated.
No, unless you’re immediate family.
But he didn’t leave.
He paced the sterile lobby like a caged animal, pain simmering just beneath his skin. Eventually, Heather Presley emerged with swollen eyes and trembling hands. She didn’t say much— just looked him in the face and nodded.
“I’m going to tell them you’re family,” she whispered. “Because you are.”
The doors buzzed open. A nurse escorted him down a dim hallway painted in washed-out shades of green and beige. Everything felt wrong. Cold. Too quiet.
Then they reached her room.
And nothing in all his life— not football injuries, not fights with Daisy, not even watching Ali run out of that party— could’ve prepared him for the sight of her sitting cross-legged on a hospital bed in a pair of socks and a gown, pale and hollow-eyed, her hair in a messy bun, hands folded tightly in her lap like she was trying to hold herself together with sheer will.
He almost hit his knees.
She looked up when the door opened, and the breath left her body in one visible, shuddering exhale.
“Dylan…”
His name came out barely a whisper, like it hurt to say.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He didn’t move any closer, not yet. Didn’t know if she wanted him to. But she didn’t look away.
“Ali,” he rasped.
A single tear slipped down her cheek. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I had to.” His voice cracked. “You left, and I didn’t know if you were— if I’d lost you. I was going out of my fucking mind.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I thought you were ashamed of me.”
“No.” He crossed the room then. Dropped to his knees beside her bed like a prayer.
“I was frozen. I was furious! I was trying not to lose it in front of the entire goddamn student body. But not at you. Never at you. I was ashamed of Daisy. I was ashamed I didn’t stop it.
But you?” He reached for her hand. “You’re the only thing in my life I’ve ever been proud to love. ”
A sound cracked from her chest like a broken sob. She curled her fingers around his and let herself cry.
“I wanted to die,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to hurt anymore. Not from Daisy. Not from school. Not from the way people look at me like I don’t belong. I— I can’t keep trying to outrun it.”
His eyes burned. “You don’t have to outrun it. I’ll carry it with you. I’ll fight for you. I’ll walk through fire for you, Ali, if you’d just—”
She shook her head. “It’s too much, Dylan.”
“No—”
“Yes.” Her voice was firmer now, even though her eyes stayed wet. “I love you. God, I love you so much. But it’s killing me. I almost died, Dylan. You can’t ask me to go back to that place. To be her punching bag. To pretend that being with you doesn’t make everything harder.”
He closed his eyes. “You don’t have to go back there. You don’t have to deal with her. We can figure something else out. Please—”
Ali stood, gently tugging her hand away from his. She moved to the little table and held up a folded letter. When she turned, her shoulders were straight. Her eyes glassy.
“I’m going to Savannah,” she said softly.
“They’ve got a long-term program there. And I’ve already applied to transfer to Bellamy Community College in Honeyshore for the spring.
I’m going to get my Associates Degree in Accounting.
Something stable. Something quiet. My dad can help me since he’s a senior partner at Whitestone, ya know. ”
“You’re not quiet,” he whispered. “You’re the loudest thing my heart has ever heard.”
She crumpled into his arms then, both of them weeping. He kissed her temple, her shoulder, her wrist— right over the scar that had started all of this. She touched his face like she was memorizing it.
“I’m blocking your number,” she said. “Not because I don’t love you. But because I do. Because I have to get better. I have to find out if I can be okay without anyone saving me. And you deserve someone stronger than me, Dylan. Someone who won’t ever bring you down.”
His tears soaked into her hair. “You already are someone worth saving.”
Their kiss goodbye was quiet and endless and made of every word they couldn’t say. Then she stepped back.
And Dylan walked out with his hands clenched, his heart shattered, and no idea how he was supposed to finish the semester & graduate when his entire world had just walked into a psych ward and he didn’t know when— if— she was ever coming back.