Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SI X
THEN
I t’s the first Friday of June and the humidity is oppressive. If it weren’t for the delicate breeze that caresses our sweat-slicked skin as it rolls in off the ocean, I don’t think I’d have it in me to be here at the Senior Bondfire, even if it’s to celebrate Jason’s graduating class.
Truthfully, it’s not just the thick air that’s got me bothered. The buzzing of a brand-new anxiety has been rattling through me for weeks knowing all of this is coming: Jason has officially finished high school, and he’ll be off to his first year as an Aggie at Texas A&M. I’ll barely have a chance to prepare myself to be trapped in Saddlebrook Falls for another two years while my handsome and successful football-playing boyfriend is moving on with his life somewhere new and exciting. Somewhere that he gets an opportunity to start being whoever he wants to be and doesn’t have to continue living up to the expectations set for the mayor’s son or god’s gift to our stifling town.
Needless to say, as happy as I am for him—truly, he deserves that scholarship after how hard he’s worked his whole life—I’m dreading the fact that he has to leave me to chase those dreams. I’ve spent most of the last two years molded in the space at Jay’s side. We’ve not only grown in our love for each other, but in the easy friendship that continues to bloom so big and bright between us.
“You’re in your head again,” Jason murmurs as we trudge hand in hand through the soft sand toward his classmates, who are gathered near the shore. He knows enough about my headspace these days, and has been paying extra close attention to my emotions. And it’s nice . . . even though it makes me feel like more of a sour puss raining sad puddles down instead of the happy and supportive girlfriend I’m trying like hell to be.
“I know,” I say as I look up at him, watching a lock of his golden hair bounce on a long stride. “I’m sorry.”
He squeezes my hand. “Hey, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for. But we still have two months before I leave,” he reminds me, again , and lets out a sigh. “Tonight is nothing more than a silly senior tradition. So let’s try to have a little fun, okay?”
My temples pulse at his careful tone, a dose of shame radiating out into the space between us. I might be able to slip on a mask for most things in my life, but when it comes to Jason and my fear of losing everything we’ve built . . . It’s a struggle.
It’s not lost on me that I promised myself I’d never let a boy in so deep that I couldn’t imagine a future without him—but that rule was based on my desire to leave this place and my refusal to let anyone change my mind. It’s ironic, really, that the boy I fell for is the one now leaving me behind.
Up ahead, someone blows an air horn, and I’m lassoed back into the moment. I force a smile on my face and nod. “Okay,” I agree.
I’m able to shake myself out of my anxious haze as soon as we reach the rest of the group. Erin throws her arms around me when she sees me, and I say my hellos to Brad and Ethan. Jason pours beer into a plastic cup from a keg sitting in a kiddie pool of ice, and I dive into conversation with Matt and Haley who show up only minutes after we do.
I’m not the only non-senior here—Regan came with her older brother, Ian, a senior hockey player. Lizzie is here with her sister, Amanda, who’s been president of the yearbook club for the last two years, and David is even here—though I’m not sure who he came with.
It’s a large crowd of Mustangs, expanding beyond the social circles of the football team and cheerleaders, and it’s a subtle reminder that life beyond our treasured football program does exist. A reminder that I’ll find a new place within the layers of it all next year without Jason, that I’ll be okay.
At least I’ll still have cheer.
About an hour after we arrive, Wells shows up with a brunette on his arm that I’ve never seen before. She’s wearing the red T-shirt that all the seniors have on to celebrate their class, but it’s too big for her. I have a feeling she’s not a senior, which means it must be Wells’s shirt . . . and I’m not sure why but it bothers me that she’s wearing it. That he’d let her parade around in something of his like that.
Not that it’s my place to have an opinion where Wells Bennett is concerned. Frankly, he can do whatever— whomever —he wants. It’s just . . . tonight is supposed to be about the seniors, about the end of their high school era. Even I feel slightly out of place here, but as Jason’s girlfriend of almost two years, I’m intertwined with his life enough to warrant the right.
I guess I just wish Wells were more focused on celebrating this with his best friend and the rest of the team and less on using the event to get into a girl’s pants. I have half a mind to scold him for it, to slip into our old routine of tossing light insults disguised as friendly banter, but I’m not sure I could get away with it anymore. Things have continued to feel splintered between Wells and me since last summer, and he’s made it pretty clear that he doesn’t care much about anything I might have to say.
I watch as he carelessly drops two folded beach chairs in the sand just outside the circle of bodies, reaching to greet some of the other football players with their usual handshakes and laughter. His date stands dutifully by his side, though he doesn’t do much to include her or introduce her.
“You wanna play a little catch, babe?” Jason murmurs in my ear, wrapping his arms around me from behind. Goosebumps light up a trail down my spine, and my face splits into a warm grin.
“Sure,” I say, playfully ducking out of his arms and running toward the water. I hear the thump of his feet in the sand behind me as he chases me, laughing. I pivot to the left to avoid him catching me and almost run right into Brad and Erin. “Shit,” I squeal. “Sorry!”
It’s enough of a distraction to pull me away from thoughts of Wells. It’s not like there’s really anything to think about, anyway—I’m just a bit hurt that we couldn’t keep up with the friendship I thought we’d built last year. I miss the easy conversation, miss him teaching me things around the ranch. I don’t go there at all anymore—at least not without Jason, and even that feels different.
Jason backtracks to the group to pull a football out of his bag. Even through the distance, I can see how his eyes glimmer with mischief as he also pulls a bottle of whiskey from it. A handful of people catch the movement and keep focus on him, like they know he’s good for a good time as long as they stay in his orbit. He turns to walk back to me, oblivious to the attention he’s getting from others. “Every time someone drops the ball, they have to take a shot,” he declares.
Dread curls tight in my stomach as I think about the last time I drank whiskey. On instinct, my gaze jumps to the crowd of onlookers and lands on Wells. He’s already watching me, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. It’s unnerving the way he can still do that, despite everything. I turn back to Jason. “That sounds like a quick way to get me drunk.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll go easy on you. Promise.”
“How are we supposed to get home?” I ask.
“Ethan is going to drive us. I’ll come back and get my car tomorrow.”
I was standing right next to him when we got here, and I definitely didn’t hear this come up in conversation with Ethan, which means . . . “You planned this,” I say. It’s not a question.
He shrugs. “Not a big deal.”
It’s not the first time he’s pre-arranged a ride home for us from a party, so I’m not exactly surprised. But this is technically a school function. I mean, most of the people here already graduated last week and there aren’t any school chaperones . . . but still, even if the school is mostly hands-off, the teachers are advocates of the Senior Bondfire and do what they can to support it happening.
Considering I still have two years left at Saddlebrook Falls High, the last thing I want is to get caught drinking. But I’m also distinctly aware that my time with Jason is fleeting, and I want to make the most of it before he leaves for school.
This is okay, right?
“Okay.” I nod. “But you have to go easy on me.”
He chuckles. “I already promised. Here—” He hands me the ball.
Turns out, Jason goes very easy on me. He also manages to drop the ball seven times in the first twenty minutes of playing, and the tension in my stomach grows taut as he takes long pulls from the bottle. I’ve only dropped it twice, and I’m not the one who plays this game seriously.
“I thought you were trying to go pro,” I tease from where I stand.
His smile is wicked. “I’m a quarterback, babe,” he says. “I’m not a receiver. Plus, you don’t have the best aim.”
I scoff, hiding my irritation behind a smile. I don’t love it when Jason drinks like this, but who am I to tell him to cool it on a night that’s supposed to be a celebration? He said Ethan would take us home, and Ethan’s been nursing a bottle of water the whole time we’ve been here, so I decide I can let loose, too.
I make less of an effort to move to catch the ball, and each time it slips through my fingers and into the sand I saunter over to Jason to take shots of his whiskey. It doesn’t take long before the buzz sets in, and as the sun begins to set and the sky ignites in a kaleidoscope of pinks and oranges and blues, I realize I’ve forgotten why I was worried about anything at all.
“Hey, Layla!” someone shouts from farther up the beach. I turn and find Wells standing from his chair. He claps his hands and holds them out like he wants me to throw him the ball. I raise it up in question, and he nods, grinning.
The sight of his lips pulled high cracks something open in my chest. I feel myself lean toward him, like a flower eager for the sun. My own smile grows wide as I wind my arm back and send the ball flying.
My aim isn’t great, but Wells carefully moves behind the chair his date sits in and jumps to catch it. “Hell yeah, nice job!” he shouts down to me, and my body winds tight from his praise. “Ready, Jay?”
Jason laughs. “Lay it on me, Bennett!”
Wells hurls the ball back down toward the shoreline, forcing Jason to run for it. And he does—he runs right into the water, feet splashing as he reaches to catch the ball. His hands wrap around it and pull it from the air, but he loses his balance from the momentum and falls to his knees. When he holds the ball up triumphantly, his smile is beaming.
Wells laughs from behind me and I feel the spark of the moment like a match struck. It may be fleeting, only existing here on this beach, but it was only a year ago when Wells was just as much my friend as Jason’s. So I hold on to it, desperate to stretch it out, and realize it’s not just Jason I’m going to miss when they inevitably leave for college.
Later, when the sunlight has disappeared and the sky is black, we sit around the bonfire under a blanket of stars. Jason and Wells are both drunk and happy, and Jason looks at Wells with so much love it brings me to tears.
“Promise me, Wells,” Jason says suddenly, eyes fixed on his best friend.
Wells gives him a lopsided smile. “Promise you what?”
Jason’s smile slips. “That we’ll be best friends forever.”
Wells’s eyes soften but his smile doesn’t waver. “ Brothers , Jay. Forever.”
Jason nods, and then he looks at me.
And I think . . . I think we might just be okay after all. As long as we hold on to this love, we can make it through anything.