MAGGIE
I need to talk to you.
I stared down at my phone. It was a text from West. He’d been upset this morning, but I left when Serena showed up. I wasn’t into watching them be all over each other. I was doing what I promised myself, and being his friend. That didn’t mean I had to like Serena.
Thursday I’d ended up in the restroom at the same time as her and some other cheerleaders. She was telling them how she had given West a blow job in the guys’ bathroom that morning. That particular image was one I wanted to cut out of my brain.
Even though being West’s friend did not mean I had to hang around him and his whatever she was, he had clearly been hurting earlier. His morning with his dad had to have been bad. Now it was time for the pep rally, though, so I wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him about it.
I moved out of the way of traffic in the hallway as everyone hurried to the gym so I could text him back.
Okay. Do you want to talk after the pep rally?
I sent the message and waited a minute to see if he replied.
“No, I want to talk now.” His voice was in my ear as his hand wrapped around my arm. Then he was moving me away from the crowd and down the empty hallway.
I didn’t ask where we were going. I just went.
He opened the door to a classroom that didn’t look like it was used anymore and guided me inside.
There were no desks in here. It was a small empty room with only one window. I turned to face him as the door clicked closed.
West closed the distance between us, but he didn’t touch me. He just stared down at me as if he were searching for some answer.
“I can’t do this tonight. I need to be home with my dad. He’s just getting worse. What if I’m out playing a game and he . . . goes? What then, Maggie? How will I forgive myself for not being there beside him? For not being there to hold my momma? She’s gonna need me.” His eyes became watery even though I knew he wouldn’t cry, and he rubbed his hand over his mouth and nose. “God, I can’t do this. I can’t. He loved football. We loved it. But I love him more.” He spoke each word as if it were ripping him open.
I reached over and took both of his hands in mine. That always seemed to calm him. “What would he want you to do? If it were his choice, what would your dad want?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
West sighed and hung his head. “He’d want me to play. He always wanted me to play.”
I didn’t say anything more. I let him think about it as we stood there. He laced his fingers through mine and held on to me as if he needed me to survive.
“What about my momma? She’ll be alone if I play.”
“Is there someone you can ask to stay with her during the game? Someone she trusts?” I asked him.
He lifted his head. “Your aunt.”
Aunt Coralee would be there in a second if he’d only ask. Brady would want her there. He wanted to do something to help. If he thought his momma missing his game to go sit with West’s mother would help, he’d want that.
“Ask her. She wants to help. Brady wants to help. Let them. If anything were to happen, I’d have her text me immediately, and I’d be on that field to get you.”
West’s eyes had dried up and he nodded, his jaw clenched, as if he were fighting the urge to scream. I knew how that felt. I had actually screamed, though. I hadn’t been able to control myself when I was faced with my mother’s death.
“You’re much stronger than you think,” I told him.
He pulled me closer to him then bent his head and kissed the top of mine. It wasn’t what I daydreamed about, but it was what I had. And I cherished it.
“Thank you,” he said as his arms wrapped around me and held me against him. I wanted to sigh and sink into him, but that was not what this was. He was simply looking for comfort. And I would give him that.
“You’re welcome,” I replied against his chest.
We stood there for a few more moments before he stepped back and let his hands fall away from me. I felt cold without them. I wondered if he felt the same. Did I give him warmth the way he did me?
“I want you to meet my mom. She’d like you,” he said as a small tired smile touched his lips. He was emotionally drained. This was exhausting him. I wondered if he slept at night.
“I’d like that. She sounds like an amazing woman.”
He nodded. “She is.”
The noise from the pep rally started up, and we heard the muted sounds of the school cheering.
“You’d better get in there,” I said, hoping he wasn’t in trouble for being late.
“I’m not going. I told Coach I had to go home and check on my dad. Boone told Coach about Dad this week. I didn’t want him to know, but Boone was right that he needed to know. Now I can leave without having to explain myself and miss things like pep rallies without getting in trouble.”
My uncle would be there when the time came, when West needed a father figure. I was thankful he had that. Uncle Boone was a good man. My mother had adored him. She’d talked about her big brother often. And they had the same eyes and the same smile. When Jorie had said she wanted me to go live with him, I’d hoped I would feel closer to my mother just by being near him. And I did.
“You want to go with me? Can you leave?” he asked me.
“Leave?” I wasn’t sure I heard him right.
He nodded. “Yeah. Go home and meet my mom. Maybe if my dad’s awake, you can meet him too. I mean if you’re okay with seeing him. He looks . . . bad.”
I would go see anyone this boy wanted me to.
“I’d like that.”
His smile was the kind of smile that was so rare, you wanted to keep it. It made you sit around and think of things to do just to get that smile flashed at you. When his eyes were genuinely in it and he truly meant it, there was nothing that compared to West Ashby’s smile.
