Nathan’s thin lips form a tight line as he nods and takes a step back. He tucks his hands into his pockets, turning on his heel, and I relax into the warmth of the man beside me. Nathan takes one step, but then turns back around, and all of his attention is now on me. There's something deeply unsettling about it, and it’s now that I understand in the last three years, he’s never actually looked me in the eyes until right now.
“Oh, and Chloe, I wouldn’t worry too much about how your interview went,” he says. “I’m sure you did great. You were always soeagerto please when you were?—”
Maverick fists clench, and he takes a step forward, every muscle in his body coiled tight. “You better think real fucking hard about the next words that leave your mouth,” he seethes.
He peeks over Maverick’s shoulder, getting one last glance at me, and I cross my arms, looking away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the way his words rattled me before he walks away.
“Hey.” Maverick positions himself in front of me; his hands cup my cheeks, and he gently guides my face up. “Look at me.” His voice is pleading but gentle.
“I’m fine,” I say too quickly, turning away from the door.
“You don’t have to be.” His hand falls into mine, and his eyes stay assessing me until I nod once. We fall into step beside each other and head toward the parking lot.
In a way, Nathan is the physical manifestation of everything I’ve been fighting in my life. Nathan has been the one thing I put my heart and mind into and failed. He’s the one thing I wanted and never got. But now, I’m wondering how much of myself actually wantedhim.To be with Nathan would be to settle.
Academically, I’ve been going after things because I’m too afraid to put my all into writing, because it’s the one thing I’m afraid to fail at. If I continue to do things just because I have a no-fail attitude but it's stuff I don’t give a shit about, then aren’t I technically settling?
Maverick’s house is oddly quiet, but I don’t question it. I know I’m supposed to be the girl who has it all figured out, and even when I don’t, I can pretend like I do, but I couldn’t put on a brave face right now for the life of me.
A part of me wants to be furious with Nathan. It’s always been in my nature to replay every single word he’s said. To hold on to in times of doubt, when it felt like we might never happen. ‘If I was ready to be with someone, you know it would be you.’Now, when I should be clinging to his disgusting jabs, and using them to fuel my anger, they don’t stick. Instead, all I can focus on is the embarrassment burrowing in the pit of my stomach as I stand unmoving in Maverick’s kitchen. I stare blankly at the counter, my hands hanging limply at mysides, and somewhere in the background, I hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing.
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, biting back the burn in my eyes when Maverick’s hand finds the small of my back, and he guides me to his room. The lights are off the same way they were only a few nights ago, but without being pinned against his door under his unwavering gaze, I can take in the rest of the room. It’s spotless. His dark brown wooden dresser matches the desk beside it where everything is meticulously placed. A beige futon rests along the far wall by a door that leads to the backyard. And the exposed brick opposite of his bed ties the room together.
I shuck off my coat, not wanting any reminders of Nathan near me right now, and Maverick guides me to the edge of his bed, handing me a water bottle. The olive green bedding takes me by surprise when I sink into it, not expecting it to be so plush. It feels like how I imagine those display beds at luxury furniture stores would feel.
I twist the cap on the bottle, just to have something to do with my hands, but I close it immediately and set it down on the floor beside my feet. I want to fold over, hiding my face in my hands but I remain upright, going over all the ways that I endlessly gave myself to someone who never once reached back. I was so blinded by the idea of loving him, and everyone else could see it, but me. There was never a doubt in my mind that patience would turn into commitment, and only now that I feel lower than dirt, can I look back and see it so clearly.
That’s the part that hurts the most. Not the fact that Nathan didn’t choose me, but that I kept choosing him despite it.
As if he can hear my thoughts, Maverick speaks up in the quiet room. “You know, you could have him now—if you wanted.”
My head is shaking before he even finishes his sentence. “Idon’t,” I whisper, keeping my focus on my hands in my lap. “I haven’t thought about him in weeks.” And it’s true. When he texted me last weekend, I was thrown off, not because I couldn’t respond to him, but because I actually hadn’t thought about him. “It just sucks to realize that I can give everything, every part of myself to someone, and still not be enough.”
There’s a quiet shuffle and then Maverick is on his knees in front of me. One hand curls around mine, warm and steady, the other tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Chloe baby, even on your worst days, you’re more than enough.”
I squeeze my eyes, not wanting any tears to slip out, and I shake my head because the words make my heart flip beneath my ribs, and that scares me more than anything, because how can I trust her anymore.
“I just feel like I wasted so much time, and he…he was never thinking about me.” I pull my lips between my teeth, attempting to bite back the sadness and reach for the thread of anger I want to feel for him. “I was always a last resort for him.”
“That’s how I know he’s an idiot. He shouldn’t have been able to sleep at night because his thoughts were so consumed by you.”
I huff a breathy laugh, but Maverick’s hand tightens around mine. “I’m serious, Chlo. I think about you all the time.All the fucking time.” His voice is so sincere, that even though I'm not sure I can trust myself, he leaves no room to question him.
I lift my head, only to find his eyes already waiting for me, and suddenly the room feels too warm for the goosebumps spreading across my arms. “You do?”
The column of his throat works, and he nods his head once. “Yeah.” It comes out no more than a whisper, but it’s unmistakable, and when I tilt my head, silently asking himfor more, he delivers. “I think about you over the smallest things, like when I pass the library on my way to practice, or every dumb little rule that gets broken.”
I suck in my cheeks, attempting to hide my smile, but when Maverick’s lips lift at the corners, I know he saw me.
“I think about you when I set my alarm three hours earlier than I need to just so I can get up to see the sun break through the horizon and paint the sky in that perfect soft blue color.”
I don’t understand what his words mean, but I understand how my body reacts to him. His thumb brushes across the sensitive part of my wrist, and I’m certain he can feel my pulse exploding. His eyes never leave mine, sure and unflinching like he knows I wouldn’t look away even if I could.
“Those horoscopes I’ve been sending you? They didn’t magically appear on my phone. I saw one once and I looked up what yours was. Every time I see a horoscope, I look up yours, too.”
I let go of a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and slowly, the room around me begins to fade.
