by Hazel Grace
And I can’t have that.
She deserves someone who will put her first, not second like I would. I’ve worked too hard, studied tapes and games of professional pitchers and how they handle the ball. I’ve been a stickler on my grades so it wouldn’t be an obstacle of getting into one of my dream colleges.
She’s a roadblock. A blaring red stop sign that is telling me to cease any more communication with her because it’s going to screw and fuck with my head more than it is now.
Sawyer is not a bad person, she’d never hold me back, I don’t think, but why start something when it’d be long distance anyways? I’d see her holidays, breaks, and over the summer. I’d be a jealous asshole wondering if some other guy is macking up on her or if she wants to go to a party, I’ll ask how many guys tried talking to her. It would break us up, my jealousy, her naivety, I wouldn’t be able to deal with it.
“Good,” Sawyer comments, shifting her weight to one leg. “Hey, I was wondering if...“ She stops, bowing her head toward the floor, squirming with the hem of her shirt.
I still don’t know why she’s nervous with me when she has some sort of invisible power that draws me toward her.
Geezus, I’ve only shown and made stupid ass comments to her all the time about it.
“You were wondering what?” I ask. She pries her head back up to look at me, green eyes bright and magical, lips round and lush. I stifle a groan and readjust my own stance to try to hide my growing cock.
“If you wanted to go to the Mardi Gras picnic with me.”
Geezus, why does this town have to celebrate the stupidest shit imaginable?
You think Mardi Gras and imagine beads, tits, liquor, and a huge party, but no, not here. Freemont is family oriented. Use that mindset and you’d see bubbles, twenty BBQs lined up next to each other, moms yelling at their kids for running in the way of everything while they guard the beer coolers to keep us teens from snatching one. Then envision that said party with gossip and you got a Freemont event.
My jaw twitches because I wasn’t planning on going, like ever, but her pleading eyes start to tell the angel on my shoulder that it’d be a great fucking idea.
I’d get to hang out with her.
Steal a few kisses.
Hide her away somewhere so I can lose myself in her hair and body and keep our moments just ours.
But the devil, well, he’s a tad bit louder. He’s always been.
Why settle when there are a million girls at college that just want to fuck and leave?
Sawyer isn’t looking for a simple summer hookup but a romance. I can’t be that for her.
“Ehh...sorry, Bases, can’t...I got some stuff going on.” I hate the look of defeat that graces her face. It took guts for her to ask me, and I just shot her down with a vague answer. But I didn’t ask for her to date me, I mean, I did before, but I stopped. Because I could not date Sawyer Boyd.
No way. No how.
“Oh okay,” Sawyer quickly replies. “That’s alright.”
“So, I gotta—”
“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” she interjects. “It’s...been on my mind.”
I have an inkling I know what she’s talking about; that kiss at my baseball game.
It’s been on repeat in my head, the sweetness of her lips, her innocent and snarky little mouth.
She wants me.
I want her.
But I want my career and dream too, and I can’t balance the two. I’m not able to let my dad down and stay in this town for a girl who hasn’t even been here a year, let alone my girlfriend. Who dated my ex-best friend after being warned by myself and Taylor that she shouldn’t.
What would she do to me? She could leave me in a year for something she wanted to do, and I’d be stuck here. She could find someone who wasn’t such an asshole and tell me she doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.
There are too many what-ifs and howevers, that I don’t even want to sift or deal with them all.
I know what her lips taste like, and I still want more. I crave her gasps and soft moans. I seek everything that she has to offer me because I know it’d be so much different than what I’m used to.
But would that even be enough? Would I resent her for making me stay while I watch a baseball game and think it should’ve been me on that mound.
I’d get over her, I’d have to.
I stand in front of Sawyer like a stone statue and wait for her to continue. But she doesn’t. She blinks and bats her long eyelashes at me, tugging me deeper into what is Sawyer Boyd and her lovely and appealing nature.
“Have you thought about it?” she presses, picking at the cuticle on her fingernail.
This used to be so easy for me. I would and could blow a chick off in two point five seconds and not give two fucks about it. It wouldn’t even be an afterthought.
But, fuck me, it’s Sawyer.
The girl I’ve been secretly pining over for weeks upon months, fantasizing about what it would be like for her to be completely mine. To own her and be with her. What it’d be like to just be together without prying eyes, where I could learn her deepest and darkest secrets. To learn about everything that makes her tick.
“Of course, I’ve thought about it,” I affirm, clutching the fabric inside my pants.
“And that’s it?” Her brows furrow, she’s frowning again, and I want to punch myself in the dick for not being able to do this.
“What would you like me to say, Bases?”
Her lips part, inviting, tantalizing, and surprised. “Um...nothing, nevermind.” She averts her gaze, looking for a way out like I was just moments ago. “I’ll just see you around.” She begins to turn on her heel, but my body reacts by grasping her forearm and keeping her facing me.
“Listen,” I convey softly. “I have a lot of pressure on me right now. I’m sorry I haven’t been...I’m just stressed out.”
She bobs her head. “I get it.” I search her face for a front, but I’ve always had a difficult time reading her sometimes.
“You know I’d love to hang out with you,” I continue. “I just need to be on my A game for Friday. This is huge for me, I can’t lose this.”
She bows her head and covers her hand over mine resting on her forearm. Her thumb caresses my index finger, sending tingles straight up my spine and down my cock.
I live for these small moments with her. I look forward to them and our arguments. I love how her face flushes in embarrassment because I just said something that made her uncomfortable and hot.
But not like this.
She’s distressed and puzzled, not knowing what to make of me, of us. I’ve sent her mixed signals, I got wrapped up and tangled into our connection where I’m fucking it up.
“I truly get it,” she whispers. “Just text me when you can.”
“Might be a few days.” She swallows, regret all mixed into one ‘she’ll never do it again’ look written all over her face.
I don’t blame her, I wouldn’t fuck with me either.
Ten years ago
I brushed Colson’s rejection off with the simple fact of ‘it’s for the best.’ A moment of weakness really, we both knew what we wanted. Him, a baseball career out of Freemont, and me, a simple life without getting screwed over by the boy of the day who hits it and quits it.
So, maybe I read his dad’s ring wrong.
It must’ve been an olive branch of friendship and not him showing me that he wanted to slowly enter into my life with trust building in that said relationship. The one I must’ve totally made up in my stupid, naive head.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
So to prove to myself that I am, I’m standing here alone, observing the Mardi Gras picnic and how hardcore this town is. Everything is decorated in purple, green, and gold; plates, balloons, streamers hung between trees, kids with masks running around, and some dads wearing them too.
Weird.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t going to s
tay cooped up in my house, listening to Skylar complain about wanting to go to the mall and Mom consoling her. Two seperate headaches right there.
I text Taylor to see if she’s here yet, we promised each other that we’d eat a bunch of carbs and hang out since there were no good movies playing at the small theater in town. Until it all comes barrelling down on me like a meteor storm.
Colson Hayes is making out with a brunette against one of the oak trees behind the food table.
Super adorable and convenient.
Not only do I lose my appetite, but my stomach twists in response when his mouth opens to insert his tongue in her mouth. So slowly, seductively, that I feel like their swapping saliva is going to contaminate all the poor food.
Because that’s what’s important, right?
I shouldn’t be at all surprised. I’ve been saying it since the very beginning, no Colson Hayes in my near future. I reach into my pocket, feeling stupid that I have his ring burning a hole there.
I don’t want it.
Fuck his trust.
And screw him.
My phone buzzes in my hand, looking down, Taylor says she’ll be there in about thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes.
I can’t be solo here for that long, especially when I’m having a mini breakdown in the middle of kids blowing bubbles.
Inhaling a deep breath, I take two to calm my rattled nerves, repeating in my head that I am collected and cool as a cucumber.
That’s pending the moment before his hands wrap around her waist and tug her closer.
My strides aren’t planned, nor calculated, as I close the distance between me and the seriousness he beckoned of wanting to give him my trust.
A piece of me.
I know I’ve said it before, and you’re going to hear me say it again, I’m done.
I don't know what this ring was supposed to prove. Were we going to talk about boys and the latest movies that were coming out? Did he want to know that I hate grape jelly and my mom’s meatloaf but I’m too nice to tell her? That I have a scar on my ankle from getting it caught at the bottom of a fence when I was ten?
I scoff, yeah, I’m good without all that. I don’t need another friend. Especially one who thinks he can trap and drag me down hallways, taunt me in the middle of class, eye fuck me during practice, and tell me to give him a chance.
A. Chance. For. Fucking. What?
“Hey Colson,” I chime with his back facing me, keeping a cool tone to my voice. “Wanted to give you this back.”
Slowly, he turns around, his face weary already before I even sputter another word.
He knew I’d probably be here.
I told him.
I hold his ring by my thumb and index finger and extend it toward him. His eyes drift to the item then come back up to my face, emotionless, which only fuels my irritation.
“What’s this?” he asks, raising a brow.
I’m seconds away from chucking it at his face, but instead, I calmly say, “Your ring.”
“I know what it is, just why are you giving it back to me?”
Why. Am. I. Giving. It. Back. To. You?
Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’ve only followed me around school for, like, ever, and wanted me to give you a chance.
Chance blown.
“I don’t want it,” I deadpan.
“I gave it to you.”
“I think we got our signals mixed up when I took it,” I assert. “It’s not what I thought it was.”
“And that was?” I clench my teeth together at his monotonic tone.
He’s making me feel like a fool, and I’ve already been doing a good enough job on my own. If he thinks I’m going to verbally announce it when he has another girl patiently standing behind him waiting to make out with him some more, he’s misguided.
“Take the ring, Hayes.”
“Keep the ring, Bases.”
I force a smile, disguising the simple fact that this isn’t something when it’s everything. I kissed him on our “hang out” and let him kiss me back at his game, and that’s what this all was.
A fucking game.
He got what he wanted, and I’m reaping the rewards of being ashamed and flustered. But, alas, this time, I did it to my damn self.
Without a second thought, I drop the ring that’s scalding my skin, not giving a solid shit if it gets lost or swallowed up by the devil himself for being such an evil and manipulative human being. It means nothing to me, not anymore, it was just another ploy to get into my world and mess with it.
Turning around, I march away, needing space and a place far enough away for Taylor to find me without having to look at Colson again. I’m careful not to trip over kids, smile at people that say hello to me, but I feel those hot tears blazing behind my eyeballs. I won’t let them fall because it’ll be an external sign that he affects me.
He won’t get to me that deep. I’m better and stronger than him.
Clearing most of the crowd, the air feels lighter but before I can inhale, I’m whipped around by my arm.
“What the fuck was that?” Colson’s voice seethes in front of me, and I can’t even see the look on his face because he’s congesting my space.
I step away. “Get away from me, Colson. And don’t touch me.”
“I gave you that,” he continues, ignoring the fact that I just treaded away. “You don’t just get to surprise me and toss it on the fucking ground.”
“I didn’t toss it,” I counter with furrowed brows. “I dropped it.”
“Same difference.”
“Who fucking cares?” I snap, throwing my hands in the air. “Quit following me and go back to your fuck buddy.”
“Fuck...buddy,” he repeats slowly. “I never—”
“I don’t care, Hayes. All you should be caring about is your balls ending up in your throat if you don’t get away from me. I’m done with you and your stupid little games.”
“I’m not playing games,” he fumes, narrowing his eyes. “I’m—”
I cross my arms. “You’re what? Resuscitating that girl? You’re doing a sloppy job.”
“Let me talk and quit cutting me off.” His eyes are glaring at me, a line between his brows puckers his skin, and I don’t give a shit.
“But that’s what I’m doing,” I fume. “I’m cutting you off. From my life, my phone, from ever having another conversation like this with you again. Consider this—” I wave my hand in between us “—extinct.”
“I gave you that ring because I wanted to—at the time, I wanted to show you that I was serious about you seeing me exclusively.”
I loom closer to him, making sure he completely understands my next words. “I told you, I don’t want to date, especially you. I’m surprised you haven’t been cut off from the whole male population because you give them a bad name.”
“You got a pretty big mouth today, Bases,” Colson glowers over me. “Anything else you wanna say?”
“Nope!” I pop my “p” to further my point and unattached feelings on the matter. “Take care.” I begin to turn, but he touches me again, whipping me toward him.
“Good,” he sneers. “My turn.”
I yank myself out of his grasp. “I thought I said—”
“Shut up, Bases, and listen. I can’t give you what you need. I have scouts coming to check me out, possibly offer me a full ride out of this shitty ass town, and I can’t have you bawling your eyes out when I leave. I won’t make a decision based off you, I’ll do what’s best for me. You can’t and won’t be part of the equation. When I gave you that ring, it was because I wanted to get to know you better and see why you fascinate me so much. I don’t like it, really and truly, I despise it. And it wasn’t meant to hurt you, but after Coach pulled me into his office the other day, I knew that we could never become anything more than friends.”
I suck in a stuttered breath. I understand his words, but I hate them. I loathe how I let myself think something and my hopes we
nt skyward when they had no right to.
He was right, and I couldn’t be mad at him, but I am. The ring meant something to me, and I took it in good faith. Just for that faith to be stomped in the ground with his tongue down his new friend’s throat. I could’ve gone without the slap in the face.
“I get it,” I tell him, lifting my chin. “You really don’t have to say anymore. Thank you for the gesture, I know it was new for you to do something like that. But we’re on the same page now, so we don’t have to say anything else.”
His lips set in a fine line before he says, “Then why are you crying?” A tear hits my cheekbone, and I quickly wipe it away.
“You’re exhausting, Hayes,” I lie. “And I have really bad allergies.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, I’m allergic to bullshit. So try again.”
I tsk. “Pass.”
“Bases,” he voices softly. “I wish it were different.”
“You’re fine, seriously.” I take a step away from him. “Just, if you have something to tell me, don’t go kissing girls to—”
“Forget you,” he cuts in. “I was with her because I needed to forget wanting and thinking about you.”
I scoff. “You’re fucking kidding, right?”
“You seriously don’t get it,” he storms. “You consume my thoughts, so much so that I don’t look at anyone anymore.” He articulates his words like it’s the most inconvenient thing he’s ever had to deal with, and I can relate.
Every single one of his words hit home right to a tee.
“Look at whomever you need to,” I reply, tucking my hands into the pouch of my sweatshirt. “And I’ll continue to do my thing.”
He perks a brow. “Which is what, sitting at home and moping around?”
I grin. “Sure.”
He shrugs. “Good, it’ll just keep you out of my hair.”
“And you from threatening me or someone else I’m talking to.” His jaw locks in place, and I didn’t think his eyes could slit more than they already are right now. I’m surprised he can still see me.
“Like who?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I convey. “We’re just friends.”