Five things, p.23
Five Things, page 23
“Can I help you?” she asks, her perfectly groomed brow raised.
I cough, brushing the stray hair that’s fallen from my ponytail behind my ears. “Yes . . .” She continues to watch me, her expression growing more impatient the longer I stand there, saying nothing. This is the right decision, Beatrice. It’s time to walk away. “I need to drop out.”
Maverick
“You’re a real piece of shit at times, Maverick Brady.” Nash barrels through the apartment, stopping in front of me. His hands are curled into fists at his sides, a scowl prominent on his usually smiling face.
“Bro, what are—” He cuts me off with a scathing look, and I shrink into myself. Nash doesn’t get mad, so now I know I’ve really fucked up.
“You couldn’t say a single word to her? After your sister made her feel like shit, not one word? Jesus, Maverick. I thought you two were finally figuring this shit out but then Willow comes around and you just forget to stick up for your girl?”
“She should feel like shit, after what she’s do—”
“You, shut the fuck up,” he directs at Willow, who shrinks under his scrutiny. “I will deal with you later.”
“Nash,” I start, pushing off the cushion and leaning forward until my arms drop between my spread legs.
For the last few hours, Willow and I have gone back and forth over this issue, each time her flinging back more and more anger. We haven’t reached a compromise, and I don’t know if we’re going to, but the way Nash is staring at me, I’m thinking staying here may have been a waste of my time anyway.
“What’s going on?”
“Well, after spending the morning trying to cheer your girl up, who, by the way, still looks beautiful after crying her fucking eyes out.” A grumble leaves my throat at his words, but he only shakes his head at me in disgust. “Don’t you dare start. We’re friends, nothing more. Anyway, after she kicked me out of her room, looking like a lost little puppy, I followed her like a good friend does. Like a good fucking boyfriend should have. And what a doozy I found.”
“What?” My stomach bottoms out, my hands curling into fists.
“Bea dropped out,” he says so matter-of-factly you’d think he was telling me the weather, but his eyes show his true emotions. He’s angry . . . at me. Because this is my fault somehow. “So you need to go and find her and fucking fix this, Maverick. Because if you don’t, I think you may have lost her for good this time.”
Willow follows me off the couch, grabbing my arm as I move toward the door. “Maverick, really think this through.”
“I don’t need to, Willow,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you, and I love that you want to protect me. But I’m not risking anything when it comes to her because she is everything. I know you don’t get it, that’s become obvious. And I’m not asking you to, all I ask is that you respect the fact that she is my choice, and it doesn’t matter what your opinion is. I’m going to choose her, every single time. Just like I should have so many years ago. She’s it for me, Willow.”
My sister stares at me wide-eyed, her mouth open, but no words come out. Nash nods at me when I flick my gaze to him. He’ll talk to Willow for me and try to work his magic on her, or at least calm her down while I go find Beatrice.
It’s time to lay all our cards on the table, and I just hope I have enough to get her to stick.
My knuckles rap against the door when I reach her dorm, giving her a minute’s notice before I push my key into the lock and twist. The door releases, pushing open as I step inside but she’s nowhere to be seen.
The space is devoid of life when I move through it, and her bedroom is empty when I push the door open. But all her stuff is still where she left it. Work booklets are piled on her desk, her charger plugged into the wall, her clothes still line the closets and fill the drawers, her shoes strewn messily at the bottom of the bed.
Where the hell are you, Bumblebee?
Nash finds me a while later, my head in my hands as I slouch at the end of her bed. The sheets are wrinkled beneath me, the note she left crumpled in my hand. Nash peels it from me, his eyes softening as he reads her words.
Maverick,
I know you’re probably frustrated right now and confused and a little angry. But promise me you won’t do anything stupid, like follow me. You need to be here, right where you are, thriving. You still have games to play this season and I expect you to win them all, even if I won’t be there to cheer you on. You deserve everything the world has to offer you, and I am so excited to see how you succeed, but I can’t be at your side when you do.
We’re not good for each other, no matter how much we wish we were. There’s so much standing in our way, so many wrong turns that lead us in opposite directions. I know I’ve said it before, but I have to say it again. I am sorry for everything. I ruined us, long before we ever had a chance to really start, and I will regret that every day for the rest of my life.
But know this, Maverick Brady, you are my favorite bad decision. I can never thank you enough for letting me live again. And if I had the chance to redo these last few months again, I wouldn’t change them, not when it means I got to experience what we can be in the next lifetime . . . but I have to let you go in this one. We’re not meant for one another, not permanently. You will always be a part of me, just as I hope I will always be a part of you. Maybe one day you’ll understand that this decision is the right one and I hope when you do, you’ll forgive me for leaving you this way.
You need to thrive, and with me you’ll only drown.
We’ll find each other again, when our paths collide in the next life. Promise me that lifetime, Maverick, and maybe then we’ll get our chance at forever, but for now, this is goodbye.
Yours forever,
Your Bumblebee x
PS Nash, since I know you’re reading this . . . look after him. I’ll be forever grateful for your friendship in the time I needed it the most, but Maverick needs you more now . . . Baby Bea x
“Fuck, man,” Nash breathes, dropping down beside me. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the page, his hands tightening as he rereads her words over and over again.
“You were right.” He looks at me then, his brow raised. “I lost her for good.”
“You’re not going to go after her?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as he watches me curiously. I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair.
“I walked away from her once, without looking back, and she gave me that,” I tell him, blowing out a breath. “Now it’s my turn. If this is what she thinks she needs, I owe it to her to give her that.”
“When did you ever listen to what someone else is telling you is the best choice?”
“When Beatrice Fletcher is the one telling me what to do,” I say, shoving off the bed and grabbing the note from his hand. I stuff it in my pocket, grabbing my phone from where I launched it at the wall when I first found the sheet of paper laying on her pillow next to a pile of hoodies she’d collected from my room over the last few weeks. “She deserves to find her peace, and if that’s not me, then how can I dream of ever taking that away from her?”
“You really do love her, don’t you?” he asks, a mixture of awe and sadness in his voice.
Grabbing the bag with my tops and sweaters off the bed, I leave her dorm, Nash’s question going unanswered. A tear rolls over my cheek, the first I’ve cried in a long time, as the door closes behind me, my broken heart left in her room.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Beatrice
“Is that my girl?” Mom shouts when I step through the front door. Her eyes glow with excitement when she runs into the hall, a bright smile at her lips as she takes me in. She throws her arms around me, squeezing me in a death grip as she whispers in my ear, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Momma.” She pulls away at the crack in my voice, her hands on my shoulders as she stares at me. My lip wobbles, my breath shallowing under her watchful eyes.
“Oh, my baby, what happened?” she asks, following the stray tear that spills over my lashes. Within seconds, more follow. My body is racked with sobs as she drags me into the living room, guiding us to the couch.
She pushes me down gently, her arms wrapping around me as she pulls me into her comforting hold.
“I wasn’t ready.” I choke, swiping away the tears with the back of my hand, but it’s futile as more follow. “It was all way too soon.”
“Beatrice, I’m sorry,” she says, brushing her hand over my ponytail and smoothing the strands down my back. She holds me for what feels like hours, taking all my tears and emotions as they wash over me like a hurricane.
She whispers words of comfort, but they do nothing to tamper the swirl of sorrow that continues to build inside of me. My body is cold. My mind detached as I cry for the boy I left behind, again.
Time passes slowly, my sobs lessening until I’m sure I have no more tears left to cry. Mom swipes her thumbs under my eyes, wiping away the last few stray tears. Her eyes are soft, her lips set in a sad frown as she watches me.
A fresh wave of guilt trickles over me. This isn’t the first time my mom and I have been here, sitting on this exact sofa, wiping my tears away. How many times am I going to make my parents watch as I fall apart? Will I ever not be here, in this position, broken?
Mom must sense the change in my thoughts as she pulls in a deep breath and plasters a wide smile on her face. Standing, she brushes her hands over her denim-clad thighs before tugging down her white blouse. “Go and take a shower. I’m going to order food and then we can have an old-fashioned wine night, yeah?”
“Sounds good, Mom.” I nod, chewing the inside of my lip.
“Perfect.” She claps her hands together, giving me a wink. “So, shower, food, wine, and then you can tell me what fool broke my babies’ heart.”
“What makes you think—”
“Oh, Beatrice.” She tuts, shrugging. “You’ve only ever cried like that once before, and it wasn’t on what most would class as the worst days of your life. It was the day you watched Maverick walk away, turning his back on you. Now, go.” She throws an arm over my shoulder, guiding me to the stairs. “I’ll be down here when you’re ready.”
“I think I broke my own this time, Mom.”
She sighs, her eyes settling into understanding before she leaves me, and I remain on the bottom step, watching the hallway long after she’s gone. She’s right. While I cried over what happened with Sebastian, it was different. With him, it was tears of shame and anger. Embarrassment I’d ever let myself get into that situation—not that I was ever to blame, though it took me a long time to realize that.
But that day, at the courthouse? That was the day that opened my mind up to a world of darkness. I cried all night long, the tears never drying as I thought about the mistake I made. The panic attacks started that day, ripping me apart piece by piece. It was then that my parents decided to send me to therapy and a long two years of work began.
And now, today? It feels like I’m grieving a lost lifetime.
I’m not just mourning a lost relationship, but a friend.
A life.
Our life . . . the one we should have had.
Confusion builds, my brain becoming hazy as I scrunch my eyes closed. What if, once again, I got it wrong? Not by being with him . . . but letting him go. I lied again, thinking I was making the best decision for him. But should I have given him the choice, instead of taking it away and making it for him?
Mom slides a container of rice my way, a fork, and a glass of rosé. We eat in comfortable silence, the sound of the radio in the background the only noise filtering through the kitchen.
The wine slides down, warming my chest, and before I know it, I’m slightly tipsy and singing along to the radio. Mom sings alongside me, the bottle of wine almost empty as she moves to the fridge for another.
If there’s one thing that can be said for my mom, it’s that she’s the coolest person in the world. The shit I’ve dragged to her doorstep is plentiful, but she’s never once judged me. Instead, she holds my hand, wading through the trauma with me until she knows I’m ready to go it alone.
“I dropped out of college,” I whisper, unable to make the words stronger. Mom nods, her expression never straying from the neutral expression she wears. I swallow, grabbing my glass and tipping the remaining liquid down my throat before telling her the story . . . from the start.
She purses her lips, tears welling in her eyes when I get to this morning. I don’t tell her about the letters, or the pictures, the ones I’ve got stuffed in the trunk of my car. Too ashamed to admit I’ve let Sebastian control me once more.
Instead, I focus on Maverick and Willow, the first card to fall before the whole deck crumpled.
“God, Mom. She looked at me with so much hatred, and he just stood there. I never expected her to forgive me, but I thought that maybe we could find some common ground again, you know? We were friends for so long.”
“Did you give him a chance to say anything?” My eyes snap to Mom’s, my brow furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, Beatrice.” Topping up both our glasses, she drops onto the stool beside me, taking my hand in hers as she continues.
“I know teen drama is well out of my ballpark, and it’s been a long time since I was your age.” Raising my brow, I chuckle. Mom was seventeen when she had me, it’s hardly going back to the dinosaur era. “But I do remember that when things hurt, I would react first, then think later. And I know you, baby. If there’s one thing you’ve become really good at over the last two years, it’s pushing away the people that love you.”
“Mom,” I breathe, sighing as I close my eyes. I pull in a deep breath, holding it for four long seconds as I push away the fog. “I did react first. But I waited hours, and he never came. And all I could do in that time was think. He told me that I ruined him once.” She gestures for me to elaborate, sipping her wine as I do. “And while we may have both learned over the months that that wasn’t the truth. Staying there now, coming between him and his family. Him and his future. I would ruin him. I get why they hate me, Mom, and there’s no way I could have ever asked him to pick sides. How could I? This isn’t just about me pushing him away.”
“Isn’t it? Nobody is asking him to pick sides.”
“But he did,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to the marble. “I know it’s wrong of me to have expected him to leave her there and come find me, but when he didn’t, it hurt so bad. I have given so much of myself to other people over the years, too much of myself. But this time, I stole pieces from him too. Pieces that we’ll never be able to fit back together. We’re bad for each other, Mom. There’s so much history there, painful history. And this morning just proved that.
“He’s getting his life back together, after what I did to it. And I know I’m not entirely to blame, we both made poor choices back then, but now I can make the right choice. I can let him go, let him move on, for good this time.”
“You honestly think that’s the right choice?” she asks, her head cocked to the side as she watches me. “You really think he’s better off without you in his life?”
No . . . I don’t know.
“I do.” I nod, strengthening my resolve. I made this decision, and I have to live with it.
No matter what doubts spring to my mind, it is the right one.
It has to be.
Pushing off the counter, I start to clear the containers and cutlery from our dinner.
“He deserves a real shot at life with people who love and support him at his back. Not someone that will only drag him down.”
“Don’t you think that’s his decision to make?”
“Maybe,” I say, my lips trembling. “But it doesn’t matter now. I made the decision for us, giving him the chance he deserves.”
Maverick
The days drag, each feeling longer with Beatrice gone.
For a split second in the mornings, I forget, expecting her to be tucked under the comforter when I peel my eyes open, but she never is. And then reality comes crashing back down. It’s suffocating. But I still get out of bed, forcing myself to get through the day.
Letting her go, giving her the freedom she asked for, it’s for the best. It’s got to be. Because if not, then she threw us away for nothing, and I just let her walk out the door. And that’s not something I can think about.
Maisie slides onto the bench beside me, a half smile, half grimace on her face as she holds a cup of coffee toward me. “Peace offering?”
A chuckle slips past my lips, and I shake my head, taking the to-go cup from her hands. When Maisie found out Beatrice dropped out, her first stop was my apartment, and boy, did that girl chew me out. She said more than a few choice words, and if looks could kill, I’d have been six feet under, buried beneath a pile of shit. Which I’m starting to think I deserve the longer I go without seeing my girl.
Her shoulders sag in relief, and she laughs to herself. “I’m sorry, Maverick. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I shrug, turning to look out over the quad. It’s quieter this morning, the chilly temperatures drawing students inside where the warmth is. My own skin pebbles as wind batters around us. “I’m guessing you spoke to her?”
“Yeah, I have.”
“You were right, you know,” I tell her, playing with the lid of my cup. “I should have gone after her. We wasted so much time and then when it mattered, instead of just following her, I wasted even more. You know, I thought it was so important to convince Willow why us being together wasn’t a bad thing, instead of just saying fuck it. It shouldn’t matter what everyone else thinks, should it?”
Maisie doesn’t answer, falling into silence next to me. She offers no words of reassurance, nor words of doubt. She sits beside me, letting me get lost in my thoughts.
