Chapter Twenty-Seven
SAMMIE: brOTHER IN law
Kai: Nope.
Sammie: I mean, basically
Kai: Cart before the horse, sis.
Sammie: Now that isn’t fair
Kai: I don’t make the rules.
Kai: What’s up?
Sammie: Remember how you told me the devs sent you an early version of the new DragonRaid game?
Kai: Yeah, beat it last night, it’s great.
Kai: I didn’t know you were into that series?
Sammie: Well, I’m not
Sammie: But Ivy is
Kai: No.
Kai: If it got back to the studio they’d get me blacklisted.
Sammie: PLEASE
Sammie: I WILL DO ANYTHING
Kai: Besides, it’s a digital download, it’s on my console.
Sammie: I’ll tell you what Attie said he wants for Christmas
Sammie: I know he doesn’t say he wants things around you because you always buy them
Kai: …
Kai: Deal.
Kai: If either of you fuck this up for me I’ll leak the group chat.
Sammie: There’s nothing incriminating in the group chat?
Kai: What about the night you ranked each and every player on the Cats roster by how fuckable they were, with commentary from their beloved athletic trainer?
Sammie: …
Sammie: Deal
Sammie hesitated in the flickering lights of the quiet hall, scuffing the toe of her boot against the thin, faded green carpet. She shifted the grocery bag of snacks from one hand to the other, then back. Her backpack, stuffed full with Kai’s Xbox, weighed heavy on her shoulders.
Just knock on the fucking door. Knock, say sorry, hold up the goodie bag of peace offerings, and hope for the best.
Raising a fist, Sammie got one solid rap against the door in before it swung open wide. Ivy stood before her, one brow quirked up, lips pinched as though she were… trying not to laugh?
“Hi.” Sammie stood before her friend, the apology she’d rehearsed a thousand times slipping from her mind like smoke.
Ivy cocked her head to the side, one hand on her hip.
She looked as though she hadn’t been expecting anyone, which made sense considering Sammie had shown up with zero notice.
Figured she had a better chance that way, if she didn’t give Ivy time to bolt.
“You’ve been standing there for three minutes.” Ivy pushed wispy strands of dark hair back from her face, tucking them back into the messy bun piled on top of her head.
Sammie flushed. “You knew?”
A laugh escaped Ivy, small and breathy, but still a laugh. A flicker of hope lit in Sammie’s chest. Ivy pointed to the side of the door, where a doorbell camera had been mounted.
“Oh.” Sammie flushed harder. “That’s new.”
Ivy rolled her eyes and sighed. “One too many porch pirates. I hooked it up last week.” A pause, an awkward one, as she clearly weighed her options. Let Sammie in and hear her out, or slam the door in her face?
Sammie was sure her friend would go with the latter option and was already bracing herself for the inevitable disappointment when Ivy swung the door open wider and gestured an arm toward her apartment. “Come on,” was all she said before turning away, heading toward her tiny kitchen.
For a moment, Sammie wanted to run. There was still time to get away, to feign an excuse so she would have more time to come up with a way to fix the rift between them. Because suddenly her small offerings seemed woefully inadequate when compared to the loss of Ivy’s friendship.
But Sammie never had liked putting things off. Sitting in the bad feelings, waiting around for some magical solution to appear on a wish. It never truly helped. It would just give her more time to dwell on all the ways she’d screwed up, and would make any attempt at an apology that much scarier.
Sammie followed Ivy into the apartment.
She always liked coming to Ivy’s place. There was color everywhere.
No rhyme or reason to any of it, just bright swirls of the rainbow on every surface.
A purple suede coach with an orange throw draped over the back, white pillows covered in crocheted flowers placed neatly at each end.
Thrift store paintings and prints lining the walls of the living room, trailing into the open kitchen.
Instead of any sort of dining table, Ivy’s PC setup took up the majority of the room’s free space.
Sammie dropped the grocery bag onto the counter and began to pull out the snacks, stuffing them into Ivy’s bubblegum pink cabinets.
She’d asked once if Ivy was technically allowed to change the space this much, considering she was just renting.
Ivy had shrugged and said she wasn’t a fan of asking permission, it could all be painted back if she eventually left.
“What’s in the backpack?”
Ivy leaned back against the counter, watching Sammie stall by organizing the snacks for the third time. She crossed her arms, chin tilted up as she stared with narrowed eyes.
Sammie coughed, clearing her throat of, well, nothing. “It’s a surprise.” She gave up on pretending she had anything else to do with her hands, letting them fall to the side as she turned toward Ivy. “I’ll only give it to you if you let me apologize.”
Ivy huffed out a laugh. “Apologize away, I won’t stop you.” The rest was left unsaid. But I don’t have to forgive you.
Two deep breaths, one to settle Sammie’s nerves, one to bolster her courage.
“I’ve been a bad friend. I made things weird when I didn’t need to.
I’ve wanted to tell you everything that’s been going on with me…
with Kieran, but I didn’t because I’d twisted it all up in my head.
I never should have shut you out, it wasn’t fair of me and I wish I could take it back.
” The words tumbled out of her, a dam unleashing, and Sammie felt her fear slipping away on the current with every truth she let spill out.
“I was afraid,” she continued. Ivy only watched, though her gaze was no longer narrowed into something sharp.
No, her features had relaxed, her eyes growing wide as she took in every word that Sammie said.
“I was so afraid that I was going to lose you over something that I should have just talked to you about. If I’d just faced your feelings head on in the beginning, if I’d just been honest about all of it, about my own feelings for him and the things I was afraid of, it never would have gone bad like this.
” Sammie cut off, sucking in one last breath to steady herself.
Gentle tears pricked her eyes and slipped past her lashes.
“I’m sorry, Ivy. You didn’t deserve to be shut out, and I wish I could go back and change it.”
Silence stretched between them. Sammie wiped her wet cheeks with a hand, every second that passed adding to the weight on her shoulders.
Ivy didn’t have to forgive her, Sammie knew that.
She’d been a shitty friend, and there would be consequences for that.
Their relationship might never be the same, and Sammie couldn’t—
“Thank you.”
Two words from Ivy, said with a soft smile, and Sammie gave up on holding back her tears. She sniffled as Ivy grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter, passing it over.
“Thank you,” Ivy repeated. “For all of that.” Her words were thick with emotion to match Sammie’s.
“I’ve been scared for weeks, ever since you started pushing me away.
So scared that I fucked up another friendship, that my feelings were so big they were going to push away one more person that I cared about. ”
“This wasn’t your fault,” Sammie interjected, but Ivy waved her comments off.
“No, but that doesn’t change the fact that you felt like you’d been backed into a corner.
But Sammie, it was never like that. I crush on every attractive woman that I cross paths with.
And I never said anything about feeling any sort of way toward you because it didn’t matter.
You matter to me, full stop. And if something was going to happen between us, it would have happened a long time ago.
I know you, Sammie! You’re just like your brother.
The two of you carry a torch better than anyone I’ve ever known.
It was never going to be me, Sammie, and I’m okay with that. ”
Ivy stopped, pulling in a shaky breath as she looked down at the black and white tiled floor.
Sammie fought against the urge to wring her hands together, to start picking at one of her nails.
But then Ivy looked up at her with the sweetest smile, and Sammie knew, somewhere deep in her chest, that they were going to be okay.
“Your friendship means so much more to me than any what if scenarios,” Ivy said. “I would never give that up just because you didn’t return my feelings. You’re worth more to me than that. Even if you’re impulsive, and anxious, and you jump to conclusions, and you run away at the first sign of tr—”
Sammie surged forward, yanking Ivy into a hug. Their height difference had Ivy’s face pressed straight into Sammie’s chest, but she didn’t care. As Ivy’s arms snaked around her waist, as her friend hugged her back, Sammie felt as though she’d come home.
Because that’s what home was, right? Not a house that was falling apart at the seams. Not a farm that had been in the family for generations.
Not a colorful apartment. Home was an idea.
It was the people that made the hard parts of life feel just a little more manageable.
It was the friends that didn’t just hold out a hand to help, but that caught her before she could fall beyond reach.
It was the memories and the laughter and the tears that painted a picture more vivid than any on the walls around her.
“I’m sorry.” Sammie breathed the words into the top of Ivy’s head, stray hairs tickling her nose.
“Don’t get snot in my hair!” Ivy pushed back from the hug, and Sammie let her go. It wasn’t hard, letting Ivy slip from her grasp, not when she knew that it wouldn’t be forever. Ivy swiped at her own tears. “Now, what’s the surprise?”
Sammie let out a thick laugh, snatching another tissue. She swung the backpack off her shoulders. “Promise you won’t screech like a banshee.”
“I’m not promising that.”
“And that you won’t tell anyone.”
“I can maybe promise that.”
Sammie left the kitchen, Ivy at her heels, and had the console hooked up in record time. She handed Ivy the controller as they both sank onto the couch.
“So this is what the snacks were for,” Ivy said, practically vibrating as she pulled her legs up onto the couch, tucking into the corner, a pillow in her lap to rest her arms on, the perfect picture of a gamer.
“I figured that if you forgave me it might end up being a long night.”
Ivy hummed, curiosity softening her features as the loading screen faded away. It was replaced by the main menu, which showed the last game Kai had been playing. DragonRaid IV, the upcoming installment in one of Ivy’s favorite series, by her favorite developer.
Ivy let out a screech that even a banshee would be impressed by.
“Why is your family asking me to pass along information to you?”
Kieran sighed, his fingers tightening around his cellphone. Kenna sure did have a way of jumping right to the point.
“We aren’t exactly speaking right now,” he finally replied, pinching the phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he folded a t-shirt just so. Laundry was a chore that usually helped to settle his mind. Monotonous, repetitive tasks always calmed him.
“Why?”
No flattery, no subtlety.
“It’s a long story.”
“Surely it’s not.”
Kieran frowned. “You’re kind of a dick.” He could picture Kenna shrugging in response.
“So are you,” she said. “Why are your parents mad at you?”
Kieran dropped the shirt he was folding, sinking down on his mattress next to the pile of clothes he’d been using as a way to avoid his problems for the afternoon. “I warned you.”
“I’ve got time.” His cousin’s tone softened, just a bit, enough that Kieran decided it probably was as good a time as any to spill all his secrets.
So he did. Kieran told Kenna everything, just as he had told his friends on the team. The afternoon light filtering in through his bedroom window faded as he went on, until the shadow cast by the tripod across the room grew long, an arrow of blame pointed directly at Kieran.
“You’ve been reading too many romance novels,” Kenna said, after Kieran wrapped up his long-winded confession. “This kind of shit doesn’t happen in real life.”
“It obviously does.”
“What are you gonna do to fix it?”
“Which part?” Because Kieran had somehow managed to land himself in hot water twice. Sammie had ended things between them, leaving Kieran reeling from feelings he still didn’t understand, and he’d somehow managed to finally be the disappointment his parents had always feared.
“Probably the parent situation first.” Kenna paused, a weighty silence that had Kieran leaning forward as he waited for her to continue. “That’s why I called. Your dad’s surgery got moved up to next week. Aunt Mere asked me to let you know.”
Next week. Grant would be getting his hip replaced next week, before Kieran left for the tournament.
“Just to be clear,” Kenna continued. “I’m not going to keep being a messenger like this. I only agreed to tell you because I’m a nosy bitch. Sure wasn’t expecting a story like that though. Being the go-between really paid off this time.”
Kieran ignored her attempts to rile him. “Can you send me the details?”
“Yes.” Another pause. “But you should let them know you’ll be there.”
Because Kieran would be there, regardless of any bad feelings between them. He’d already been planning to fly back home mid-tourney if necessary. Just because his team needed him, just because they were a family to him, didn’t mean that his blood family wasn’t just as important to him.
“I will.” He should probably call, even though a quick text was significantly more appealing.
“Great. So what about your other… situation?”
“I’m going to fix that too.” He could feel Kenna’s piercing stare through the phone.
“You really like her don’t you?
Kieran hesitated, tugging a shirt out of the pile.
It was one Sammie had left behind at some point over the last month.
A band tee, some emo group that Kieran had never heard of, cut-off so that it hung just above her waist. Kieran could still picture her in it, the way the fabric brushed over her skin, showing off the slight swell of her stomach that Kieran loved to run his hands over.
Kieran didn’t like Sammie. But he wasn’t ready to put a different word to what he did feel.
“Enough to fix it,” he finally said. Kenna chuckled on the other end of the line.
“Grand gesture style?”
Kieran snorted. “That’s what I’m going for.”
“The romance novel brainrot is finally paying off.”
He folded Sammie’s shirt neatly, placing it next to the small stack of his own t-shirts.
“I hope so.”