“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She’d also never look at me the same way again.
“Bailey, please? I want to help.”
I scrub at a particularly stubborn spot on the deck, trying to organize my thoughts to ensure I’m not lying to her. I don’t think I could forgive myself if I lied to Kait. “I quit because I don’t see the point in playing anymore.”
“You don’t see the point? Doesn’t it make you happy?” she asks, and I feel my chest squeeze with grief because soccer does—or it did—make me happy. “Isn’t the fact that you love it enough of a reason to keep playing?”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” I say, resisting themagnetic pull to look at her so she won’t be able to see everything I’m leaving unsaid on my face. I love Kaitlyn, but I know better than to say anything about my feelings. I’d rather have the pieces of her than none at all, especially as I feel more and more alone with each passing day.
It’s easier to isolate myself than to give other people the chance to leave me.
“Why do I feel like there’s an underlying meaning to that?”
Sometimes, she’s too damn smart for her own good. It’s one of my favorite things about her, though. Kaitlyn has no problem calling me out on my shit, and I really appreciate it, even if I’m hoping she’ll let this go.
“No.”
Her hand lands on mine, stopping me. “Please tell me what happened? I’m worried.”
I can’t think straight with Kait touching me. It feels like I’ve been shocked by a thousand volts of electricity, and if I look at her right now, I’ll tell her everything.
Pure stubbornness is the only thing keeping my gaze trained on the board, and I shake my head. “Nothing happened. I just don’t want to play soccer anymore.”
“What do your parents think about you quitting?”
A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it.As if they’d care.I think a part of me thought maybe if I quit soccer, they’d finally notice how not okay I am—but to notice that, my parents would have to noticeme.
“Kait, it’s fine. Just let it go,” I say, trying to recover from the wave of misery clinging to my skin like a slick layer of oil.
She doesn’t say anything. Once I’ve worked up the nerve to look at her again, I’m struck by the sadness in her expression. SadnessIput there, and it guts me.
All I ever want Kaitlyn to do is smile. It’s prettier than any sunset I’ve seen because, to me, Kaitlyn is the sun.
Finally, she nods. “Okay, but you have to promise you’ll tell me eventually,” she says, offering me her pinky.
I don’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. If anyone could cheer me up, it’s her—especially with the added bonus of making a pinky promise. They’re sacred.
I can agree to “eventually.” It’s not a definitive timeline, so it’s not a promise I’ll break.
“Okay,” I say, wrapping my pinky around hers.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kaitlyn
NOW
I stareat Hunter in shock because the words have already left my mouth.
I can’t take them back, and I won’t.
This wasn’t how I wanted to tell him, but I’m not going to lie and say it isn’t true.
“Hunter, I can explain,” I say, watching as his walls go up against me. I know I should have said something sooner to him, but how could I? Hunter has everything planned out for himself, and even though I didn’t intend to hurt him by changing my part of the plan, I did.
“What’s deferred?” Javi asks, and it thankfully takes some of the attention off of me, but obviously I’m going to have to explain to my mom.
