That shuts me up.
David shoves his hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m not underestimating you, okay? I know you can take care of yourself. Any girl worth shit can. But you know what? Any guy worth shit looks out for her anyway,” he growls.
I drop my gaze. How can I argue with that?
Suddenly David’s eyes dart over my shoulder, and he tenses, his face going pale in an instant. I try to turn to see what’s irked him, but he grabs my shoulders and tugs me back around the bend, angling me so he’s effectively blocking my line of sight.
What the fuck?
“Beth, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to stay here for a few minutes, in this exact spot.”
“What—”
“Please. I’m asking you to do this for me.” His hazel eyes implore me desperately, and it’s deeply out of character. “Bea, please?”
My mouth gapes open, and I think I’m more stunned by his plea than his reaction to whatever’s got him all worked up. But before I can even respond, he squeezes my shoulders to emphasize his request—stay—and then he’s gone.
I look around from my time-out corner, infinitely puzzled. What the hell is going on? Is David in trouble?
My heart races in concern. I don’t really know him in this world, but back when they were in high school, he and his friends, including my brother—especially my brother—definitely threw their share of fists. I wince when I remember David walking into our house with Sammy and Tucker hot on his heels, six pairs of knuckles swollen and bloody just days after Brian broke up with me.
Brian didn’t show up to school for over a week.
I shift in place, tapping my fingers on my opposite elbow with impatience. It’s not like me to hang back on the sidelines, or to do what I’m told without challenge. But the way he asked me to stay here…
Suddenly there’s shouting in the distance.
I hesitate briefly, but even David’s desperate plea can’t change my nature, and I abandon my corner in search of the commotion.
I find it by the back door.
David shoves someone into two of his frat brothers, who grab the guy and start pulling him outside. “I didn’t fucking know it was your frat,” the guy sneers.
I freeze. That voice is unmistakably familiar, but of course, it’s impossible.
David wipes off his hands like he’s just handled trash. “Now you fucking know. Don’t come back here.” He turns his back on—
Holy shit—Brian.
Brian is here. “Brian?” His name falls from my lips like I’m in a dream, and all eyes turn to me. “Bethy—” Brian starts to say something, but David gestures to his buddies and they quite literally throw him out.
I stand, frozen, in the middle of the back hallway, still not entirely convinced this is reality.
“Beth.” David gets my attention, and I blink at him.
“What is he doing here?”
He rubs his palm down his face in frustration. “He transferred here.”
“What? Why?” That makes no sense. “He’s at Dartmouth.”
David grits his teeth, grinding them together in that way he does when he’s trying to hold in his frustration. “Not anymore. There was an open position on our soccer team. He got recruited.”
I rub at my head, trying to relieve the tension pooling in my temples.
And I don’t even know why. It shouldn’t even matter. He’s just an ex-boyfriend. It’s been three years. We were only kids…or at least I was.
But no matter how much time has passed, how much pain endured, you never forget your first heartbreak. And no matter how much you heal, you never fully recover.
