by Staci Hart
He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Fine.” The word was flat. It would be good to work, to sweat, to forget for a minute, at least. I turned and headed to my bedroom.
West turned to Patrick. “See? Told you I could get him to go.”
I rolled my eyes and walked into my closet to change into a tank and basketball shorts, grabbing my shoes on the way out. West looked pleased with himself as I sat down and pulled one on.
“Don’t look so smug.” I tied my laces.
“Why not? You’ll feel better.”
“Maybe I want to be miserable.” I shoved my foot into the other shoe.
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of pathetic.”
I pulled the knot tight. “Thanks.”
“I’m just sayin’. Mopey Cooper is pretty fucking boring.”
“Sorry I can’t be the clown right now, but you’re a great second-string.” I grabbed my bag out of the hall closet and switched out the towel.
“I aim to please.”
I made my way through the kitchen, packing water and a protein bar. “Have you talked to her?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t answer right away. “Yeah.”
I zipped up my bag with my eyes down. “Is she all right?”
“She will be.”
I finally looked at him. “You’re not going to tell me anything?”
“I don’t know all that much, and if I did, do you really want to know?”
“I don’t know. Do I?”
West shook his head. “Why torture yourself?”
“I just want to know what’s going on with her.”
“She’s at home, and she’s trying to get her head together. That’s really all I can say.”
My eyes narrowed. “Did she tell you not to talk to me?”
He put up a hand. “No. I mean that’s all I know.”
I rubbed my face, pressed my fingers into my eye sockets. “I’m sorry. I just … it’s driving me crazy. I don’t know what to do.”
“I think getting out of the house is step one.”
I almost smiled. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Oh, I’m definitely right. Can we go now? Because my whole plan revolved around us not talking about your feelings.”
That one got me. I cracked a smile. “All right, fine. And get ready, Stretch, because I’ve got the fire in my belly to beat you on the court.”
Patrick snorted. “As if that’s enough to take down the giant.”
I felt a little better as we left the building, though the weight of everything pressed down on me like the clouds that hung over us, the air heavy, charged with the smell of rain. I focused my thoughts on the walk to the courts, the laughter of my friends, our feet against the damp pavement.
We set down our bags at the bench, and West and I went first. I was sweating within minutes, my mind devoid of any thoughts outside of the game. The thump of the ball against the pavement. The shuffle of our feet. Our huffing breath. I shot and missed. I shot and made it. I juked and dribbled around West, my focus tight.
The rain began to fall just hard enough to make things interesting, and I tightened my concentration so I could hang on to the ball, hang on to my footing.
I shot again and made it, and West hung his hands on his hips, huffing.
“Your game, Coop.”
I dribbled and shook my head, not even realizing the game was over. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d beaten West. I barely cared. Just dribbled between my legs, not wanting to lose the focus that I’d found, like I’d mainlined willpower. I shot the ball, and it passed through the hoop without touching the rim.
West and Patrick shared a look.
“No gloating?” West asked. “You even find a way to gloat when you lose.”
I grabbed the ball and dribbled some more. “Tricky, you’re up.”
West watched me as he took the bench and Tricky took his place. I tossed him the ball, and he checked it back to me. And then, I took off.
I was up and down the court, silent as we played. I could feel their worry, the expectations pressing on me from them. From Maggie. The public. My parents. From myself. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that expectation had been crushing me for my whole life.
I’d built my own cage by believing the expectations were my truth, by giving them power. And I realized that I held the power to break free. I realized I had the strength to let go.
Patrick was all over me, the game more intense with every beat of the ball. I body checked him and spun away to shoot. I made it.
Patrick panted. “Game.”
My lungs burned, chest heaving as sweat and rain rolled down my face. I bent, hands on my knees, staring at the blacktop before closing my eyes.
“Coop …” It was West, and I looked up to find him and Patrick in front of me with their eyes full of sorrow.
I shook my head and looked back at the ground. I’d burned the fog down, and I could see my future. I understood for the first time what it all meant, and I knew exactly what to do.
There were two things I realized in that moment of clarity.
I had to find a way to let Maggie go, and I needed to do everything I could to be the man she deserved. And I could do it. I could be everything for her, if she came back to me.
If she didn’t, if she couldn’t fix herself, I would fix myself in the hopes that maybe, someday, I would get another chance.
22
SPLIT
Maggie
IT WAS JUST AFTER DUSK, and the sky was bathed in purples and indigo as the sun slipped away. The lights were off in my room, and I sat curled up in my window seat with my eyes on the big maple tree just beyond. I’d watched the tree grow from a sapling to a behemoth, climbed its branches as a girl, kissed Jimmy goodbye under them when I grew up.
I’d spent my Monday working on plans for Susan, and based on her response, I knew I’d need to make a decision soon about what I was going to do.
It was the question everyone wanted the answer to, one of the many I didn’t have.
I felt split in two, and the parts of me hadn’t yet mended together. No, it wasn’t even that. When Old Maggie and New Maggie smashed into each other, New Maggie was obliterated. Gone. And Old Maggie was left fractured from the impact. But every day I felt a little more together. A little bit closer. I just didn’t know what I was getting closer to.
Closure, I supposed, that magical land I’d find when I was whole again.
It didn’t help that my days were long and quiet, filled with reading and Netflix and my thoughts. Brooke was really the only person I’d seen besides Courtney — I’d avoided going out in public at all costs after I saw her, even though I was glad I did. If every day was a step toward closure, seeing Courtney was a long jump.
Every time I picked up my phone, I thought about calling Cooper. Texting him. Anything. I wanted to know if he was out there and missing me like I was missing him.
I sighed and pulled my blanket up a little higher.
I heard the rumble of his car before I saw it — it was a sound I didn’t even realize I knew. But every nerve fired at once in a shock that sent ice down my spine.
Jimmy pulled into the driveway, and when he stepped out of his car, when I saw him — the angle of his jaw, the curve of his shoulders — I couldn’t breathe. When he looked up at my window and our eyes met, I felt like I’d been shot.
My heart kickstarted in a jolt, and I spun out of my room and down the stairs. Dad was already opening the door, and I stopped dead.
Jimmy stood on the porch, tall and dark with his hair a little too long and a little too messy, eyes sad. A hundred memories with him flashed through my mind in a breath.
“Is she here, Luke?”
Dad’s jaw flexed, eyes narrowed, but he glanced back at me for approval. I nodded, and he moved out of the way. He looked down at me as I approached.
“You just call if you need me.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
<
br /> He shot a last look at Jimmy, and when I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me, we were alone for the first time in a long time. I didn’t know what to say, standing so close to him after so much had happened. I could smell him, the familiar smell of the boy who I’d shared a thousand nights with. But he wasn’t the same. He was split in two, just like me. The boy I thought I knew and the man standing in front of me.
He shifted, his eyes soft. “I … I’ve missed you.”
I needed something to do with my hands and clasped them behind my back, squeezing them until they almost hurt. “What do you want, Jimmy?”
“I heard you were back. I had to see for myself if it was true.”
“Here I am,” I said simply.
“Did you get my letter?”
“I did.”
He watched me. “There has to be a chance for us, Maggie.”
“You ruined that chance on our wedding day.”
“I’ve loved you ever since I knew what love was. There was a moment when I realized that I loved you, that I was meant to be with you. Did you know?” The words were gentle. He reached for my arm — my left arm — and I let go of my fingers. His big hand slipped down my forearm, to my wrist, and he held my fingers, his thumb running over the place where my ring had once been. “It was just after a game we’d won, the one against Cary, sophomore year. Do you remember?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“After they took out Ben, Coach put me in to quarterback the end of the game. I’d never been so scared in my life, never wanted to prove my worth so much. I threw that touchdown, and we won. And afterward, when I was standing at the sidelines, covered in sweat, you ran up to me, jumped into my arms. Kissed me and cried and told me you loved me. And I knew right then that I wanted you to be a part of every joy in my life.”
“Jimmy—” The word seared my throat.
“I’ve always loved you, Maggie. I just didn’t know what that meant until you left me.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry it took you so long to figure that out.”
“So am I. You’ve always been a part of my life. Always. Without you here, I can’t find my footing. I don’t know who I am without you. I love you.”
Tears burned the corners of my eyes. “But that’s not how love works. If you loved me, you never would have considered sleeping with someone else, never mind sleeping with everyone else. Love is about respect. It’s about acceptance and protection. Trust. But you disrespected me. You rejected me when you slept with every one of those girls, and that crushed me, ruined me. I will never trust you again.” My hand slipped out of his.
“None of them meant anything to me. None of them compared to you.”
“Then why? Why would you do this to me?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I don’t have any excuses to give, only apologies. Only the promise that I would never do it again.”
“How could I ever trust you again? What you did can’t be undone.”
“There has to be a way to prove it to you. To make you believe.”
Cooper flashed through my mind, and I looked over the boy I used to love, thinking about the man who I left in New York, the differences between the two sharp and stark. They were nothing alike, that was all of a sudden so clear, it was blinding. “You shouldn’t have to prove anything, Jimmy. It should be undeniably clear in every action you take, in every choice you make. I should never even consider doubting you because the truth is plain and simple. And your truth is plain and simple, it’s just not the one you’d have me believe. You never loved me. You loved the idea of me. You got down on one knee and asked a specter to marry you.”
His brow knit together, his eyes shining. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I’ll do anything.”
“You already did enough. I don’t have anything left to give you. You took it all — took so much that you’ve left me empty. I have nothing left to give anyone because of you, because of what you’ve done. I should have seen it. I should have known. But I believed you, and you made a fool of me in front of everyone I’ve ever known.”
“But there has to be a way for me to make it right.”
The answer was clear. “There is. Let me go. Let me go, and leave me be. You can’t claim me. You say you’re sorry, that you don’t want to hurt me, but every time you do this, you hurt me all over again. Every single time I think I’m patched together, you come back along and blow me back up.”
His jaw was set, face tight with emotion. “Change your mind,” he said softly.
“I can’t. I won’t. I’m not yours anymore.”
His eyes searched my face for a long moment, and I saw him recognize the truth in it. “I understand. Maggie, I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
It was goodbye. Relief and sadness washed over me, and when he reached for me, I stepped into his arms, curled into his chest, felt my heart let go of him.
I was instantly overwhelmed by the proximity, by my emotions, and the tears fell, my shoulders shuddering as I tried to hold back sobs. One of his hands was in my hair, clutching me to his chest, and after a moment, I pulled away, needing to get away from him. But when I looked up at him, his eyes were on my lips. I held my breath, frozen to the spot, hoping to God he wasn’t about to do what I thought he was about to do.
He leaned down, and the second it was clear that he was trying to kiss me, my arms shot out, pushing him away.
“Goddammit, Jimmy.” My voice cracked, tears slipping down my face. “You didn’t listen to one fucking thing I said. You don’t get to kiss me. You don’t get to stand on my porch and remind me of what I never had to begin with. It’s over. I want you to hear me right now. It’s over.” The chains around my heart fell away with every word. “I don’t love you. I don’t want you. I will never be with you. And you will leave me be. Do you understand?”
“Do I have a choice?” He was hurt, and I didn’t care.
“None. If you ever loved me, let me go. Move on. Let me do the same. Please.”
He took a deep breath. “If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
“Well, if you do, I’ll be around. I loved you, Maggie. I still do, and I probably always will. It wasn’t your fault, what I did. It was … I don’t know. My own issues. Something inside of me is broken, but that isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just need you to walk away with that.”
I nodded. It was all I could manage.
He watched me for a moment longer, like he was trying to memorize me, and then he walked away.
My entire body trembled as I turned and opened the door, stepped into the entryway, closed the door behind me, feeling exhausted, spent.
My parents were in the kitchen, trying to look inconspicuous — Mom moving things around on the counter, Dad pretending to read at the island. I dragged myself into the room.
Dad looked up from his tablet, his comforting smile not able to disguise his worry. “Shotgun’s just in there, if you want me to grab it.” He jerked his head toward the office.
I chuckled, not realizing I had it in me. “I think I got it.” I took a seat next to him at the bar. “Have a bourbon with me?”
“Without a doubt.” He started to get up, but Mom waved him off.
“I’ve got it.” She reached for glasses. “Wanna talk about it?”
I took a breath. “I think it’s over.”
Dad smirked. “You mean it hasn’t been over for months?”
I rested my arms on the cool granite. “I mean, I think I’ve convinced him to stay away.”
“How’d you manage that?” Mom asked as she handed us each a drink.
“I unloaded all my truth on him. I think he really believed he could just patch everything up with a little bit of time and a sentimental gesture. I get the feeling he didn’t think I was serious when I left. As if the several thousand miles between us was temporary.”
“In fairness,” Mom said, “you did come back within a few weeks.”<
br />
“Only because …” I took a breath and shook my head. “Everything just got so complicated.”
Dad picked up his drink and brought it to his lips. “And did coming back here make it less complicated?”
I took a sip, the taste familiar, comforting. “Nope. But I just faced my biggest fear. All this time, especially after Jimmy sent that horrible box, I wondered if he would convince me to forgive him. Worried that I’d see him and forget what he did. That thought scared me more than anything, but I didn’t forget. I won’t. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”
Dad raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
And we raised our glasses to his, clinked them together. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt like everything might eventually be all right.
23
RASPBERRY CHIP
Cooper
I STEPPED OUT OF THE elevator on my father’s floor that Tuesday morning, hands in the pockets of my slacks. The girl at the wide desk did a double take when she saw me, straightening up in her seat with a smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Moore. Your assistant called and said you’d be coming by. Your father is held up in a meeting, but he told me to send you on back to his office.”
I shot her The Smile as I walked past. “Thanks.”
I was back.
There were things in my life I could control, and I was ready to pour myself into them. I was ready for change.
I walked through the building, past cubicles and offices that grew exceedingly bigger, leading up to the room at the end of the hall. I opened the door and stepped into my father’s office. The space was bigger than most apartments in New York, with floor-to-ceiling windows around three of the four walls, located in the center of Midtown. I stood for a long moment next to his desk, looking into the city, my eyes following the lines of the buildings, windows, the streets below.
I’d spent most of my life wondering what it was all for. When you’re given everything, every opportunity, every whim, why would you work for anything? How could I decide what to do with my life when there was no need to do anything with it? I had no place in the world, not with the friends I’d had growing up, not even with the Habits crew, as much as I wanted to be a part of their world. I was hanging in limbo.