✧･Chapter 35 Well See
"Oh, thank God!"
August's voice rings out the second I step out of my car, loud enough to make me jump. My hand flies to my chest as I whip around, eyes wide, searching for him.
"Where the hell did you even come from?" I ask, still trying to steady my heartbeat.
He just laughs, completely unfazed, and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "Bench. I've been waiting. Did you bring it? Where is it?"
I roll my eyes, already knowing exactly what he means. "The beer? Yes, it's in the back."
That's all he needs and he practically lunges for my car, yanking open the back door and digging around like he hasn't had a drink in days.
"I know you are not this desperate right now," I call after him, laughing as he reappears with a bottle in hand. He twists the cap off in one quick motion and takes a long, unapologetic sip.
He exhales like it's the greatest relief of his life, then leans closer to me, lowering his voice. "Have you ever been around twenty-plus little demon children?"
I snort, shaking my head as I move to the trunk and pop it open. "They're kids, not demons."
I lean in, carefully lifting out one cake at a time and setting them on the roof of my car.
June had texted me a few hours ago - begging me - to pick up three cakes for some tee-ball party at the kids' baseball park.
Not even ten minutes after I agreed, August called with his own emergency; a case of beer.
"Please," he says, scoffing as he takes another drink. "Like you've spent hours with all of them at once."
"I have. A few times, actually." I straighten up with the last cake and glance over at him. "All they want to do is play and climb you. What's so bad about that?"
He groans dramatically, tipping his head back. "I'm not a jungle gym!"
I laugh, nudging the trunk closed with my hip. "Well, you're built like one."
He scoffs loud enough to turn heads, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
I grab the cakes and start toward the field, then pause, glancing back at him. "And you're not bringing the case of beer out there, by the way. If you want one, drink it here and toss the bottle. We don't need angry parents yelling about a drunk guy playing with their kids."
He rolls his eyes, offended. "Please. Have some faith in me. I'm not stupid."
I turn slowly, fixing him with a pointed look.
He gasps, clutching his chest. "I'm not!"
"Okay," I say, already walking away again, laughter slipping into my voice. "Whatever you say."
"Wait! At least let me help you."
August steps in before I can argue, reaching for the boxes. I expect him to take one or two, but he stacks all three cakes into his arms like he has something to prove. I blink at him, a little amused, and brush my hands off against my shirt.
"Thanks," I say, falling into step beside him as we head toward the field.
For a few seconds, it's quiet except for the distant noise of kids shouting and a whistle blowing somewhere in the distance. Then, like clockwork, he breaks it.
"So... Claire's already here."
I glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. We both know I know that, and we both know what he's actually trying to do.
"Just say what you really want to say," I mutter.
He exhales, slowing to a stop, and when I turn back to face him, there's a look on his face that immediately makes me regret giving him the opening.
"Claire? Of all people, Mae... really? Claire?"
Something about the way he says it twists wrong in my chest, sharp and defensive. My eyes narrow before I can stop myself.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I didn't mean it like that," he says quickly, shifting his weight, his grip tightening slightly on the cake boxes. "You know I love Claire. She's great. She's Claire. But you two are just completely different people."
I cross my arms loosely, waiting.
"You've always had this plan," he continues, softer now.
"Like, your whole life mapped out- marriage, kids, the house, the whole picture. You actually want that stuff. Claire..."
He hesitates, searching for the words. "Claire doesn't even stay in one place long enough to think about that. She hates being tied down. You know she does."
I let out a quiet sigh, shaking my head as I step past him and start walking again.
"I get that you're worried about me," I say, not looking at him, "but you really need to butt out. This isn't your business."
He follows a second later, his footsteps quick to match mine.
"When did you-" He cuts himself off, huffing under his breath before trying again. "When did you start liking women? Not that it matters, I don't care, it's just- I've known you forever, Mae. You were always about boys."
I'm quiet for a moment, the question settling heavier than I expect.
"I don't know."
He turns his head sharply toward me. "What do you mean you don't know?"
"Because I don't," I say, a little more firmly than I intend. I glance at him, then back ahead as the sounds of the park grow louder. "I don't even think I like women in general."
He looks genuinely confused now, like I've just handed him a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
"But you-"
"I know what you're going to say," I cut in gently, my voice trailing off as we round the corner, the field opening up in front of us.
The scene is chaos in the best way - kids running in every direction, laughter spilling into the air, someone attempting to organize a game that nobody is actually listening to.
Helena is sprinting after Faye, who's shrieking with laughter, while June stands a few feet away, completely unhelpful, recording the whole thing on her phone with a grin.
Lucia and a small group of kids are dancing to some overly cheerful song blasting from a speaker, their movements completely uncoordinated but enthusiastic.
And just behind them is Claire.
She's really trying to follow along with the kids, her arms a little off-beat, her expression caught somewhere between determination and absolute confusion.
There's a moment where she glances down at her own feet like they've betrayed her, then looks back up with a half-laugh, half-groan as one of the kids grabs her hand and spins her in the wrong direction.
It's ridiculous, but it's so completely her. And before I realize it, I'm smiling, soft and helpless and a little too fond for my own good. Something in my chest tightens, warm and familiar, like it's been there all along just waiting for me to notice it again.
"It's Claire," I say quietly.
August doesn't respond right away, so I keep going, my eyes still fixed on her.
"It's always been Claire," I admit, the words coming easier now that I've started. "It's not about women, or men, or any of that. I've tried to figure it out, tried to make it make sense, but it just doesn't."
I let out a small breath, watching as Claire nearly trips over her own feet before laughing it off, completely unbothered.
"She's the only person who's ever made me feel like this. Like everything's louder and brighter and full. She drives me insane sometimes - like, genuinely makes me want to scream - and then five minutes later she'll say something so stupid that I forget why I was even mad in the first place."
I glance at August briefly, then back at her, softer now.
"She doesn't fit into any version of a life I thought I wanted. She's unpredictable and messy and refuses to follow any kind of plan and somehow, that doesn't scare me the way it should. If anything, it makes me want to stay."
My smile lingers, smaller but steadier.
"It's the way she looks at people like they matter. The way she shows up without making a big deal about it. The way she can make a room feel lighter just by being in it, even when she has no idea what she's doing," I add, a quiet laugh slipping out.
I pause, letting the feeling settle in my chest before finishing, softer than before.
"Nobody else has ever made me feel like I could be completely myself and still be wanted. But she does. She always has."
Another beat passes, and I finally tear my gaze away from Claire, looking back at him.
"So yeah," I say, a small shrug following. "It's her. Just her."
We approach a fold out table and August slowly tries to lean down to set the cake on the table and I laugh before taking a box at a time and placing them down, saving him from disaster.
"I get it." He finally says, fixing his shirt, looking at me.
"You do? You're not going to ask a million questions?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"No, I know you, and I know her. Honestly? You guys do make the perfect couple and it's disgusting, really. I already have to deal with Helena being with my baby sister."
"They're married and they have two kids. Get over it already." I say, shoving him lightly and he rolls his eyes.
"But really, as long as you're happy, that's all that matters. You know I'm always here for you, no matter what." He then says softly, his eyes softening and I smile lightly, nodding my head.
"I know, thank you." I say softly, opening the first box of cake carefully.
"CAKE?!"
I close my eyes briefly. It's like a switch flips. Every kid within ten feet turns at once, and then they're running, voices overlapping, hands already reaching before I've even opened the second box.
"Oh my god, there's more than one!"
"Which one's chocolate?!"
"Don't touch it yet!"
"Mae brought cake!"
"Hey! Hey!" I laugh despite myself, trying to block at least a few grabby hands as I open the rest. "Give me a second, you little monsters, we need plates first!"
They ignore me completely.
August, traitor that he is, steps back like he wants no part in it. "Yeah, good luck with that," he mutters, and I shoot him a look that promises violence later.
I'm halfway through opening the last box when something pulls my attention up with no reason, no warning, just instinct.
And then I see her.