“And you couldn’t let me know before you left?” I ask, swallowing hard. “How long were you going to let me think you were just ignoring me again? What if I hadn't picked your lock?”
Colten sighs, dropping his face into his hands. He drags his fingers through his hair, accidentally pulling pieces loose from his ponytail.
“Look, I'll drive you back, but I need more time—”
“No.” The word leaves my mouth before I even think about it.
Colten looks up, frowning at me. “That’s not your call to make.”
I take a deep breath and remind myself that Colten is my favorite person in the world, even if I want to smack him sometimes. Like right now.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I’m not leaving, so get over it,” I tell him.
“You don’t understand,” Colten insists, shaking his head. “It’s better this way, for both of us.”
Nowthatmakes me angry. “You don’t get to decide that I’m better off without you.”
His shoulders curl inward. It’s a rare look for him, one full of vulnerability. I sit up straighter, wanting to pull him back up and remind him who he is. Maybe shake him a little to get him to stop overthinking.
“What if…” His voice catches, and I stay where I am. “What if what I want…isn’t what you want?”
I don’t hesitate. “Then we’ll figure it out.”
His eyes flick back to mine.
I add, a bit dryly, “It’s called being an adult.”
Colten stares at me, blinking. “Just like that?”
I nod. “Just like that.”
Colten’s head falls into his hands again. “Patrick, why are you so…”
He trails off, but that doesn’t matter, because I can tell he’s coming around.
“We’ve been friends for three years,” I push. “If you don’t want to talk about whatever is bugging you, fine, but does our friendship matter so little that you will run away without even trying to work it out with me?”
“Of course not, but…”
“But nothing,” I say, letting out a loud sigh. “We’ve seen each other at our worst—you don’t get to run away and not even try, not when I’ve seen you accidentally pass to the opposing team, and you’ve seen me hit my head with a ball more than is probably healthy.”
Colten looks back up, watching me quietly.
I turn down my volume a bit, taking one of his hands in my own, easing the death grip he has on his hair. “Please stay by my side, Colten. You don’t have to talk about it, but you can’t keep shutting me out.”
Squeezing his hand, Colten looks down at where our hands are connected before dipping his head and nodding. “You…you’re right. I’m sorry, Patrick.”
“Of course I am,” I say, grinning, though it’s not as wide as usual. “You overthink, I underthink—we work perfectly.”
Colten snorts at that before standing up, clearing his throat and getting back to business. He sheds off any idea of insecurity like it never happened.
“Fine, then,” he says, sniffing. “If we’re doing this, you need to take a shower. You smell like a biohazard.”
I grin wider, glad he’s back to his usual self. “Or like determination,” I suggest.
“Determination usually doesn’t smell like something crawled up your ass and died,” he replies.
I choke on my laugh, slapping the Power Scouts’ blanket. “Rude!”
