Chapter 15
The locker room is empty except for Colten.
He’s already at our locker, yanking it open hard enough that it slams against the metal with a sharp bang. His movements are jerky, angry as he grabs his bag, his jacket, and anything within reach like he’s trying to outrun something that’s already inside him.
“Colten—”
He turns just enough for me to see his face, and everything in me just…drops.
He’s crying.
Not subtle, quiet, one-manly-tear crying. No, this is a full-on, wrecked kind of crying. There are tears streaming down his face, and his jaw is clenched like he’s trying to hold it together and failing anyway.
“Hey, what—what happened?” I rush toward him.
He doesn’t answer, just turns and tries to leave.
“Nope,” I say immediately, because I am not chasing him all over the Seattle Founders Club.
I catch him before he can get two steps, pressing him back against the lockers, using my height and my weight, everything I have to keep him there.
“Patrick, let me go,” he snaps, but it’s weak, broken up by the hitches in his breath.
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” I say, soft and gentle and hoping it’s enough.
He struggles for about half a second before just…stopping, his body sagging against the metal doors behind him. It’s like whatever was holding him up finally gave out.
Colten isn’t someone who sags or lets himself fall apart. He always holds everything together, always has plans and backup plans and backup backup plans. He might have his bad days, but nothing like this.
Right now, he looks…broken.
It scares me.
“Hey,” I say again, voice cracking a little, my eyes stinging. “Colten, what’s going on?”
“Are you crying?” he asks suddenly, blinking at me through his own tears like I’ve personally offended him.
“I—no—yes—” I swipe at my face. My hand comes back wet. “I don’t know. You’re crying.”
“That’s not how this works,” he says, incredulous, his breath hitching.
“I’m upset that you’re upset!” I shoot back, fully crying now. “That’s how friendship works!”
He huffs out a laugh. It’s wet and shaky and a little hysterical, but it’s there.
“You’re an idiot,” he says, rolling his eyes even as more tears run down his face.
“I know,” I say, sniffling. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong so we can both stop crying?”
He exhales, long and shaky, head tipping back against the lockers.
For a second, I think he’s not going to say anything, that we’re just going to keep crying until someone forcefully removes us from the club.
But then he speaks, voice low and hard, “You broke your promise.”
I blink, another tear escaping. “What?”
“Last night,” he says, voice rough. “You said—you said you wouldn’t get bored. That you’d stay. That you’d—” he cuts himself off, looking away. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” I say quickly. “I meant that.”
“You won’t need me anymore,” he mutters.
“What?”
“If you’re not going pro, then what is the point of any of this?” he asks, still not looking at me. “Of me being—” He cuts himself off, jaw tightening. “Of all of it.”
Oh.
It clicks so fast it almost knocks the air out of me.
“Colten,” I say, and then I do the only logical thing, which is to grab his face and kiss him—the scar on his eyebrow, his left cheek, then his other cheek, both salty and warm. I also kiss the tip of his nose, which is a bit dangerous with how much he’s crying, but I don’t care.
“Patrick, what are you doing?” he protests, trying to push me away but honestly not trying that hard.
“I’m fixing it,” I say, because obviously. “You’re being dumb.”
“I’m being—”
“Yes,” I interrupt, holding his face in my hands. “Because it doesn’t matter if I go pro or not. I’m still going to need my physical therapist.”
He blinks up at me with a questioning stare, the skin of his cheeks hot under my palms. I’m holding my world between my hands, so I make sure to hold him gently, carefully.
I continue, “But even if you decide to, I don’t know, become an archaeologist and go fight demons like that guy from that one cartoon—”
“Mackie Shan Adventures?” he asks automatically.
“Yes! That,” I say, nodding. “Even then, I’d still need you.”
A small laugh slips out of him despite everything. “Patrick…”
“I’m serious,” I say, softer now.
He studies me, eyes still red, still uncertain.
“That’s hard to believe,” he admits. “You dated half the campus but didn’t stay with any of them.
Now you’re not going pro, despite how hard you’ve worked for it for years.
” He swallows hard, looking away. “How am I supposed to think you won’t just…
move on from me too? Like, if the curse breaks or you just… get bored.”
I go quiet for a second and really think about it.
About the dates, about soccer, and about everything I’ve chased because I thought I was supposed to.
Then I look at him, at his stupid, perfect, splotchy, tear-streaked face, crooked nose, scar and all.
And I try, really try, to imagine a future without him in it.
But I can’t. It’s just…empty. Pointless.
“I won’t,” I say.
He frowns. “Patrick—”
“I can’t,” I correct. “I can let go of a lot of things, okay? But not you. There’s just—there’s nothing without you, Colten.”
His breath catches.
“And I think,” I add, because everything is so clear for once, “I think I’m in love with you.”
Silence.
Colten just stares at me, his eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Like I just told him I’m actually going to go pro in football instead.
“Is that—” he swallows. “Isn’t that just the spell?”
I freeze. Is it?
But the second I ask myself the question, I already know the answer: no.
Without all the shoulds and shouldn'ts cluttering everything up, it's suddenly obvious.
I've always felt this way. I've always thought Colten was the best. I've always wanted his attention, I’ve always wanted to make him proud, and I’ve always looked for him first in a crowd.
Any girl I tried to date never matched up to him, even though I kept trying, because that’s what I thought I should do.
It’s always been Colten.
I look down at him, at the tears shining in his eyes, and a laugh almost escapes me.
The stupid spell didn't make me fall in love with him.
I’m an idiot who’s been in love with him for years.
“It isn’t the spell,” I tell him, shaking my head. "I thought I was straight, which is pretty embarrassing in hindsight, because I can barely go five minutes without staring at you."
His eyes widen, cheeks turning bright red.
“And all those girls I dated? The ones who did one tiny annoying thing and suddenly I couldn’t stop noticing it?” I swallow, looking at him. “You do annoying things all the time.”
Colten blinks.
“You leave your socks on the floor. You make me watch boring documentaries where nothing explodes. You call me farmboy even though you know I grew up on a ranch—”
“I don’t make you watch those documentaries,” Colten interrupts, looking distinctly unimpressed. “You could leave at any time, Patrick.”
“Anyway,” I say loudly, because that is not the point, “when I actually think about what I want, not what I thought I was supposed to want…”
I trail off, overwhelmed by how obvious it suddenly seems. How did I not see it before?
“None of that stuff matters,” I say, softer now. “Not when it’s you.”
The words are simple, but I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.
"It's always been you. I just..." I laugh weakly. "I didn't think that was an option."
His breath catches, and a tear slips down his cheek.
I instantly panic. “Wait, no, don’t cry again—”
“I love you too,” he says, the words rushing out in one breath. “Even with all the annoying and stupid things that you do.”
“Really?” I ask, my heart beating so hard I’m half convinced it’s about to leap out of my chest. “No take-backs, right? You really love me?”
He rolls his eyes, even as more tears fall. “Yes, Patrick, I really love you, no take-backs.”
“Good,” I say, sighing in relief.
He huffs before grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me down into a kiss.
It’s not rushed, or desperate, or mean, or even hot.
It’s just…warm.
It’s soft, certain, and everything is settling into place all at once.
I relax into it, all the tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying just melting away.
When we pull back, he fixes me with a look.
“You are not allowed to get bored of me,” he says.
“I won’t,” I easily promise.
“If you do,” he continues, relentless, “you tell me. We’ll fix it, together, no matter what. You can’t just break up with me, I’m not allowing it.”
“Does that mean…” I start, heart now in my throat, “That we’re boyfriends?” My voice squeaks a little.
Colten presses his lips together, and I know he’s holding back a laugh. “Yes, we’re boyfriends.”
“Good,” I say, glad my boyfriend doesn’t laugh when my voice cracks. “I’ve always seen you in my future. I just didn’t realize that I could have more.”
He exhales, long and dramatic. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m your idiot,” I say, smiling.
He rolls his eyes before kissing me again.
This one is a little less soft and a little more intentional. There’s tongue involved, the taste of him sweeter than anything else I’ve had or will have.
Oh my goodness, I want to marry him.
My brain short-circuits for approximately three seconds before I remember how to function. Marriage later, for now, maybe we should find somewhere that isn’t a public space to make out.
I’m about to suggest going back to our hotel room, when I realize—
“Wait,” I say, pulling back further, looking Colten over with concern. “Why aren’t you glowing?”
He blinks. “What?”
“You’re not glowing,” I repeat, staring at him. “You were glowing, remember? It was, like, a whole thing—”
“You’re not glowing either,” he points out.
I gasp and look down at my arms.
Nothing.
“No,” I whisper. “Does that mean—does that mean I’m not attracted to you anymore?!”
“Patrick,” he says, deeply unimpressed, grabbing my face and kissing me again.
My panic disappears instantly, Colten’s unshakable confidence melting it with a single touch. I lean against him, promising myself that I’ll never let him go.
Well, maybe if he asks really nicely, but I will cry and beg first.
When he pulls back, he’s giving me one of his rare smiles. There might not be a magical glow around him anymore, but I swear I can still see a halo around his face.
“I think we broke the curse,” he says, looking up at me, pleased and happy.
I wrap my arms around his back, smiling back at him. “It was kind of a crappy superpower anyway.”
He laughs, the sound settling deep into the marrow of my bones, things finally feeling right.
My world is already in my arms, after all.