Chapter 41 Maverick
maverick
I rub the ache in my chest, hoping to soothe some of the pain.
I love you. I’ve always seen you for exactly who you are from the very beginning. And I love you.
Every cell in my body lit up at her words and then screamed at me to respond. To wrap my arms around her and tell her that yes, I love you too, I’ve been falling in love with you from the very beginning.
But as soon as the thoughts came, I forced them away. I didn’t get to tell her how I feel, and it will likely eat me alive for the rest of my life.
“Hey, kid.”
I sit in the chair across from William, feeling the weight I’ve been carrying pull me down.
“Uh-oh. What happened?” he asks.
I hang my head between my shoulders, unable to look at him. A combination of not wanting to relive yesterday, and not wanting this man to know that I failed stops me from opening up.
“Nothing.” I drop my elbows to my knees and tuck the chain that's come loose back into my shirt. “I’m just not feeling all that well tonight. Do you mind if we take a rain check on dinner and just read?”
“Sure, kid.”
I nod my head at nothing in particular, but the backs of my eyes burn because just being here reminds me so much of her.
“Where’s Rosie?” I sniff, looking around the room.
“She still doesn’t have her full strength back, and you know she hates being seen with that walker.”
I absently wonder if Chloe knows what’s been going on with Rosie.
Despite their age gap, the two really are the best of friends, and because I know Chloe, I know that if she knew what was going on, she would be spending all her time here making sure Rosie isn’t alone.
My hand itches to text her, but just as quickly as the thought comes, I fight it.
I sit back, looking over at William who I’ve just now noticed is wearing a brown sweater—cashmere from the looks of it—with a crisp white shirt underneath and his gold chain resting on the outside.
My gut sinks because I just asked him to stay in and read while not noticing that he was ready to hit the town. I’m such a fucking asshole.
“Hey, Willie, we can still go get dinner.” I nod toward the door but he’s already waving me off.
“Nah. Not tonight. I’m free all week.” He winks at me, and I know it’s supposed to make me feel better but it somehow makes me feel worse.
I nod again, sitting forward and pointing at his book. “Should we read?”
He taps the book against his open palm. “Only if you're up for it. You don’t look like you feel very good.”
My chest feels hollow in a way that makes it hard to breathe, and every step I take feels like I’m dragging my body through the mud, so to say I don’t feel very good would be an understatement. I scrub my hands over my face harder than necessary, before dragging them over my head.
“Yeah, I must have caught something.” It’s a lie, but I’m barely holding myself together. “Maybe you're right. Maybe next week will be better.” I stand from the chair, keeping my eyes low.
I'm startled when a warm soft hand finds mine and I look down at William.
“Whatever it is, Maverick, it’ll be okay.”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip, and I don’t know if it’s because it’s the first time he’s used my name, or the words he says, knowing that he sees through my bullshit, but when he pats the top of my hand with his, I squeeze my eyes shut, locking the tears safely away.
I sniff, patting his shoulder with my free hand, and he lets me go.
There’s a soft knock on my door, but I don’t get up.
“Mav, it’s me.” Silas sounds from the other side.
I close my eyes as disappointment settles in my gut. I knew it wouldn’t be Chloe on the other side, but it didn’t stop me from craving it.
When I don’t answer, Silas hesitantly cracks open the door.
His eyes flick from my empty bed to where I’m lying on my futon and back.
He steps inside, leaning against my dresser with one hand tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants, the other holding his coffee. Everyone knows Silas is quiet, but only a few know how observant he is.
I haven’t slept in my bed the last three nights. It still smells like her. The smart thing to do would be to wash the sheets and rid her existence from this room and hope that the place she’s carved out in my chest follows suit.
But I can’t. Maybe I’m a masochist. Maybe I deserve it. But her lingering scent of lavender will stay here, consuming my every waking and unconscious thought.
I can’t walk past the mirror in my bathroom without seeing the reflection of her face grinning down at me as she shaved my head.
I can’t keep my curtains open past five p.m. without every single star in the sky reminding me of her light.
Fuck, I couldn’t even look at my best friend when he came home last night, because I don’t know if he’s been around her or heard anything.
“I told Coach you were sick.”
I blink up at the ceiling, clutching the pillow tighter to my chest while taking measured breaths.
“So, do me a favor when you get back to practice, make sure you tell him you were on your deathbed so you don’t make a liar out of me.”
It takes me a beat longer than I’d like to admit to realize that I’ve been so wrapped up in this new feeling of Chloe’s love, and how she’s always seen the real me, that for a minute there, I forgot that I have two friends who also know me.
“Look, you know I’m not going to make you talk about it, but I just wanted to be here in case you wanted to.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I surprise myself by how nonchalant I was able to make that sound.
“You know, last semester when Noah was going through it with Sav, we were on his balcony one morning, and he said he just wanted to flip shit and yell. I told him he should try it, because I’ve seen you do it a time or two, and maybe it would help.”
I sit up, propping my elbows on my knees, but keep my eyes trained on the floor.
“I say that because this hiding out in your room, sleeping for three days straight, and skipping practice shit isn’t you.”
“I’ve not been sleeping,” I say like it justifies anything.
I hear him take a sip of his coffee, and any other time, I would put on my mask of indifference, smile, and reassure him that all is well, but even pretending feels too hard right now.
“It’s Bingo night, right?”
I flinch, almost looking up at him because, of course, Silas would be the one to notice that not only, yes, it’s Bingo night, but that I would want to be there.
“Maybe we should go,” he continues. “I’ve been wanting to meet your new best friend. Scope out what my competition looks like.”
I huff something of a laugh but still can’t bring myself to smile.
“I can’t go,” I finally say. The thought of seeing Chloe there kills me, and even if she wasn’t there, that would hurt just as bad, and I’ll just bring everyone else down.
“I’ll be good, buddy,” I say partly to reassure him, and partly because if he keeps going, I can’t guarantee I won’t lose it on him.
“I promise. Tell Coach I’ll be back next week. ”
I feel his eyes on me rather than see them, and after a moment, he leaves with a quiet click of the door.
I blow out a breath, push myself to stand, and everything aches as I move to the side of my bed.
Of all the things I’ve been avoiding the last few days, practice, responsibilities, friends…
the one thing I haven’t even looked at was my phone.
I open the nightstand, pull out the device, and turn it on.
When I first turned it off, it was rooted in the fact that I didn’t want to be bothered by anyone.
By the end of that first night, it became clear that the reason I kept it off was because I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out if she called.
I’ve been locked in my room for days for fear of getting on my hands and knees and crawling back to her, begging for her forgiveness. But I know that’s not what she needs.
When the screen finally turns on, I swipe past the calendar reminder for Bingo tonight and fall onto my bed. Instantly, the barley there traces of lavender finds me, and it’s a struggle to not let it consume me.
Sitting up, I swallow back the mixed emotions I feel when there are about twenty unanswered messages and not one of them from her. I’m about to turn it off again when I stop and catch the subscription number, and the three missed messages telling me her horoscope of the day.
Today is about attending to small things, Cancer. Clutter, noise, or other people's emotions might feel extra loud right now. Give yourself permission to rest. It’s not giving up. It’s called recharging.
Little crab, your heart knows the truth even if your head hasn’t caught up yet. Let the stars remind you that your light doesn’t disappear just because it’s cloudy. With a nap, some snacks, and a look deeper inside, you will feel the light again.
Cancer, don’t let the anxiety win today. If all is not well, then all is not over.
My knuckles turn white around the phone. “God damn it!” I scream, launching it across the room and watch the glass shatter against the wall.