by Emilia Finn
Thankfully, neither can I.
I step onto my toes and wrap my arms around his neck for one fast kiss, but I drop back to flat feet when Bean gags all over again and sticks her finger into her mouth like she thinks she’s funny.
“Morning,” I say to him.
“Morning.” He presses one more kiss to my jaw. It’s dry and fast, but I need it as much as he does. “You’re late. Sleep in?”
“Nah, I watched this dude Danny spar first. Biggie wanted my opinion.”
“And?” Mac drags a chair across the mats and drops down. He’s not as strong as he’d have us believe. He can’t stand for excessive amounts of time before he needs to rest. “Is he in?”
“Yeah, I think he’s good. It’s not always about strength. Sometimes we need to see a dude’s heart first.” I smile for Mac, because although I’m not talking about him, the sentiment remains the same. “Danny is hungry for victory. He’s good, he can be better, and he’s willing to work for it. He has someone back home he needs to win for.” I grin when Ben’s lips drop to the warm skin behind my ear. He’s fast, he refuses to be caught, but he still feels the need to show me his love. “We’ll fly his girl out too. Show him what it’s like to fight with her right there.”
Leaving Ben’s arms, I walk across the room to collect a pair of grappling gloves from the shelves lining the walls. Most people have their own, but we have buckets of stinky gloves for people to borrow if they haven’t got their own yet. Fortunately for me, three months away or three years, my pair sits exactly where I left them in September.
I pull them on and shed my hoodie as I move. “I’m calling dibs. He’s my champion. I want the fifteen percent when he wins his millions.”
“You’ve got your own titles to win yet.” Moving slowly, Mac makes his way out of the chair and sheds his hoodie too. He tosses his hat to the floor, drops his hoodie on top, and after a moment of thought, he pulls his tank off and reveals a long scar that stretches from his solar plexus up to just an inch or so below where his collarbones join. The scar is still pink and puckered. Eventually, the scarring will become a little smoother, but not yet. Not for a while. “Three by three?”
“Three rounds, three minutes?” I nod and open the cage so he can follow me in. “You set the pace, and I’ll make you sweat.”
“I wanna go hard. Make it hurt.” He stops in front of me as Ben closes the door. “But… like… don’t hit me blunt force in the chest.” His hands shake. So does his voice. “I’m feeling strong and all that, but–”
“I got it.” I turn to Ben and silently ask for the timer. I slide my mouthguard past my lips, and vow to never make a big deal about Mac and his fighting abilities.
He’s good.
He’s great, to be honest. And he’ll get it back one day.
From here on out, his recovery has nothing to do with his body, and everything to do with his mental strength.
Ben
Time Goes Too Fast
Two weeks, when she’s gone, feels like an eternity. But two weeks when she’s home somehow flies by at the speed of light.
My fight has been and gone, and felt like a non-event in comparison to Evie’s return home. Christmas passed us, and New Year’s zoomed on by without the kiss at midnight, since her father would kill me for sneaking through her window in the middle of the night.
After only three days off, I had to go back to work – work being the gym – which meant not as much free time to sneak down to the springs with Evie. We still went, of course. We were together as much as we used to be, but it was spent in the gym, where everyone could see us the whole time, which meant sparring, but not touching. Grappling, but not kissing.
It doesn’t make me bitter, though. Without that gym, I wouldn’t know her at all. So I take my lumps, I meet the male members of her family in the ring for what they call ‘coaching sessions,’ but we all know is something else. They test me, they work me to exhaustion, and they fuck with my head, just to make sure I’m strong enough for her.
My time with Evie comes to an end much too soon, and because her family is so tight, I don’t get to impose on her final trip to the airport. The gate goodbyes are for her and Aiden. Eventually they’ll be mine, but not yet. Not for a while. And by then, she’ll be finished with college and back home anyway.
She’ll be twenty-one when she’s back for good, perhaps twenty-two, if she needs a little extra help with her classes. And by then, we won’t be children in her parents’ eyes. That’s when life will really begin for us. That’s when I get her in my home, in my bed.
“Call me when you land?” I sneak a kiss while we stand on the porch at the back of her house. Everyone knows we’re out here, of course, but we’re allowed privacy to say goodbye. “Call me as soon as you’re on the ground.”
“I will.” Her bottom lip quivers with sadness. It’s going to be months before we see each other again. “And then I’ll call tonight.”
“Back to classes tomorrow?”
She nods. “Stupid classes that don’t even make sense. I was supposed to do a paper over the break too.”
“Evie,” I mock-chastise her. “You didn’t mention it.”
“I didn’t wanna,” she pouts. “I was home, I didn’t want to think about college shit.”
We stand face to face, chest to chest, so her sweet breath bathes my chin, and her fingers twine with mine in a desperate plea to never let go.
“What’s the paper on?” I ask.
“Market elasticity.” She literally trembles, as though the words scare her. “As if I know what that means. Sounds like someone got gum stuck to the bottom of their shoes.”
“I’ll help you tonight.” I pull her in and press a kiss to her jaw. “It just means I get to video call you all afternoon, and make out like I’m helping you, rather than creeping.”
“Such a creep,” she snickers. “I’ll call you the second I land. And I’ll email the question for my paper before I take off. That’ll give you a couple hours to think it through. You’re so smart.” She steps in and wraps her arms around my stomach. “I wish I was as smart as you.”
I was never particularly gifted at school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t know the things she needs help with. Good grades were never a motivator to me. Promises of ice-cream dates; nope. Camping trips; nope. A pat on the shoulder and an attaboy; nope. But then I happen across Evie doing her homework at the gym, and I figured out something no one else had.
She’s too damn proud to ever admit she’s struggling, but best friends see things parents sometimes miss. Dyslexia, but with numbers. She’s not dumb, she has a genuine disadvantage.
And suddenly, I had my motivation. My grades rose just as steadily as hers, because together, we worked hard and unraveled the strings of bullshit that balled in her brain. To be able to teach her, I needed to understand it. To understand it, I needed to study twice as hard and apply myself to something that had never been important to me before that.
“You gonna watch my fight in May?” I reach up and brush back a single curl that constantly dangles in her eyes. “I need you to be there.”
“I will. I’ll have the pay-per-view, and if I see you mess up your footing, I’ll fly out and smack you down. Don’t fuck it up, Conner. We’ve worked too hard for you to go all Sasquatch and get clumsy.”
I bend my neck and lean closer. Closer. Closer, until my lips touch the top edge of her ear. “I love you.”
Her breath shudders out so fast, it forms a knot in my throat. “I love you, too. I’ll see you in July.”
So fucking far away.
I leave the Kincaid estate when Evie’s car rolls out of the driveway with her, Aiden, Tina, and her two sisters in it.
They keep these things private; airport gate goodbyes are just for them. But for the hours leading up to that, Evie is passed from one set of arms to the next. Her uncles, her aunts, her cousins, and especially Bean. Mac got his snuggle time in, and Ma dropped by with a bunch of home-baked snac
ks for her to take back to school. Mom and Oz knew she was heading out today – of course they knew. Their kid is in love with the girl who is leaving town – but once the gates close and she’s gone, the world goes silent.
The Kincaids go back into their homes. They walk away with slumped shoulders and expressions of dejection. They go back to their lives, and count down the minutes until she’s home again.
Just like I do.
Evie is the fabric this family weaves around. She’s the anchor we all so desperately need, and I’m not sure anyone realized she was that for us until she was gone. They made out that her silliness and trouble-making was exhausting in a way, but now that it’s gone, they’re desperate to pay bail and get her back.
I drive out of her estate with nothing more than an unenthusiastic wave for anyone still outside to see, and head across town, but I have nowhere to go. Nothing I want to do.
On a normal day when she’s not here, I would go to the gym. It’s my home away from home, but they’re closed down today. The days Evie leaves are days of mourning for everyone. And we’ll all have to live these days for the next three and a half years.
Instead of heading to the gym or home, I make my way to Main Street, and dial Bean and Mac on speaker.
“Yeah?” Mac answers first. “Is she gone?”
“Go away.” Bean’s voice comes second. Much lower. Much sadder. “I don’t wanna play today.”
“You miss your girl,” I murmur. “So do I. Come into town and hang out? We can go to my place and chill.”
“Wanna play cards?” Mac asks. “I’m kinda wrecked today, so no circuits in the yard. But we could play poker or something.”
I pull onto Main Street and slow in front of the bakery that we, as a group, have been in a billion times over the years. I park in the same spot I’ve somehow always managed to get, pull the handbrake, and cut the engine. Resting my elbow on the door, I stare into space and wish for Evie’s return.
Perhaps the school got caught up in a cyclone in the last two weeks, and was eventually bulldozed down. Or perhaps our Podunk town built an Ivy League school while we weren’t watching, and she’s transferring back.
“We can play cards,” I agree. “I have a few hours to kill.”
“Until she calls you,” Bean scoffs. “She calls you before she calls me now. What kinda bullshit is that? She’s been my best friend my entire life. But then you come to town, and suddenly I’m second best?”
“Not second best.” I could tease and say something about being the cooler person in our group. But I don’t have it in me. I’d be heartbroken if she called someone else over me. “We serve different purposes. You’re her girl, Bean. There’s no undoing that.” I pull the keys from the ignition and pick up my phone. “I’m heading into the bakery. What do you guys want?”
“Donuts,” Bean answers without pause. “The sugar kind.”
“No icing?”
“No. They’re too sweet.”
Mac chuckles. “The icing is too sweet, so just get her the kind covered in sugar.”
“Shut your piehole, Blair. Hey, Mom?” I hear her move through her house and stop by a TV. “I’m gonna hang out with Ben and Mac. We’ll be at Oz’s house.”
“Okay. Be back for dinner?”
“Sure. Love you.”
The sounds of the TV get softer and softer as she walks away, but then boots hit a tile floor.
“Bean.” Jimmy Kincaid’s voice is a deep baritone through the phone, and I know Mac is sitting taller to listen on his end. “Love you.”
“Love you too, Daddy.” Clothes rustle as they hug, then they pull apart, and a door opens. “Save me a seat at dinner.”
“Always. You need a ride?”
“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll ride my bike. I’ll be home in a bit.”
“Okay. Sasquatch?”
My heart gives a thump when I realize he’s talking to me. “Yes, sir?”
“Get her home before the sun is down. She’s your responsibility.”
“I got it. I promise.” I step up onto the sidewalk. “I’m heading into the bakery now. I’ll see you guys when you get to my place.”
I hang up when they both agree to leave their homes now, which means I have ten minutes to get to mine before my mom has to host my friends without me.
The heavy bakery door jingles as I push it open, and though the scent of pastries and sugar invades my senses, I stop on the spot when my eyes lock onto a pair of light brown eyes, curtained by neat, brown hair, and my mind shoots back to the friend I had in high school. The friend whose sister was brutally murdered, and turned the shy girl from my science lab into a complete recluse who left the house only to see her therapist.
“Holy… shit. Nora?”
I’m in a daze. Like I’m floating in a haze of shellshock as, an hour after arriving at the bakery, I pull into my driveway and cut the engine to my truck. Bean and Mac’s bikes lay haphazardly on the grass twenty feet from where I park, and shoes pile up at the front door.
They’ve arrived, they’ve let themselves in, and they’ve made themselves at home in my absence. Bean and Livi are good friends – they’re sisters – so it’s not like they have to sit on the couch in awkward silence and wait for me, but still, guilt eats at my belly. I’m running epically late to the meet I asked for.
I snatch up the bakery bags I remembered at the last second to grab, and climb out of the truck. I slam the door shut, and head around the hood to the pathway, and up the front steps of the home Oz had before he met my mom.
He says he was the guy who never wanted to stop being a bachelor, but he had a family home already. He was set up and waiting for us, so once he and my mom began dating, it was a smooth transition for us to move in – according to them.
It was anything but smooth in my eyes.
I thought it was the absolute worst thing that could ever happen to me… and I was the kid that had seen his mom nearly murdered.
Her getting a new man after a decade of it just being the three of us was horrible for me. It was like a sick joke that everyone thought was funny except me.
“Come on.” I speak in gentle tones, make no fast movements, remain calm when I know Nora’s shaking like a leaf in the wind.
I slide my keys into the front door and walk in to find my friends and sister sprawled out on the couch watching a movie.
“Finally! Jesus, Sasquatch.” Mac sits up and glowers. “How long does it take to drive five miles? Seriously.”
Nora steps into my living room behind me, with her hands clasped in front of her, and her eyes down.
“Oh…” Mac clears his throat. “Shit… okay. I get it.”
“You guys remember Nora, right?”
She was in my classes in high school until she dropped out. It was like a light switch. She was there, always in the hallways, in many of my classes, and more often than not, sitting in the seat beside mine. And then she was gone.
Nora had a front row seat to her sister’s brutal death, so it’s not like I can’t understand why she dropped out. But it made me worry.
I might have been in love with Evie since I was fourteen, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have room for Nora as a friend. For that to happen to her, and then for her to disappear for so long… when I’m not going to sleep thinking of Evie, Nora’s face is the one that flashes through my mind.
“Hey, Nora.” Livi is the first to stand, since she knows Nora from one of our many movie nights. Livi loves Evie, of course, but her loyalty doesn’t run as deep as Bean’s. “It’s good to see you again. How have you…” She clears her throat. “Ya know. How have you been?”
“Okay.” Nora’s voice cracks with disuse. “I’ve been fine. Busy. You know how it is.”
“Sure do. The guys came over to play cards. You wanna play too?”
Nora shakes her head in denial, but I nod before she can run off.
“Yeah, she’s gonna chill out with us for a bit. She spends entirely too much time with adu
lts these days, so she needs time to come down off that and hang with us.”
“Welcome back,” Mac stands with a slow grunt. He really is wrecked today, and doing the best he can to stay upright. He steps toward us as though he might be considering giving her a hug or something, but when she backs up, he diverts and snatches the bakery bag from my hand. “Let’s play.”
“Evie’s due to land soon.” Bean walks forward with her shy girl act, but she’s looking out for Evie. They’re thick as thieves, and she’s loyal to a fault.
Bean knows that Evie has never felt super generous when it came to my friendship with Nora. That shit was two years ago, when we were younger and less secure in ourselves. Evie knows how I feel about her, and we’ve had time to cement that. Hanging out with the traumatized Nora is not going to be a problem for us.
“We should video call her when she lands,” Bean slyly suggests. “She can play cards with us, too.”
“Sounds good to me.” I lift a brow, as though in challenge. I see you, I hear you, I will not be squared up to. “She’s landing at three, and she promised to call.”
Mom and Oz remain discreet as our group makes its way through the house and out the back. Oz has a table setting out here, glass top, with eight chairs that we all slump into with grunts as though we’re old and weary. Mac tosses the bag of desserts onto the table, and Bean produces a deck of cards with a black and white joker covering the entire cardboard packaging.
“Poker?” Mac accepts the cards when Bean slides them in front of him. He takes them from the packet and begins shuffling. “Winner gets a point.”
“I’ll get a pen and paper.” Livi jumps up from her chair and races inside.