Chapter Thirteen #3
I can feel the emotion building desperately inside of me. “Everett Young, get out. Don’t come near me again. Have you ever seen me so serious? Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
As the front door slams shut behind his retreating back, I finally let the sobs out.
I haven’t seen Everett for a handful of days now. It’s an intentional choice; I avoid anywhere that I know he’ll be, and both of my games this week were away games, which helped keep him at bay.
I do sympathize with Kelly and Henry; they’re working around the two of us, left in the dark as to why we’re not speaking—but they don’t complain. They’ve met me for lunch or to hang out at my apartment a couple of times, and they don’t pry.
When Mom and Dad came for lunch yesterday, I told them that Everett is busy studying for midterms, just as I am. Which I’m sure he is, so it’s not totally a lie.
The only place in which it’s not possible to avoid him assuredly is on campus, and today I finally see him. It’s Friday, and I’m heading to my car, about ready to leave for the day.
As I’m crossing the main square, I see Everett in his blue jeans. He’s wearing one of his plain black crewnecks and a baseball cap pulled down low, but unfortunately, it’s not hiding what he’s attempting to hide.
His right eye is black and slightly swollen.
I know if I approach him and ask, he’ll tell me some bullshit story about fighting with a teammate. But after so many times, that excuse has lost its effect. Plus, I’ve never met a single teammate of his who doesn’t like him.
What is happening behind the scenes of Everett’s picture-perfect life? Who is he fighting with? I watch him, hunched over as if to make his huge self smaller, walking toward his last lecture of the day.
I want to run after him. I want to ice his face and push him around until he tells me the truth. Then, I want to give him a black eye of my own, only to get on my knees in front of him and apologize.
It’s fucked up—so twisted now. I can’t find a path to take that will lead me back to him; a way to fix this and salvage the years we’ve spent together like brothers.
It seems, in the end, I cannot stop this life from separating me from what lies closest to my heart.
So instead, I stick to stalking him like a damn creep and pull out my phone to shoot him a message.
Skylar
what happened to your eye?
I watch him pull his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, eyes shifting from weary to surprised, then back to weary as he reads the message. Then:
Everett
I’m fine.
Skylar
bullshit
Everett
I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?
I scoff, following him from a distance as I type back:
Skylar
you’re deflecting
Everett gives up on texting, my phone vibrating in my hand as he places his to his ear, eyes shooting around anxiously.
That’s right, dumbass. I’m watching.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice as nonchalant as I can manage.
“Who told you?”
I sigh. “Could you just tell me what happened?”
He looks tense, like he has to watch his back at all times or face a major consequence. “Nothing happened. It was a misunderstanding.”
“Let me guess: a teammate?” I sass, and he says nothing. I knew it. Liar. “That’s what I thought. What are you hiding from me, Evie?”
He takes a shaky breath; I watch his fingers flex at his side until he disappears into the lecture building, and I lose him.
“I didn’t think you were interested in what happened to me anymore.” Everett sounds hurt and dejected, and somehow I feel like the villain here.
“You aren’t being fair,” I whisper, and it sounds close to a soft cry.
“I know. I know I’m not. You’re right to want to stay away from me; my life is too messy, Skylar. I’m sorry.”
The line goes dead.
Too messy? What does that even mean?! He’s being too cryptic, too dramatic.
I make my way toward the student parking lot with his words on a loop in my mind. I wish I understood him, but he’s not wrong either. He is unfair, and I should step away.
It’s safest for me. For my heart.
“Sky!” A loud, deep voice echoes around me.
Jacob.
I turn to face him, watching his eyes drag over my body as he approaches. He’s dressed casually in his black jeans and his white shirt, his brown hair messy in an endearing way. Jacob is incredibly handsome in the way most jock types are.
“Hey,” I greet him.
“Are you free tomorrow?” he asks. At my nod, he adds, “Can I take you out? I know Seabird is your workplace, but the guys and I are going out. Can I buy you a few drinks?”
I take in the sight of him, his beauty and how seemingly kind he is. He is a good candidate for a boyfriend.
Typically, I brush people off—boy or girl. No one is good enough, not normally. But Jacob is smart and sweet; he’s popular and has a career ahead of him.
Plus, I felt the outline of his dick when we danced that one night, and he’s packing. Like, I think he’s as big as Evie is. Maybe I need this; maybe I need him to distract me from how fucked my situation with Everett has become.
And if I fall in love with him, I can get over Everett, and we can go back to being friends.
“Sure,” I reply. “I’ll meet you there. Text me.”
Jacob grins, satisfied and obviously excited. “Cool. See you then, pretty boy.”
This could be good. This could work out. Or it could all burn down around me, just as everything else has. Only time will tell, I guess.
I hope that whatever is happening with Everett isn’t a big deal, that whatever is leaving marks on his skin isn’t permanent. If it is, I don’t know what I’ll do.
I don’t know how I’d help, or if he’d let me.
And I don’t know who I’d become if I were ever placed in front of the unlucky motherfucker that keeps putting their hands on my best friend.