Chapter 34 Controlled Chaos Beau
Controlled Chaos
Beau
Bluebeard is staring at me with a depth of judgement only a cat is capable of. Maybe that’s why I like them so much. They’re fastidious groomers, cuddly on their own terms, but capable of putting you in your place with a single slow blink. No matter who you are.
He’s perched on the counter I’ve chased him off a hundred times before. But he doesn’t seem interested in learning my rules, so I ignore him, instead focusing on the coffee streaming from the pot into my cup.
This is what progress looks like, apparently.
An intense need for caffeine, a judgmental cat, and a ten-minute internal debate over whether I’m ready to send a text message.
I’ve never been one to shy away from speaking my mind.
But I don’t think I’ve ever cared about anyone else as much as this group of weirdos I’ve surrounded myself with at college.
Other than my sister, of course. But she’s one of the weirdos now, spending almost as much time fawning over Bluebeard at our house as she does looking after her own pets at her place.
My therapist would say something about being vulnerable and opening myself up to the possibility of emotional pain. I’m more inclined to think physical pain is a real possibility if I can even convince Luna’s best friend to meet me for coffee.
I finally force my fingers to type out the question.
Me: Can we talk? Just coffee. Please.
I’m not sure what else to say, so I go with a blunt approach. Typing bubbles show up almost immediately, appearing and disappearing several times. It makes my stomach churn.
Maisie: No
The flat denial doesn’t surprise me in the least. I know I need to try harder, but it’s difficult to find the right words in a single text.
Me: I need to make things right, and I could really use your help. I’ll do anything.
I can almost feel her internal debate in the long pause before she replies.
Maisie: Renounce your family inheritance? Streak at the end of our next hockey game? Submit an apology letter to be published in the next issue of the school paper?
A smile twitches my lips, and hope stirs. I have a feeling Maisie would give me a flat-out denial or leave me on read if it was a definite no.
Me: Anything.
Maisie: Huh. Fine. I’ll meet you for one coffee, but you’re buying, and I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.
I smile despite myself. It’s the first time in days that something like lightness breaks through the fog.
Me: Deal. I’ll buy you a muffin. Full carbs.
Maisie: And a sandwich. One of the chicken and brie ones. PS first sign of any shenanigans and I’m out of there. With my food.
Me: Of course.
Maisie: All Capps? One hour?
She must be on campus already. It’s a little tight, but I can make it.
I proceed to pour the coffee back in the pot, shouting out to let the rest of the guys know it’s fair game.
Bluebeard tilts his head up as I give his chin a solid scratch.
“You hear that? I’m going to get our girl back. ” Or at least make it right for her.
His motor rumbles, and he leans into my touch, giving me a gentle head butt as if he can understand what I’m saying and approves of the plan.
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting at a high-top in All Capps, sipping an unnaturally green drink that tastes like grass. Why did I let Jazz convince me to try matcha? I should start a stopwatch to see how long it’ll take for Maisie to eviscerate me for being such an idiot.
She marches straight for me, eyes narrowed with suspicion. She doesn’t smile, but she also doesn’t throw the apple cinnamon muffin at my head, so I count that as a win.
Sliding into the chair across from me, she tears off a piece of the crumbly muffin top, nibbling on it. “So. You’re alive.”
“Physically, yeah.”
“And emotionally?”
“Kind of a wreck.” It’s hard to admit that. But it’s getting easier. Trusting other people with these things.
Her expression softens. Just slightly. “Luna’s not doing great either.”
That hits me in the raw nerves I’ve been trying to keep hidden. I nod. “I figured.”
Maisie leans forward, elbows on the table. “What do you want, Beau?”
The question is blunt, but not cruel. I pause.
Because what I really want to say to her is Luna.
She’s who I want. But that’s not what this is about right now.
This is for making amends and doing the right thing regardless of the outcome.
And if it helps me win her back, well, that would be a bonus. The one I want but don’t deserve.
“I want to fix the event,” I say. “The outdoor skate. The livestream.” The mess I made with my life and Luna’s. “Even if the donor’s gone and everything’s screwed up, I want to make it happen.”
Maisie blinks.
I continue before I lose nerve. “I know I fucked this up. And I know she probably doesn’t want to see me. But the event was bigger than us. Bigger than all the drama. She believed in it, so I want to help give it back to her.”
Maisie studies me, eyes narrowed in thought. “And this isn’t about winning her back?”
I shake my head. “It’s about showing up when it matters. Something I should’ve done a hell of a lot earlier.”
She chews on that for a second. Then breaks off another piece of muffin and points it at me. “You’re lucky I believe in redemption arcs.”
It feels like I’ve been holding my breath all day when I release it.
“We have one week,” she says. “You ready to bring the chaos?”
A sort of resigned dread settles in the pit of my stomach. Chaos is the one thing I hate the most, but for Luna it’s worth it. “Born ready,” I say. “Also mildly terrified.”
“Good.” Maisie grins. “That means you’ll do it right.”
Maisie scrolls, muttering. “There’s an old outdoor rink behind the Glen Hill community center. It needs some major love, but it’s free if we clean it up. My cousin’s volleyball team used it for a charity fundraiser last fall. Only one person fell through a wall, so, promising.”
“Sounds like several lawsuits waiting to happen. That’s your bar?”
She grins. “That’s my floor. You know it’s not that tragic. All the pieces were already lined up. A few tweaks, and some phone calls will do it. The biggest issues will be locking down a new venue and keeping a massive secret from my bestie.”
She’s right. Everything was already set up. We just need to salvage the plan, get in contact with everyone involved and talk the community center into letting us use the space. I’m seldom willing to use my family name to put pressure on someone. But there’s nothing I won’t do to make this happen.
By the time we leave All Capps, Maisie’s already given Beth the details via voice memo and strong-armed a favor out of Coach. Apparently, when Maisie wants something, the universe just hands it over out of fear. I can’t say that I wouldn’t do the same.
We loop in Beth and Sin on a quick call. Beth’s already ten steps ahead. She’s drafted a new flyer and started a separate group chat to get in touch with the volunteer sign-up list. She adds JJ, who immediately responds.
JJ: Do we want a fog machine or is that too dramatic? Asking for me, not a friend.
Beth: You ARE the fog machine, JJ.
JJ: Facts.
Dev chimes in a few minutes later with his usual calm, reasonable energy. He’s even more chaos averse than I am.
Grant: I’ll split up the volunteer list with Cole. We can go through and contact everyone to make sure they’re still on board.
Cole: I can talk to the Walk Safe team as well. I’m sure I can get some of them on board to help at the event. After all, it’s for the kittens.
Me: And underprivileged youth in hockey.
JJ: AND kittens.
Dev: I’ll lift the tables. And help with the cleanup.
Maisie: We need to get new signage. We’ve got some gear donations, but a handful of donors backed out, so we’ll have to get back in their good graces. We need snacks. And if someone doesn’t call Cece for promo art, I’ll deem you all hopeless.
Me: Obviously I’ll loop my sister in. Why is she not already in this chat?
I send a side text to my sister.
Me: You free for a graphics sprint? It’s for a good cause. We need to rebrand the charity scrimmage. Men v Women. New location. Let’s call it rustic.
Cece: Sounds terrifying.
Me: It’s the old rink at Glen Hill. We’ll clean it up.
Cece: I don’t know Beau. Isn’t that place condemned?
Me: It’s for the cats, Cece. You can’t say no to helping the cats.
I include a picture of Bluebeard lying on his back, paws folded in the air as he exposes his fluffy belly. That should drive the point home.
Cece: That’s emotional blackmail.
Me: What else are brothers for?
Cece: Right. Of course I’m in. Just wanted to string you along a little first. Really make you beg for it.
Me: Speaking of emotional manipulation…
The energy builds fast. Faster than I expected. Once we get the ball rolling, everyone jumps on board with ideas, and the plan starts to fall into place.
And for once, instead of feeling like the pressure is closing in, I feel like I’m holding the line. I’m taking action and taking control of something that means something. A business deal with my father’s firm would never feel like this.
Maisie catches me zoning out and throws a sugar packet at my face.
“Hey. We’re not done yet. You still need to recruit the rest of the women’s team.
Don’t expect me to do all your work for you.
” I know she would if I dropped the ball on it, but I’m not going to. I’m ready to step up and beg if I must.
“Do I have to bribe them?”
“Probably.”
“With what?”
“Chocolate. Free tape. Debasing yourself in a trending dance on social media, maybe.”
“Chocolate and tape I can handle. Hard pass on the dance routine.”
“Then you better make the speech of your life.”
The women’s team has agreed to meet me in their locker room after practice.
Which feels like walking into enemy territory. Not because they’re mean. Well, okay, some of them are a little terrifying, but because I am very aware that Luna used to sit in here. That her friends are here. And that every inch of this room probably has an opinion about me.
Beth meets me at the door with a raised brow and a clipboard. “The great Beau Whitaker, paragon of punctuality, is late. Gasp,” she says, but she’s smirking.
“Sin pulled me aside to discuss the marketing plan,” I argue.
“You should have told her you had things to do.”
“Have you met Sin?”
Krista calls from inside, “He brought snacks, right?”
I hold up bright pink boxes of donuts from Jazz’s friend’s coffee cart like an offering. “I brought baked goods.”
“And?” Jenna asks.
“My deepest and humblest apologies.”
They all stare at me, and I’m starting to worry that this won’t work. Then I remember something my therapist said about saying the words out loud. Not assuming someone else will understand your meaning. “I’m sorry.”
A few of them laugh. Sab gives me a once-over like she’s deciding whether to allow it. I guess I get a temporary pass because they don’t drive me out of there brandishing sticks like pitchforks.
They settle back on the benches, and I take a breath. “I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,” I say, keeping my voice even. “But I’m not here to talk about Luna. I’m here to talk about the kids and cats. To fix the event that got torpedoed because of all this mess.”
There’s a shift in the air. Not warm, not hostile. Just expectant.
“We’ve got a new venue. Outdoor rink behind the Glen Hill Community Center.
It’s rough, but we’ve got access. Cole and Dev are handling cleanup and repairs along with the rest of the men’s team.
Maisie and Beth are running media. Cece’s handling graphics.
What we don’t have yet is the kind of hype this thing needs to actually make a difference.
Most people are assuming it’s been canceled. ”
Sab folds her arms. “You want us to be influencers?”
“I want you to be yourselves. You’re the reason people come to games. You’re the ones who make this campus feel like a team. People trust you. They’ll listen.”
Krista tilts her head. “What’s the plan exactly?”
“A livestream. Rebranded. More community focused. No corporate angle. Just a good, chaotic time for a good cause. All donations go to youth hockey programs and Paws For Thought. And we’ll be doing the big reveal and opening up preorders for the charity calendar.”
Beth perks up. “Can we do a choreographed dance?”
I sigh. Should have seen this one coming. “Did Maisie put you up to that?”
A beat of silence.
Then they explode with laughter.
“Listen, Whitaker. There is zero chance we’re going to take it easy on you. You hurt our friend, so you’re really going to need to prove yourself worthy. No dance, no Elles.”
My entire being shudders at the thought of going on camera like that, but there is nothing I won’t do to prove myself to these women, and more importantly to Luna. “Fine.”
Krista claps her hands. “Fucking fantastic! What’s the theme going to be?”
“There has to be a theme?” I ask.
“Of course.” Beth looks at me like I’m an idiot for not knowing this. She’s not wrong about the idiot part, unfortunately. “Let’s go for Enemies to Teammates. I’ve got the perfect song for it. Any chance you can convince Celeste to come on board to help choreograph it?”
Enthusiastic cheers ring out. Apparently, the idea is a winner, and it does feel right in spite of all my misgivings.
Jenna raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re forgetting the part where you have to get Luna to show up. In case you hadn’t noticed, she hasn’t exactly been present lately.”
Right. That. Everyone looks at me again.
“I have a plan for that,” I say, looking at Maisie.
Another beat.
“Is it a good plan?” Beth sounds doubtful about my abilities.
I hesitate.
Maisie answers for me. “Normally I’d be worried about a Whitaker plan too, but it’s all about the execution. And since I’ll be in charge of that piece, we’ll be good.”
If anyone can make the miracle happen, it will be Maisie.
But now I’ve got one more person to loop in.
In the before times, I would have had no trouble charming Celeste.
I have a feeling it won’t be so easy now, but I’m pretty sure she cares about her sister way more than she hates me. At least, I hope so.