Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
Aspen
Late August
I don’t realize I’m heading to the dorms until I’m already there.
Already throwing my car in park in the closest spot and walking up the path to the building, desperation clawing at my throat.
It’s like my body went on autopilot on the drive back, and all I could think about once I hit the Oregon state line was getting to him.
Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. My heart has always been connected to Keene. Called to him in a way it never has for anyone else. If only I wasn’t stupid enough to take that for granted, choosing to cherish his more than my pride.
I guess eight weeks on the road, doing a lifetime’s worth of soul searching, will clarify some shit. Put it in perspective until the things that matter take their place, front and center.
And God, did it ever work.
Seeing him is the only thing that matters right now. I didn’t bother getting gas or stopping at home to drop off my bags. All signs pointed to him and only him.
To get him back, tell him I love him…and most importantly, that I’m sorry.
I just hope I’m not too late. Because months apart can do a lot. Change a lot.
Just look at the amount of growth I’ve made in that time.
Who’s to say Keene hasn’t found someone else? Someone actually worthy of his love and time and affection. Who won’t run away like I did.
That fear alone would’ve sent me running back here. Straight to him.
Or, as straight to him as possible, considering I have no way of getting into his dorm with my ID card this year. Which I didn’t really think about until I’m standing locked outside the dorm building.
“Shit,” I mutter, pacing in front of the door.
Even if I snuck in as someone else came out, the RA at the front desk is sure to send me straight out here again. Even if it’s the same blonde girl from last year who was known to have a little leniency. Damn sticklers for the rules.
Then again, I used to be one of them, keeping to a rigid structure to live by. That is, until Keene went and flipped my whole world upside down.
Trying another option, I pull his contact up on my phone and hit the call button, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Damnit.
My options have dwindled down to one thing now. Sitting and waiting, hoping I catch him coming or going and can convince him to hear me out. It’s warm and breezy for late August, and the clouds swirling overhead look like thunderheads.
But I’m not gonna leave. Come rain or storm or Hell or high water, I’m seeing him.
I’ll wait here all fucking night if I have to.
Guess all that paying attention I did in science class paid off, because those clouds were definitely thunderheads. Sure as shit, it started pouring down about half an hour ago, and even though I’m under the overhang of the dorm entrance, the wind’s making it close to impossible to stay dry.
My brain’s telling me to give up and come back in the morning, but the stubbornness in my heart won’t let me.
And it’s a good thing too, because about an hour later, I finally spot him rushing up the walk to the dorm.
His duffle’s held up over his head as he sprints toward cover from the storm.
He’s so occupied with trying to keep himself dry, he almost runs straight into me when he reaches the top step.
Thankfully, he glances up when he hits the landing, halting in place when his brain registers my presence.
And the look on his face…well, let’s just say he doesn’t look thrilled to see me.
Soaked to the bone, jaw set tight, and eyes cold, he asks, “What’re you doing here?”
I wet my lips and swallow. “I came to see you.”
He snorts. “Why? To let me know you’re back? Or were you planning to let my mom clue me in on that little fact weeks later too?”
Fuck.
Not my finest moment, letting Loraine break the news that I left on a journey of self-discovery by myself.
He wasn’t supposed to know at all, because I didn’t want to hurt him even more than I already have.
Yet another mistake I’ve made when it comes to us, since the look on his face tells me it did.
But I knew I couldn’t tell him. If I saw him or spoke to him, I wouldn’t have gone. And if I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have figured myself out and I wouldn’t be here right now, ready to beg on my hands and knees for his forgiveness.
“It wasn’t like that,” I whisper, shoving my hands in my pockets. “I just couldn’t—”
His lips thin into a line and he scoffs.
It’s enough to cause me to stop mid-sentence, needing to know what he has to say, no matter how much it hurts.
Except he starts laughing. At first, it sounds ironic, but then it turns into something a little more manic and empty. Neither of which sound right on him.
“Two months, Pen,” is all he says.
And the amount of guilt I feel crashes down on me all at once as I nod, still holding his gaze.
He scoffs again, a newly lit wave of fury in his eyes.
“Months have gone by, and save for a single goddamn text on my birthday, I haven’t heard from you.
You left the goddamn state, not bothering to say goodbye or even clue me in on your plan to get as far away from me as you could.
Shit, you could’ve been dead on the side of the road or joined the cabbage patch and I wouldn’t have fucking known. ”
His anger flows into me, igniting my own anger inside me. Not at him, but at myself, though it wouldn’t appear that way from the outside.
“It wasn’t about you, Keene,” I hiss. “It was about me. About figuring myself out so I didn’t bring you down with me.”
“That’s just it, though! You made this about you, when we could’ve figured it out together!
” he snaps, his cheeks beginning to tint with anger.
“Just like everything else before that day, we could’ve walked that path together.
Leaned on each other the way we have since we were kids.
You’re the one who took that away from us.
You chose to run away when shit got tough instead of trusting me to be there to catch you when you fell! ”
His words cause me to wince as guilt rushes through me. The truth in them is blatantly obvious, and it causes the self-loathing in me to escalate dramatically.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, doing my best to calm myself. “I wasn’t thinking—”
“You were thinking, Aspen,” he says, shaking his head, droplets of water flinging off the ends of his hair when he does. “The problem is, while I was thinking about you and me and us in that moment on the field, you were busy just thinking about yourself.”
The words cut deep, as the truth often does.
All I can do is nod.
He’s right. The only thing on my mind was saving myself. From pain or judgment or embarrassment; at this point, it doesn’t matter.
I screwed up, and now it’s time to own it.
But before I can, he asks a question I wasn’t really prepared for.
“Where’d you go?” His jaw ticks as he stares at me, clearly making an effort to stay calm. Something Keene’s never had issues with until now.
“Utah,” I murmur, not meeting his eyes. My voice is practically non-existent and so rough, it sounds like someone shoved gravel down my throat and forced me to swallow it. “And Colorado too.”
The flash of anger on his face is quickly replaced by hurt, and it rips me apart from the inside out.
“You did the trip—our trip—without me?”
Nodding again, I whisper, “I did.”
And somehow, saying those two words out loud feels like more of a betrayal than leaving him standing there alone on the field or in the parking lot. Because I didn’t just betray him. I said fuck our friendship and our tradition and everything we built, putting my own needs before us.
Another wave of guilt hits me, threatening to pull me under the dark, murky surface.
God, I wouldn’t blame him if he hates me or never wants to speak to me again.
I get the feeling we’re pretty damn close to one, if not both, of those options too. Especially when he shakes his head and moves to brush past me to get to the door.
“Kee.”
His nickname is enough to have him pause, turning just enough to catch my gaze. And no matter how hard he’s trying, he can’t hide the hurt in his eyes. Being the one to put it there fills me with self-loathing, and I know what I have to say might only make it worse.
But I have to try.
“All I’m asking for is five minutes. Please.” My tongue darts out over my lips and I swallow down the shards of glass lodged in my throat. “I dare you to give me a chance to fix this. To make this right between us.”
Using the game is cheap. A cop out. But it’s my only hope.
“Pen.” He sighs, probably because of the dare, but I shake my head and grab his hand. It might be a mistake, touching him without his consent. Yet I do it anyway, because without his skin against mine, it feels like he’s already gone.
Like I’ve already lost the one person on this planet that I was made for.
“Hear me out. Please. I know I fucked up—”
“Fucked up? That’s what you wanna call it?” His scoff turns into a laugh of disbelief as he rips his hand from my hold. “You didn’t fuck up. You fucking destroyed everything we had. Years of friendship, out the window. And for what? Because you were embarrassed? Because you were afraid?”
“Of course I was afraid, Keene! If the world knew, that made it real. And if it was real…” I trail off, words evading me once again at the most inopportune time.
Keene doesn’t seem to have that issue though, laying into me with fire in his eyes.
“It was real whether the world knew it or not. You felt it as much as I did, the shift between us. And in the end, you’re still the one who chose to walk away. You’re the one who couldn’t handle it. Who was too afraid.”
“I know—”
“No, I don’t think you do, Pen,” he snaps, anguish written all over his features. “Because if you knew anything, you wouldn’t have walked away when I needed you most. When we needed each other.”
There it is again, the ripple of guilt when I hear him say those words.
I needed you.