How five single days weigh like five years, I don’t know, but it does. Every minute is slow passing, every footstep in the hall of my dorm, triggering, my mind tricking myself that maybe, just maybe, it’s him on the other side. That his knuckles will come down with his knock and when I open the door, he’ll be standing there with a smile, but that never happens.
The anxiety alone made it too hard to stay home, so I’ve been hiding in the library, when not in class, and I forced myself to skip their game two nights ago, but as painful as it was, I did watch it on TV.
Mason’s pissed, I won’t tell him what’s going on.
Brady checks on me every night.
And Chase, he’s been calling and texting me twice a day, all of which have gone unanswered.
I don’t know why, but this morning, it all became too much. I woke with a heavy sense of desperation, of need, and I couldn’t help myself.
I called Noah when I knew he should have been free, but he didn’t pick up, so I sent him a message, hoping that would work.
He never responded.
Cameron said she’s seen him a time or two when visiting Trey, but he doesn’t stop to talk with anyone, simply going straight to his room. She has talked to Chase.
According to her, he’s resorted to coming over now that there’s no denying, I’m ignoring him. Supposedly, he stopped by twice this week already, both times when I was out, thank god.
With how determined he seems to be to try and reach me, I’m not sure how much longer I can avoid him, a fact that rings true when I round the corner of the library, where I’ve been hiding myself most days, and there Chase sits not fifteen yards away.
I freeze in place, a million thoughts running through my mind, the loudest of which telling me to make a run for it, but my feet don’t move.
Maybe it’s time to let him say what’s on his mind. To have a real conversation, like we should have done so long ago. The problem is, I wasn’t ready for it then, and to be honest, I don’t think he was either.
Over the last few days, I’ve thought a lot about Chase, more than I care to admit, but it was what Noah asked of me, and I realized quickly how necessary it was.
I had blocked out everything, the pain that came with the mention of his name alone was too much at the time and it caused everything to become muddled. I put him in a box and pushed it away.
I needed to remember, to revisit every moment with Chase to realize where we went wrong… and where we felt right. My memories reminded me of why I fell in love with him in the first place. Alone with my thoughts, I cried and laughed, and then I realized…
I missed him.
I miss the guy who would take it easy on me when the others would get on my case about a skirt they thought was a little too short. The guy who slipped me and Cameron a couple beers in secret, when Mason said we weren’t allowed to get drunk.
The guy who stayed out in the water with me long after the others complained of the cold because he knew I hated when it was time to leave the ocean.
But it wasn’t only about him.
I missed our group nights, where no one else was invited, just the five of us.
Me, Cameron, Mason, Brady, and Chase.
Ever since junior high, the only time we were apart was a few weeks each summer when the boys went off to football camp, but even then, we would video chat at least once a day.
Of course Cam and I would have a blast without our bodyguards, but we quickly missed the other pieces to our puzzle. Even when we were having the time of our lives in St. Petersburg this past summer, where Cam met Trey, we missed our boys.
After the blowout with Chase at the beginning of the school year, things changed, and it wasn’t fair to the others, especially since they are pretty much clueless to why the air in the room was different.
It’s time to make it right for all of us, for real this time. I know that, but even so, I can’t express how guilty I feel for missing Chase.
How could I miss the man I was so angry with that I so callously hurt mine?
I ache for Noah, deeply, desperately.
The loss eating me away day by day is like nothing I’ve ever felt. So many times, I wanted to say to hell with it and run all the way to his house, but I held myself back. Barely.
I did head there once, when I was feeling extra alone, but as soon as his truck came into view, tears fell, and I turned around.
What kills me most is how I know he’s living right now. Alone and in silence.
He doesn’t party much, if at all, and he doesn’t run in a large crowd. All the free time he had he spent with me, and I know he hasn’t filled those slots with anything else.
I know he’s as lonely as I am, more so even.
What’s worse is what must be running through his mind, doubt I planted.
It’s my job to take it away.
It’s with that thought in mind that I don’t turn around and walk in the opposite direction.
I walk over to Chase.
Dressed in a hoodie and sweats with his football bag dropped in front of him, his head hangs. His leg is bouncing like he’s nervous, and he stares at his palms as he rubs them together.
“Hey,” I call once I’m a few steps away.
His head pops up, unease written all over him. “Hey.”
Chase jumps up, his mouth opening but nothing comes out, so I offer a small smile and that seems to ease him some.
“You got a sec?” he wonders.
Nerves swirl in my stomach, but I motion toward the table anyway.
He reaches for me, and I let him pull me onto the seat of the picnic table.
My eyes fall to our joined hands, and slowly, I pull away, looking up at him.
He nods, swallowing.
“I miss you, Ari. I miss everything.” Apprehension pulls at his features. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything I did, and for everything I should have done, but didn’t.”
“I know, and I’m sorry I acted the way I did after. I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you when we didn’t go anywhere after that night. I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t care then what happened after. That was on me.”
“Don’t,” he says sternly, shifting to face me better. “Don’t do that. I was, no, I am a stupid man. I should have… I shouldn’t have… fuck.” A frustrated sigh leaves him and he meets my eyes.
We stare at each other in silence for several seconds.
Pain and regret gazes back at me, confusion slowly following.
With a small smile, Chase reaches up, tucking my hair behind my ear. His touch lingers a moment, and when his thumb caresses my cheek the slightest bit, I can’t help but lean in.
He had so much of my past, and it’s not that it’s hard to let it go, I’d already done that once, it’s seeing the pain he’s in that stings. He’s never shown it before, not like this.
But the feeling of his skin on mine is all wrong, so I cover his hand with my own, and his eyes gloss over as I remove his from my face.
“I wish we could start over,” he says then.
A light laugh leaves me, and I shake my head. “I don’t. Yeah, things got shitty, but just because things went wrong doesn’t mean that night wasn’t special.”
“It was,” he whispers. “It was special.”
My lips twitch, and I lower my eyes to my lap. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”
“So have I,” he rushes, gripping my hands, and I look to him. “There’s a lot more I want to say, but I’m kind of out of time now. I’ve been out here for a couple hours already, hoping I would catch you a little earlier,” he admits sheepishly. “Think we can talk after practice tomorrow?”
My stomach turns, but I manage a smile, nodding. “Playoffs. That’s pretty epic.”
Chase chuckles, but his eyes fall to the grass. “Yeah. Pretty epic.”
After a moment, he sighs, pushing to his feet, and I stand with him.
Hesitantly, he steps in, his arms coming around me, and while I tense a second, I hug him back in the next.
There’s tension between us, it’s obvious, so in an attempt to lighten the mood, I joke, “I’m glad you stalked me before practice, or I’d be gagging right now.”
Chase chuckles, and I pull back, smiling up at him, but the moment my eyes meet his, my throat runs dry.
A familiar tingle runs down my spine, and I shiver, instantly going stiff.
His brows furrow in confusion, and slowly, I glance over my shoulder.
My stomach hits the ground, an instant wave of nausea rolling through me.
No…
Frozen in place with his keys dangling from his fingers, blue eyes sear me.
My hands fly to my sides, and he cuts a quick glance to Chase.
He nods, and I shake my head.
“Noah,” I breathe his name, desperation oozing from my tone. I step toward him.
He turns away.
“Noah, wait!” I rush forward, but he’s already slipping into his truck, and then he’s gone.
Tears flood my eyes, and I clutch my abdomen with one hand, trying to get a hold of myself.
“Ari— ” Chase begins from behind me.
“I need a minute,” I say, without turning around, following Noah’s truck from the parking lot.
“Arianna—”
“I said I need a minute. Please.” I swallow.
In my peripheral, he nods, grabs his bag, and walks away.
For several minutes, I choke for air, fight back tears, and scream internally.
And then I steal my spine, take a deep breath, and push forward.
I walk straight to the practice field, going the opposite direction Chase disappeared, and I hang back near the parking lot.
Noah’s truck isn’t in sight.
I go inside the stadium, searching the field as the team takes it.
Noah isn’t there.
I wait, and before I know it, the sun’s gone down and the coach is calling it quits.
Noah never shows.
