A little stone of guilt drops into my stomach, but I push past it. “Hectic, honestly. Coach had us doing drills, like, body-aching drills, and Andrew was making jokes to kinda help us through it. Basically, he pulled his gear over his head because of what happened last week.” I laugh, shaking my head at his antics.
“Wait, I don’t get the joke. What happened last week?” she asks, confusion coloring her tone.
I think back, trying to figure out how to explain it. “It’s kind of a long story. I guess it’s a ‘you had to be there’ kind of thing.”
“Right.” Her voice lowers to a whisper and the silence between us is thick, leaving an uneasy feeling inside me. She sighs once again, and I realize even though it may seem like she isn’t upset ...
Two sighs in the span of five minutes is never a good sign.
“Have you noticed we haven’t been talking as much?” The words come out as if she’s been holding them in for a while, and thinking back, she’s not entirely wrong. I move to say something when she continues again. “It’s either been canceled because of football or for some other thing related to that. And, I get it, I do. I just feel sick of being left behind.” She isn’t shouting, but she might as well be.
I sigh. “Youfeel left behind? Every time we text or talk, you’re always saying how you love your life in Philly. How you’re getting new friends. Did you ever stop to think about how that makesmefeel left behind? I’m sorry I found something that helps me forget you’re not here with me anymore.” My voice starts controlled, but as emotions bleed through the words, it raises a bit, disbelief coursing through me as she huffs, appalled.
“At least the friends I’ve made here showed up for me on my birthday,” she digs.
“At least the friends I’ve made here didn’t leave me by flying two thousand miles away.”
Once again, silence envelops the call, and I pant as the bubbling anger simmers, leaving me with a horrible feeling of regret.
“Well, if I’m such a bad friend, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore,” she says dejectedly.
The words run through my head and I respond, “Maybe we shouldn’t.” There’s a sharp intake of breath, and my heart pushes me to take back the words. The insecurities I’ve felt ever since she moved away are winning right now.
I screwed up, I admitted that, but to insinuate I’ve been leaving her behind or not thinking about her? The accusation of not taking her feelings into consideration hurts when that’s all I’ve been doing. I think back to the times I’ve woken up early to talk to her, chugging an energy drink to stay awake for the rest of my day. Listening to how she’s moved on, and being proud and supportive even though it’s killed me inside. I started football to deal with her leaving, and now she’s using that against me?
“Congrats on your win, Liam,” she says sharply.
“Thanks, I’ll be celebrating it with people who actually stuck around.” It’s the last thing said before she hangs up, and the adrenaline of the phone call wears off. I sit on the porch steps, death-staring at my phone, hoping she calls back.
An ache forms inside of me as I realize what I’ve done, and I press a hand to my chest while I ignore the cheering coming from inside the house. I look up, willing myself not to cry as my eyes trace each constellation in the night sky. Her birthday present stays wrapped perfectly in my hand, and I look down at it with tainted thoughts. This is a fight—we’ve had them prior and we always bounced back. We’ll bounce back now too. We just need time to cool off, and then we’ll be all good.
Bianca and Liam, forever and ever, right?
CHAPTER ONE
BIANCA
Five Years Later
“Congratulations, class of twenty twenty-four!”
Grinning, we all throw our caps upward to the sky, shrieks of laughter erupting from everyone as we finally finish our four years of high school. Moving through the crowd of people, I find Mom waving at me and I sprint toward her.
“You did it, honey!” she yells while squeezing me tightly, me returning the gesture. I pull back, seeing tears in her eyes, some of my own welling. “You know your dad would have been so proud,” she says softly, and even with all the noise, I hear it loud as day and sigh. This year marks thirteen years since we lost Dad and my baby brother Ezra in a car crash. The memory never fails to leave me, holding me prisoner.
Not helping the no-crying situation, I nod once again, and she hugsme even tighter.
“Compliments on your graduation, Bianca.” Pulling back, Josh, Mom’s boyfriend, stands there in his suit and tie. His arm curves around Mom’s waist, his wrist glinting with a watch way too expensive to be worn at a high school graduation. “Kate and I are over the moon.” He gives me a small smile and I return it. She nods, placing her hand on his chest, sporting a grin as she looks up at him.
Joshua Callaway. One of the top criminal lawyers here in Philly and, unfortunately, someone Mom really cares about. They’ve been together for a year now, and while he’s ... nice, there’s something that doesn’t sit right with me. I’ve chalked it up to possibly being about his overall shallow nature, and I guess it’s not theworstthing. He drags a finger along Mom’s jawline, flicking the diamond earring when he reaches her earlobe. She giggles, and I roll my eyes while shaking my head.
At least he treats her right ... That’s all that matters.
“Bianca!” Jamie, my absolute best friend in the world, runs toward me, and I excuse myself as we crash into each other. “Oh my freaking goodness! We graduated!” she shrieks, and proceeds to interlace her fingers with mine as we jump up and down.
“I know, right? I can’t believe it either.”
She smiles, and I realize that without this girl who has the attitude of someone seven feet tall, I wouldn’t have made it through high school. “And pretty soon, roomies at UPenn!”
