one
Maddox
SeniorYearofHighSchool.
The world keeps the ugly truth about love to itself: Not everyone falls in love with someone who will love them back.
They don’t tell you it’s suffocating, wrought with pain, and shadowed with shame.
The murmuredwhooshof ocean waves floats up to me. It should be calming, peaceful, but my skin is alive everywhere he touches like it’s a creature all its own. I stare out into the inky black abyss. Some days I wish it’d swallow me. Is there a more acute torture than loving someone who can’t love you but is a constant presence in your life? Because that’s my reality.
I’m leaning back on my hands, staring out into the endless ocean. It’s impossible to tell where the water ends and the sky begins.
Easton rests his head on my shoulder, a sigh I’ve heard a thousand times before falling from him. I know exactly what that sigh means. I know how his usual strung-taut body softens with the sound; how his light blue eyes turn hazy with contentment. He’s all motion, all tension, all the time. Except when we come here. Except with me. Those relaxed sighs are ones he only makes with me, but they’ll never mean what I want them to mean.
“You and me, Maddy,” he says. “We’re going to make it happen. When we come down here, I can feel it.”
I hum to hide the cracking of my heart; certain it must be audible with how fiercely the pain streaks through my chest. He’s so good at that—destroying me. Yet the battered organ in my chest tries to snuggle closer to him. A glutton for punishment.
I stare up into the cloudless, star-dusted night sky.You and me.Everything I’ve ever wanted, even before I was old enough to understand what these feelings were. Love. I’m in love with my best friend. But the meaning behind East’s words isn’t what my heart desperately grasps for.
He lifts his head off me, and I mourn the loss. I collect those small touches, gather them up and keep them in a secret spot just for me. Where the pathetic, love-sick fool pretends things could be different. That his straight best friend would finally see the truth—that no one is more perfect for him, no one would treat him better…than the fool himself.
Fuck, I hate myself. I can only imagine what East would do if he found out. If he found out he’s a part of every one of my dreams and fantasies. Shame eats away at my gut. I try so hard to suppress the desire. Love is one thing, but to lust after him? It feels like a violation.
It was confusing enough to realize I liked boys—terrifying, if I’m honest. The world has come a long way, sure, but it’s still too easy to see all the bad—the systemic homophobia. It’s rampant on social media, in the locker rooms. It infiltrates your mind, slithers under your skin, plants these dark little seeds that make you doubt yourself, make you wonder if you really are as vile as they say.
And my truth? It only feeds it. Every thought that keeps me up at night, every scene I play over and over in my head…has been about the guy whose body is pressed against mine right now, calf to calf, thigh to thigh, hip to hip.
Easton will never know. Because having any part of him is better than having no part of him. I’ll take the scraps, like a starved dog, salivating over anything he’s willing to give me. I suppress the sardonic laughter rumbling in my chest. Best friend is so far fromscraps.
Sometimes I think that makes it worse. Every day I look into those blue eyes and fall harder. I lie next to him, just listening to his soft, even breath when he sleeps over, my own sleep evading me because every part of me prickles with the awareness that he’sright there. And then during the day I watch as the girls fawn over him, chase after him—and catch him. Because he’s a catch, Gold Glove worthy.
You and me.
He has no idea how much those words light me up and tear me down at the same time.
“Maddy?”
He’s looking at me. I can tell, even though I’m staring straight out across the midnight ocean we’ve snuck out to more times than I can count. This is our spot. Where we come to talk about our dreams. Our worries. I never voice my deepest ones, though.
I swallow it all down. The desperation. The longing. The words that are increasingly difficult to keep down every day.I love you.I don’t say it. No, what I do is turn to him, a confident smile on my lips, and stare into those blue eyes, a million striations of glimmering grey in the night.
A line furrows his brow, and I fist the blanket beneath my palms. Don’t touch.He’s not for you.Not that he’d object if I smoothed it away. Easton has always been physically affectionate. That delirious laugh almost surfaces. Because he would be, wouldn’t he? He’s free with his touches, not realizing how each one is like a blade, leaving permanent wounds. I’m covered in scars because of this boy.
“You and me, East. Ballplayers.”Boyfriends, my heart whispers.“D1 college ball isn’t ready for us.”You won’t ever be ready for me.
A wide, free grin splits East’s face, and his eyes light up. That light reaches inside me and fists my gut. I grind my teeth to keep my smile in place. He’s so achingly beautiful. My gaze traces the straight bridge of his nose, his high cheekbones, the line of his soft jaw, so smooth. He’s always grumbled about how I was able to grow a full beard by thirteen and he still barely needs to shave at eighteen. His hair is black in the night, but it’s brown toffee. It’s a unique color. Unique like him.
“Best friends in the major leagues,” I say.
“The two of us, future Bridgeport Jetties,” he says, excitement bubbling into his tone.
Our team. We’ve cheered for the Jetties since we were little, before we even understood what we were cheering for. Been to countless games, been there for the wins and the crushing losses. It’s been our dream for the longest time.
His grin somehow widens, his cheeks bunching over the corners of his lips. So full of joy. Of happiness. Of hope. I steal this one away to keep with the rest of the memories. For when he’s gone. Because at some point, he’ll move on without me. We have college ball, but I’m not living in a delusional world. I know I’m not good enough for the majors, to make it big. But Easton is. He’s incredible.
I also know Easton will never be mine the way I want him to be.
