24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dallas
That place in the sand that Beck and I were last night is burned into my retinas as I sit in my lawn chair, courtesy of Elliott and Portia.
I can’t stop staring at it.
Nothing happened last night, okay?
Which is a relief, really. Except, the thought burns out in my stomach. Obviously, there is a part of me that’s not relieved at all.
I can’t get it out of my head, the place where nothing of consequence happened except two people who were reduced to laughing so hard we ended up in tears. My abs hurt today, and I can’t tell if it’s because of the volleyball moves I tried or the laughing. Maybe some of both.
Is there still an imprint in the sand where we were lying, shoulder to shoulder, telling each other to focus on the stars so we could calm down? Am I imagining two body-shaped indents there even now, mocking me that I’ve never had such an enjoyable time, ever, as I did last night?
The range of emotions, from flirtatious behavior to serious talks about our heartbreaks and my career woes to hitting Beck in the face with the ball—or I guess the jaw, to be precise—and being reduced to crazy hysterical kids, astounds me. My emotions never swung to such a range of heights when I was dating Holden.
Another point of confusion: Beck hasn’t kissed me yet. Which is a good thing. I know this. But I certainly wouldn’t hate it if he did. Although, the lines between work and friendship and something else entirely would be blurred beyond understanding.
As I watch the volleyball match—it’s legit. Leo’s team is good—I can’t help but wonder where Beck and I are.
Like, what is this?
I crave to be around him. I think of being in his arms just as much as I think about joking around with him, or talking about serious things.
And, as I watch, I cringe every time I see his jaw that is, just like I predicted, sporting a bruise.
I did that, and it’s equal parts horrifying and embarrassing. I overheard Elliott asking Beck about it and Beck refusing to say. “It was just a little accident. I’m fine. It’s nothing,” he said. I can’t decide if the reason Beck’s not saying it was me is because he’s embarrassed about the whole thing or he’s trying to protect me. Or more likely, maybe he didn’t tell his brother because then he’d have to admit that he and I were on the beach at night, again, when all things considered, we really shouldn’t have been.
In a break between sets, where Beck’s team, Busta Spike, narrowly beat their opponent, Portia places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m working on an email to you with a bunch of sample photos of things I’d like to use in the wedding.”
“Great. I’ll look over it tonight.”
“You don’t have to. It’s outside of working hours. You and Billy should just hang out.” She winks and flips her long, shiny black hair over one shoulder, her smile lighting up her face.
I decide to ignore the Beck slash Billy comment, mostly because I really wish that I could do just that—hang out with him tonight. “Girl, work is fun for me. I’m going to love poring over your ideas and seeing what finishes we can find that will work. Besides, we’ve got to get going. There are only three months until the big day.”
She flashes a bright smile, showing her even, white teeth. “I’ve always wanted a short engagement, although it does make it harder to plan everything. That’s why I don’t want anything too elaborate. It has to be about us as people, you know?”
“Definitely.” A feeling of apprehension stalls me for a moment. It’s not lost on me that Beck’s brother’s wedding is a big deal. I need to get this right.
“That is the most important thing, Portia,” I continue. “And it will happen. We’ll pull it all together.” A little pep talk I’ve made a hundred times, but this time it’s sitting heavy on me because it’s Beck’s relatives.
The next set, Beck’s team loses and Leo, who’s arguably the best on the team, is getting heated. Like, he’s actually red over his sunburn, and he’s sweating under his sandy head of hair. But there’s another vibe going on, too, and Beck can sense it. He’s staring at Leo like he has to decide whether or not to pull him from the game and bench him.
During the break between sets, Beck takes Leo away from the rest of the team for some serious and businessy coach talk. I can’t tell exactly what he’s saying, but it’s intense, whatever it is, and Leo’s only staring past him, no sign of recognition on his face that he even hears anything.
Elliott chuckles. “Billy’s gotta remember this is teen beach volleyball, not the Olympics.”
“I appreciate the passion,” I say, before I realize what I’ve said. “For the game,” I add hastily.
Both Elliott and Portia give me side-eye.
I deserve it for saying something like that, but I still squirm under their gaze.
Busta Spike ties the third set, putting them into a sudden death situation. At least I think that’s what’s happening. All I know is there’s this big weighty cloud over everything, an intensity amongst the players and crowd.
My attempts to figure out what’s going on falter, but then it’s over, and from the groans of the parents as the team lines up to shake hands, I fear the worst. “They lost, right?”
Portia laughs. “Pretty sure, yes. I’m not well-versed in beach volleyball.”
“Me, neither! Man, this whole time I thought I was the only one who didn’t know what was going on.”
She slings an arm around me and laughs. “Next game, we’ll commiserate together.”
And I don’t know what’s wrong with me, maybe the phantom of Beck’s and my little human-shaped forms that I swear are still there in the sand, but I actually feel a little sentimental over that comment from Portia. Like I somehow belong here…like I belong in the Billingsleys’ lives.
We approach Beck and his face is grave.
“Hey.” I hope my voice is kind, but not condescending or peppy. “You’ve got a good team on your hands. Sorry it didn’t end in your favor this time.”
His face is etched with concern, and he shakes his head. “It’s okay. Have you seen Leo?”
“I don’t know. He was here at the end of the game, right?” I swing my head around to look, and Elliott and Portia do the same.
“Yeah. But he beelined out of here right after shaking the other team’s hands. Something’s wrong.”
“It’s the first game of the season and a loss. He’ll be okay,” Elliott says.
“No, it was something from before. He came to the game like that.” Beck takes out his phone from his bag and types quickly. “His mom had to work late, so she couldn’t make it, but I’m texting them both. Maybe she’s heard from him.”
Elliott and Portia wait until he’s done texting before they talk a little more about the game.
After they’ve gone, Beck asks a couple of players if they know where Leo is and when they say no, he presses his phone to his ear, pacing, scanning the horizon. His concern is sweet, and I’m struck with the thought that Beck’s going to be a good dad someday. What I’m supposed to do with that knowledge, I don’t know. But he will be.
This thought somehow invigorates me. I need to help him find Leo. “Any luck?” I ask him when he puts his phone back in his bag.
He shakes his head. “He might have gotten a ride home from someone on the team.” He lets out a breath. “I’ll keep trying to get ahold of him. I’ll go to my place and see if he turns up.”
I nod. “I meant what I said. You’ve got a great team. There’s a lot of promise there for a good season.”
He softens and grasps my shoulder. “Thank you. And thanks for coming. Honestly, knowing you were here, catching glimpses of you watching, hearing you cheer…it was nice.”
“I had a blast, despite the sad outcome.”
“We’ll get ‘em next time.”
“Yes, you will.” I hesitate. “I have to go. I have an online meeting with one of my brides this evening. She lives on the West Coast, so I’m working around her schedule.”
“I like how you call them your brides.”
“It’s probably not very healthy, but I sometimes feel like they’re mine after all we go through. Hey, will you let me know when you find Leo and how he’s doing? Hopefully he’ll work it out somehow and start to feel better. Maybe it was nerves over it being the first game and all?”
“Yeah. And maybe he was thinking of his dad and how he’s not here…” Beck trails off, his gaze going to the sand.
I know Leo’s dad meant a lot to Beck, and my heart tenses at the rawness in his expression. “That definitely could be it.”
He squeezes my shoulder again and gives a little whimpering grunt. Almost like he wished he could hug me. I wish we could, too, and I go on my tiptoes and press my arms around his shoulders. His skin is all warm from the sun and the heat coming up from the sand. How he manages to still smell like nutty pine, I’ll never know. But I sure do love it.
I pull away and hurry to my car, the thoughts, sight, and scent of Beck consuming me.
*****
“I don’t know if you’re finished with your online meeting—” Beck hesitates on the phone two hours later, his voice taut and tired.
“I’m finished with that. I just ate a big bowl of soup from a can. Very busy around here, obviously.” Great. Now he knows how boring and lonely my after-work nights can be.
“It’s just that…well, it’s hard to explain, but can you come over?” He groans and I swear I hear his palm smack his forehead.
Of course I can. Nothing’s stopping me except for my urge to pore over online wedding magazines like I do more nights than I care to admit.
Hey. It’s work-related research!
“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” I tell him.
I don’t know what’s got him in a low-key state of panic. Could be Leo, could be the mansion. Whatever it is, I want to be there for him.
I arrive at his place and ring his doorbell, and he swings the door open within seconds. His face has that same look—lined with worry.
“It’s Leo. He’s going through some stuff.” Beck scratches the back of his neck. “Can you talk to him? We thought maybe the womanly perspective would…” He trails off and I don’t know why, but Beck calling me womanly has me all melty.
I’ll gladly be womanly anytime, Beck.
“Of course.”
Beck leads me to the living room where Leo’s sitting on the couch, his shoulders slumped, his forearms resting on his knees. He’s barefoot and in a tank top and shorts. He looks young and vulnerable.
Leo glances up at me before returning his gaze to the floor. “I don’t need any advice.”
Alrighty then.
“Good because I don’t have any,” I say. “In fact I don’t even know why Beck asked me to come. Just that he really cares about you. That’s all I know.”
A long pause and then Leo sighs. “I no longer have a date to Prom, which really sucks.” Anger curls around his words, “—especially since the people we were going to go with are all upset at me like it’s my fault.”
I have so many questions to ask, but I know I should take it slow. Beck sits on the sofa across from Leo, so I choose the overstuffed chair in the corner.
“Oh man. That’s not good.”
I wait a long while and finally, Leo speaks again.
“Ella says she just doesn’t want to go to Prom with me now. She says we don’t click anymore. What does that even mean?” Leo says, his eyes rimmed with red.
Oh rejection. Something I’m all too familiar with myself. I ask a couple of questions about Ella and discover that he’s liked her all year and felt like he’d won the lottery when she started hanging out with him. When she’d accepted his invitation to Prom, he was on cloud nine.
Beck’s listening to me intently, his eyes boring into me. I flash a smile and then look away. It’s not my idea of fun to talk so vulnerably with a teen, but Leo needs to know I can empathize.
“Only a few weeks ago, my boyfriend broke up with me,” I say. “He said we didn’t have enough in common. It hurt a lot. But what hurt way more was finding out, from my aunt, that my cousin and my ex started dating soon after he and I broke up and that things had gotten serious between them very quickly.”
Leo looks up. He’s watching me intently as I take a deep breath and continue on. “It hurt me to be dumped. It hurt to have been wrong to date him in the first place—and trust me, he was wrong for me. And it hurts that he’s dating my cousin. But the worst part about it is that McKenna didn’t tell me. She lied about it and hid it from me. I understand it’s hard to tell me, but I would have thought she could have. It really sucks that she didn’t treat me the way I deserve to be treated: with respect.”
“That does really suck,” Leo says sadly.
“Even if Ella was nice to you before, it sounds like the way she’s handled things lately is a red flag. Sounds like she’s not treating you kindly or with respect.”
Beck raises his brows at this.
“Anyway, my point is, no matter how attractive someone is, it’s what’s inside that’s important, how they treat others.”
Beck nods, and I think of him, how he’s genuinely kind and good. And bonus, he’s not bad to look at, either!
“Yeah,” Leo says. “But I still wish she’d say, ‘Never mind, I do want to go to Prom with you.’ It feels like she’s playing games with me.”
“That makes sense. I can tell you really wanted to go with her. Is there someone else you could ask? Someone who you know you’d have fun with? Maybe not someone you’d like as much as Ella, but someone you could relax and be yourself with?”
“I don’t want to think about that right now. But maybe.”
I stand and go sit on the same couch as Leo. Oh, I can feel the sadness oozing from him.
Leo glances at me and then at Beck. “Can you believe that last set today?” he asks, after which he and Beck launch into a twenty-minute discussion about the match and all the ins and outs of the plays and calls. Beck’s intense. Maybe he really does think he’s coaching the Olympics?
A ringtone sounds and Leo yanks his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. “My mom’s calling me again. I should go home.”
Beck stands. “Hey, Leo. If you decide you want to ask someone else to Prom, I know the perfect place you could have the meal.”
“Really?” The firstlings of a smile appear on Leo’s face as he stares at Beck. “You’d actually let us do it?”
Beck twists his mouth to one side and shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s about to say. “Uh huh. But you have to bring the food in. No cooking in there. And I won’t charge you a penny. Except for a $50 deposit that I’ll refund after you and your friends have cleaned the heck out of it the next day, okay?”
Leo sticks out his hand and Beck shakes it. “Done. If I decide to ask someone else.”
“Alright.” Beck’s smile is gentle. “Now get home before your mom starts calling me.”
“Hey,” I say to Leo as he’s heading to the kitchen and the back door. “Just so you know, I think you’ve got a lot to offer any girl out there, Leo.”
He breathes out a gust of breath and gives one resigned nod before disappearing into the kitchen. I see Beck just in time to see a look cross his face, a gentle, loving look.
Right at me.