34. Lolly

thirty-four

Lolly

I tuck my laces into my boots and sigh, the shitty dorm mattress squeaking as if it knows I should complain.

“You good?” Jay asks, his back turned to me, thumbs clacking across his controller.

“Define good,” I say as the weight of it all falls heavy on my shoulders.

“Do I need to beat the freckles off the guy?” He asks, spinning to face me, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

I can’t help but laugh. “No, I haven’t heard from him,” I admit. “I’m meeting his friend Natalie at the coffee shop to get my things and give her his key back.”

“What a fucking pansy,” Jay huffs, shaking his head. “Seriously, fuck that guy.”

I did, I think.

“You want me to come with you?” He asks, tone softer now.

“Nah, man. But thanks for offering.”

I pull in a deep breath and head out the door, my stomach twisting with anticipation.

I make it to the coffee shop before I realize I never turned my music on. The dread humming across my skin is too distracting any damn way.

I glance at myself in the rearview mirror, the guy looking back at me not the one I knew just a year ago. This version looks tired, lost—like I somehow forgot my worth when I let someone else’s behavior tip the scale.

The door to the shop is heavy in my grasp, a valid reflection of my current situation. My gaze darts around a sea of unfamiliar faces until it finally lands on a kind pair of dark eyes and a soft smile.

I make my way to the table and offer a forced smile in greeting before plopping down in the seat across from her.

“Hey,” she says gently, handing me a small sack. .

“Hey,” I echo, taking from her what’s left of what might have been. A gnawing pressure builds behind my eyes and my throat constricts. I grab a menu in a desperate attempt at distraction.

“Oliver?” Nat says, her voice soft and warm.

I look up at her, slowly lowering the menu, letting my guard down with it.

“Bailey’s Dad had a heart attack,” she says.

My stomach drops, my mouth opens but my words fail me.

“He’s going to be okay, but I thought you’d want to know,” she continues. “And Bailey, he’s, um,” she pauses, “he’s not doing very well, but he would kill me if he knew I was telling you this,” she says, eyes swimming with unshed tears.

I nod in understanding, swallowing thickly as I place his key on the table between us.

She looks at the key, then back up at me, a single tear trailing down her pale cheek.

“He loves you, you know?” She says, lips quivering.

I blink rapidly, fighting the burning deluge that’s threatening to come. I’m speechless, but I manage to nod again in understanding.

She reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers. “Bailey is my best friend, and I love him more than he’ll ever know,” she begins. “But I wish he understood that even though he’s terrified, some things in life are worth fighting for.”

“Me too,” I manage. Me fucking too.

“Maybe just don’t give up on him entirely,” she says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go and grabbing the key from the table. “I’m just not convinced y’alls story is finished,” she adds with a small smile.

The same key that opened the door to some of the best days of my life. A key that’s now closing a chapter I never knew could be written.

“I won’t,” I say, wholly unwilling to concede to this being our ending when our story has just begun.

Nat stands to leave but takes a few tentative steps toward me, looking up at me through brilliant eyes as she offers me a hand.

I take it, coming to a stand before her, head swimming, mind whirring.

Before I can say anything more, she’s pulling me into an embrace. Her small frame so steadying in this moment.

“You both deserve more sunsets,” she says before pulling away.

“Thank you,” I say, voice unsteady as I watch her walk away.

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