Chapter 37
thirty-seven
Chris
I’m still in a bit of a daze from my confrontation with Devon when I spy Quinn’s conspicuously vibrant dreadlocks outside a gift shop downtown. She takes one look at me, her surprised grin fading to concern.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“To be honest, I don’t really know. I ran into Devon and—”
She growls. Literally growls, like an overprotective dog. “What did he do now? I swear, if he laid so much as a finger on you, I’ll make sure Oshkoff expels his ass.”
And she would, too, or at the very least, give it her best effort. Quinn’s outrage on my behalf soothes some of my frayed nerves. No matter what happens, I know she’ll have my back.
“We didn’t get into a fistfight. We, uh…talked.”
Her brows shoot up. “I thought you two hated each other.”
My eyes skirt away, roving over the stream of tourists shuffling past us. “Yeah…about that.” It takes a couple attempts, me starting and stopping, but I eventually get the whole story out. “So, yeah,” I finish awkwardly. “I guess it was all some big misunderstanding.”
I expect Quinn to make a joke or shrug it off, then drag me on a shopping spree until it’s time for dinner. I’ll probably even let her convince me to go tonight. Maybe with Devon and me on more solid ground, dinner won’t suck as much, despite the empty seat I’ll have to my left.
But Quinn doesn’t do any of that. Instead, she surges forward and hugs me tight. I’m too surprised to return the hug before she steps back, studying me with an intense look that leaves me vaguely uneasy.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“I never realized things got that bad for you.” I’m shocked to see tears in her eyes that she quickly, almost angrily, swipes away. “I mean, I knew your coming out hadn’t gone great, even if you refused to talk about it. But this…”
I shrug uncomfortably. “It’s fine. I got over it a long time ago.”
She peers at me with a too-knowing gaze. “Did you?”
I open my mouth, but the words stick in my throat.
She nods grimly, pressing her lips in a firm line. “It must’ve sucked, feeling like everyone was against you.”
“Yeah…” Where the hell is Quinn going with this? Reliving the past sure as shit won’t make me feel any better about it.
“I mean, I can only imagine how terrible that would be,” she continues, seemingly oblivious to my growing discomfort. “How alone I’d feel. Especially if I thought even the people who cared about me didn’t have my back.”
I clench my jaw. “I get it, Quinn. My life sucks. What the hell is your point?”
She fixes me with a sad, pitying look that makes my skin crawl. “My point is that you felt like you had no friends, that you were on your own…but you weren’t. You aren’t. So, what I’m wondering is why you’ve convinced yourself to continue believing a lie.”
The question slams into me, threatening to crush me beneath its suffocating weight. “You…that’s…” I want to call it insane, but Quinn’s still oozing sympathy, and instead, I settle for muttering, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Oh?” Her eyes narrow. “Fine, let me lay it out for you. You thought your teammates hated you because you were gay. But now you know that isn’t what happened. They thought you hated them and that you were pushing them away. Yet, just now, you said, ‘My life sucks.’ Present tense.”
“I…” My heartbeat hammers my ribcage as my chest tightens.
“You don’t believe it, do you?” she whispers. “No matter what Devon says, deep down, you still feel like you’re alone.” Her voice turns pleading. “Why, Chris? Why are you so determined to be lonely and miserable?”
“Because I’m worthless!”
The words rip from me in an almost scream.
I ignore the stares I’ve drawn from everyone around us, my eyes fixed on Quinn as I barrel on, the words careening out.
“Because I deserve to be lonely. Of course, no one likes me. Why should they? My own parents think I’m not good enough.
I’ll never be good enough for them. I’ll never be good enough for Coach or the team. I’ll never be good enough for Per—”
I stop myself, clamping a hand over my mouth, but it’s too late. Quinn’s heard too much, especially after our earlier conversation, not to guess what I’d been about to say.
There’s no judgment on her face, however, only sympathy. “How do you know you’ll never be good enough for Percy? Have you asked him?”
“I don’t need to!” I spin away and pace in a tight circle near Quinn, too anxious and restless to remain in one spot.
“He made it perfectly clear how he felt when he pulled away from me again. If he cared about me, then he wouldn’t be so hesitant to consider a future together.
He’d do whatever it took to be with me.” Like I would with him.
“But I’ll never be good enough. Never be worth risking anything on. He’ll never choose me.”
My voice trembles, my whole body shaking. I’m glad Quinn doesn’t try to hug me again because, right then, I’m pretty sure any touch would’ve set me off. She must recognize that because she eyes me like I’m a cornered animal.
When she speaks, her voice comes out soothing. “Just because he’s afraid doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. That he doesn’t want to choose you, even if he doesn’t know how.”
I snort with derision. “You think that makes it any better? Either way, we’ll never be together.”
She shrugs. “Maybe not. I’ll admit, I don’t know enough about what the two of you have to judge how real it is. But I do know that Percy’s not the only one here who’s afraid.”
“I’m not afraid!” My hands ball into fists. “I risked everything for him before! And I’d risk it all again. I’d do anything for him!”
I love him, I don’t quite dare voice aloud.
But maybe she still hears it in my voice, sees it on my face, because her expression softens. “I know. But if Devon’s telling the truth, you’ve already pushed away people who cared about you at least once. Are you sure you’re not doing the same thing again?”
And fuck, that question buries itself in me like Percy’s dagger Steelfang.
Am I pushing Percy away, being unfair to him?
I mean, I know he’s dealing with a lot of his own shit—he’s told me himself about the feelings of inadequacy he’s grappling with, about how torn up he is over the impossible promise he made his mom.
Yet here I am, demanding he fit into a certain mold for me in much the same way he fears everyone else does.
So what if he’s not ready to commit to a lasting relationship?
That doesn’t mean I need to cut off all contact.
Even if we’ll never be together like I want, we can still be friends.
We can still be there to support each other, the way I should have been there to support him when he was dealing with his mom—the way I would have been if I hadn’t stubbornly refused to reach out.
He might have abandoned me two years ago…but hadn’t I done the same to him in return? I’d been so hurt and upset that I’d seen slights everywhere. I’d taken everything personally, assumed everyone was against me—like Devon and my former teammates.
Had…had I made myself alone as a self-fulfilling prophecy by chasing away everyone who cared?
I don’t realize I’m sobbing until Quinn is there, wrapping me in another embrace and offering me her shoulder to cry on, murmuring that it’ll be all right.
God, what a sight we must be, standing out on the street in plain view like this.
I’m surprised no one’s politely asked us to take our mess elsewhere else so our scene doesn’t ruin downtown’s idyllic vibe.
When I’ve gotten myself under control, I pull back, sniffling. “Thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure the night will come when my drunken ass needs the same kind of love. I expect you to be there for me when it does. And no excuses about this moment being wiped away in a resetting time loop!”
“Of course. What are friends for?”
Her expression turns thoughtful, and I brace myself for a new round of insights or another conversation about something I’d rather leave buried.
But all she says is, “Only you can figure out your own shit. But whatever you decide, I’m here.
And by the sound of it, others are too. You are not worthless, so let us help you when you need it. Deal?”
I blink back a fresh wave of wetness. “Deal.”
“Good.” Her eyes gleam, and she looks more like her usual chipper self as her serious demeanor fades. “Now, come on! We’ve got hours of therapeutic shopping ahead of us!”
I let out a loud groan. “Therapeutic for who—you or me?”
Her grin widens. “Why not both?”
There’s nothing particularly special about the rest of the afternoon I spend with Quinn. In fact, it should be dull as we hit up all the same shops we’ve visited during past Saturdays. After revisiting many of them again with Percy, I can practically recite their inventories from memory.
But today, the experience feels different.
Maybe it’s my shift in perspective. I’m still not entirely sure what to think about my discussions with Devon and then with Quinn or how to act upon them.
But I can’t deny that I feel lighter—like a burden I’ve been dragging along with me has finally been lifted.
Of course, any good mood can only last so long.
As it turns out, this one persists right up until the moment my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I could just ignore it—that’s what I’ve done basically every other Saturday since the first. But today, something compels me to answer.
Maybe pouring out my guts to Quinn left me weirdly emboldened.
Or maybe I’m too over this bullshit to care.
Whatever the reason, I find myself stepping out of the store and raising my phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Christopher!” Even though I’m expecting it, I still wince and move my ear back from the receiver at my mom’s shrill exclamation. “I am glad we caught you. Are you safe? You know I do not like the idea of you in the wilderness.”