“It is over, and no, we won’t be talking.”
His jaw grinds, but he shakes his head, jogging back out to the field.
Letting out a sigh, I go to turn away, but my eyes catch on a familiar set of hazel-green ones.
Easton Wright.
Fuck, I hate that he’s only gotten hotter with age.
It’s been eight years since our friendship ended.
Everything went downhill after that night.
Once we were no longer friends, Easton made his hatred for me well known.
He joined the school's football team and became friends with his teammates.
The next year, when we went into high school, Easton switched schools. He moved to the next town over, River Ridge, and we hardly saw one another after that.
We would bump into each other at the odd party. Even as time passed, the one thing that he made clear in my presence was his hatred for me.
Some things never change. He’s proving that right now.
It’s hard to believe all of that hate is because of a kiss. One single stupid mistake.
I still have no idea why he hates me so damn much.
I hate how much I wish I knew his reason.
We hold eye contact for a moment, the tension between us still thick, even from this far away.
His jaw grinds before he looks away as my dad joins me at my side.
“Here you go. Sorry about the wait.”
“Nah, you’re good.” I take the papers. “Thanks. See you later.”
“You still coming for supper, Sunday?”
“Since when have I missed a family supper?”
“Just wanted to check,” he chuckles. “See you, bud.” He gives me a hug.
“Later, Dad.”
“I think our first week was a success,” Lilly says, smiling as she looks out at all the kids immersed in their new books.
“I agree. They look like they’re really enjoying it.” My attention lands on the group of boys over in the corner. Whenthey first got here, they were acting like they were forced to be here. And I guess in a way, they were by their parents.
Lilly assigned me to their little group. After chatting with them about my favorite books, they were surprised that not only did I like reading, but I’m a hockey player that likes to read. It seemed to change their attitude.
“What are you up to for the rest of the night?” Lilly asks, bringing her attention to me.
“Going out with some friends.” I shrug.
“Getting drunk?” She raises a brow.
“Hey, I’m twenty-one. I can drink,” I protest.
