by Emilia Finn
“You don’t want him to fight?” I stammer on a surprised exhale. “What th– What? You’ve been working with him for seven years. That’s almost half of your life, Bean!”
“I know how long it is,” she replies solemnly. Her chocolate eyes swim and flicker between mine. “I know the sacrifices I’ve made, and how scary this future is for us, but if he’s gonna fight no matter what, then I’m gonna make sure he has the best trainer and the best nurse. Because I was raised amongst the passionate love that you scoff at. I was raised to love fiercely, and unconditionally. You do neither. You love Ben, but only if he doesn’t spend any time with another female. And you don’t even like Reid, but you hang out, because he gives you the googly eyes that make your ego feel good.”
“You’re being an asshole,” I growl.
“And you’re being a brat. You’re hurting Ben, you’re hurting Reid, and now you’re considering leaving for a boy you’re only bleh about, and hurting your whole fucking family.” She pushes away and sits up on my bed. Sitting tall, she fixes her ponytail so her mahogany hair reaches all the way to her butt. “We all knew you were a spoiled brat, Smalls. Hell, we’ve made bets on that too, but I had no clue you were so fucking weak. I had no clue you’d come this low.” She stands and pushes her hair over her shoulder. “It’s embarrassing that you can’t love Ben the way he loves you. You don’t see me crying just because Mac hangs with you or Livi.”
“Bean!” I sit up fast when she walks to the door. “It’s not so easy–”
“Oh, please,” she laughs. “Maybe you need to watch Ben die the way I watched Mac take his last breaths. Maybe then you’ll see what’s important.”
“Don’t put that shit into the universe!” I shout angrily. “You’d wish for your own brother to die?”
“I don’t. I wish for him to have a long, happy life. But until you pull your head out of your ass, that probably means he deserves Nora, and ironically, you deserve the pouty baby you call Reid. Ha!” She opens the door. “Wait, I guess you’ve had it right all along. Nevermind. Ignore everything I said.”
“I hate you,” I hiss as she goes to close the door.
“No.” She pokes her head back in. “You hate you, but you’re too proud to admit it. Go to him and tell the damn truth, or stay away and date the wet cardboard version of him. But if you stay away, then you don’t deserve to wear that ring. You had balls when you were thirteen, Smalls. And we were all jealous of your bravery. But now…” She looks around my room, then back to me. “I’d rather be me. And I’m embarrassed that I wanted to be you for so much of my life.”
She turns away and closes my door with a soft snick. Bean doesn’t slam doors. She’s cool and controlled, quiet and perfect. She says she wanted to be me, which is ironic, considering most of my adolescence, I watched her and wished I could be even half as perfect.
I drop back to my bed when minutes pass and she doesn’t come back, and fingering the ring Ben gave to me, I try to stave the tears that want to fall.
I have never stopped wearing his ring. I’ve never gotten over him. I’ve never stopped wishing for things to be different.
And all this time, I’ve dated Reid, and the similarities are sickening: training together, the humor, the height, the skill in the octagon, the ability to deescalate my crazy.
Reid is literally the watered-down version of Ben, and for as long as I wore Ben’s ring and didn’t have sex with Reid, it could almost feel like the same thing if I pretended.
“Shit.” I sit up again and fist the ring in my hand. My heart pounds so hard that it makes it hard to breathe, but I push to my feet anyway, and head out of my room and into the hall before I lose my guts.
Or my balls, as Bean so eloquently puts it.
My family moves around downstairs, a little quieter than usual, but such a large family can only be so muted, and when I reach the bottom of the stairs and peek into the kitchen, I find my mom, dad, sisters, and Aunt Tink sitting on the counter, sipping at mugs of tea.
“Smalls…” Tink lifts a brow. She’s the first-generation version of me, in a way. The ballsiest, the loudest. Ironically, she lost years and years with my Uncle Jon until they could get their shit together and communicate effectively.
She’s told me and Bean their story a hundred times, the story of how she and Jon were on again, off again, while they tried to work through this best-friends-to-lovers thing they had going on. Uncle Jon didn’t want to lose her as a friend, and Aunt Tink just wanted him in whatever capacity he could give.
“Where’s Ben?”
“Halfpipe.”
I chew on my bottom lip and nod. “And Reid?”
“I think he went for a walk into the forest,” Mom says. “He went out Uncle Bobby’s way.”
“Here’s hoping the bears can smell the honey I poured into his pockets,” Aunt Tink sing-songs.
I glare at her for a moment, but it’s ineffectual, so I turn away with an eyeroll. “I’m going for a walk.”
“You’re going to find Reid?” Biggie asks.
He’s tried so hard this whole time I’ve been home to not say bad things about Reid. He might not like my boyfriend, but he refuses to nudge me one way or the other, for fear I choose the opposite, and his preference creates a wedge in our relationship.
“Yeah. He’s my guest, and I’ve been a complete dick to him. I need to apologize.”
“Babe–” Mom steps forward, but stops again when I shake my head.
“Don’t. Don’t tell me your thoughts, please. I don’t want to know how much I’m disappointing everyone.” I pass through the doorway and move through the living room. I see the halfpipe through the window, but I ignore it and continue toward the front door.
It’s time to grow some balls.
I close the door as quietly as I can, but Ben is still attuned to my every move. He reclines back on the halfpipe beside Mac, and lowers the playing cards in his hands as his eyes come to me. They study me hard, and slide from my shoes to my hair. The twins have joined them now, and Bry is still eating, and Bean is back in the exact spot she was when I left.
This is their life when I’m not around. It’s all normal and calm, and only when Hurricane Evie comes home does it all go to shit.
I cast a glance to the forest behind Uncle Bobby’s house, and swallow when my eyes meet Reid’s. He stands by the gate with his hands in his pockets. His shoulders are hunched, his head bowed low, but he watches me with equal parts hurt and curiosity.
It’s tempting to not go to Ben first. It’s scary having everyone’s eyes on me, but I drop Reid’s gaze and continue the way I was going.
I need to do the right thing. I need to stop being a coward.
When I don’t turn toward Reid, Ben jumps up from his spot on the wooden structure, and pats the backside of his jeans. He tosses his cards down, and fixes his shirt as I approach. He’s nervous, when he never normally is.
I send up a little thank you to the universe when he steps away from my cousins and meets me halfway. This is going to hurt already, and I’d really prefer not to have an audience to every word I murmur.
“Evie?” He stops in front of me and overwhelms my senses when his aftershave claws its way into my lungs. It’s the scent I grew up knowing. The scent I’ve been denying every minute that I’ve been back.
It’s the scent I fell in love with, that I made love with, and then the scent I mourned.
I continue to mourn.
“Hey?” He grabs my chin and drags my face up. I didn’t know I was crying until his callused thumb scrapes over my cheek and collects the tears. I don’t cry. I never cry, which means Ben is already freaking out. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks with pathetic emotion. “I’m sorry for being jealous. I’m sorry for being petty. I’m sorry for breaking our best friend contract.” I meet his eyes. “I’m sorry for fighting with you all the time. And for letting my pity party get between us. I’m sorry for using Nora to hurt you, a
nd for trying to make you choose between us. You can’t choose, because that’s who you are. You’re a caretaker, and she’s important too. She was hurt, and I was so caught up in my own shit, I would have had you dump her in the desert, and it would have made me happy.”
“Evie… I don’t hang out with her anymore. I stopped because it hurts you, so I made sure she was okay, then I stepped back.”
I burst into tears – not of happiness, but of disgust. “I’m so ashamed. She doesn’t deserve to lose such a good friend.”
“She’s doing okay.” He slides his thumb beneath my eyes. It’s rough and scratchy, but it’s so perfectly us. “I didn’t dump her in the desert or anything. But I made sure she was okay, and told her that although I’m stepping back, she still has my number. If she needs me, I’ll take her call. But she has other coping mechanisms now, so I’m like the tenth step in her process.”
“I’m sorry that you gave her up for me.”
He smiles and tries to lower so I don’t have to fold my neck back so far. “I would do anything for you. I already told you, I still love y–”
I shake my head and step back so his hands drop. My swift move surprises him. Hurts him. And makes his face harden when I reach out and take his hand. It’s not a caress, not a declaration of love. I hold his hand in both of mine, place my ring on his palm, and close his fingers around it. “I’m a mess, Ben. And I’ve hurt everyone I know because I can’t get my shit under control.”
“You’re quitting on us?”
“I quit before I left that first time. I was already in pout mode before I boarded my plane, and if no one was going to let me get my own way – as in, not go – then I was already on the path to screwing everything up. It just took me a really long time to admit it.” I let his hand lower, and take a step back so he can’t touch anymore. “I love you, Ben. I always did, and pathetically, I suspect I always will. But if it’s not too late, you should probably call Nora back. She’d be good for you.”
“I don’t want Nora!” He storms forward. “Fuck, Evie. How many times do I have to say it?”
I step back. A dance. A synchronized movement while I maintain the distance between us. “You might not think you want her now, but I bet if you applied yourself the way you have to me for so many years, you could find in her what you want from me.” I step forward, because I’m weak, pull him down, and press a kiss to his cheek. I know Reid’s gaze burns the side of my face. As does Bean’s, and Bry’s, and everyone else’s inside my house. “I love you, Ben. Thank you for showing me what true love is. Thank you for showing me what’s possible, and what to never give up on if I should ever find it again.”
“Evie, no.” His lips quiver. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s already done.” I step back and cup his jaw for just a moment. “I’ll see you around, okay? Be good.” I choke on the words we’ve said so many times in our gym. “Be great.”
“Come out swinging,” he finishes with a scratchy voice.
I nod. “We’re champions. And I’ll be watching. Don’t fuck it up.”
I turn away before he can convince me to come back. Because he could, if only I gave him a minute to try. My breath shudders through my chest in painful bubbles, but I don’t look back to the man I’ve broken – again – nor do I look back to my house or to my cousins on the skate ramp.
I stare directly into Reid’s eyes and take his hand when I get to the gate. I know tears sit on my cheeks, and I know my eyes are red and puffy, but I’m done lying. I’m done pretending that my head isn’t all kinds of fucked up. It has been since I was a bratty child, and I was allowed to get away with it for so long, it’s become a way of life.
“Evie?”
“Walk with me?” I open the gate that leads into Uncle Bobby’s yard, and try my hardest not to peek back to Ben.
It’s useless, because I can’t not want him.
His head is bowed low, his shoulders pulled in. He’s never in his life walked away from the octagon looking so defeated, which means, with words alone, I’ve done what so many others have tried and failed in the past.
He deserves better.
I lead Reid through my uncle’s yard, then out the gate at the back, which leads straight into the forest. Just like Ben’s mom and stepdad’s home, the forest encroaches on our space and provides the most amazing backdrop for a family and love.
If we kept walking for about twenty minutes, we’d happen across Ben’s home, and ten more minutes after that, the spring.
I swear, I’ve spent almost as many hours in this forest with Ben as we did in the gym. We fell in love while climbing these trees. We got to know each other while studying the foliage. We told secrets while sitting on the logs, and snuck longing looks while swimming in the spring. There’s a reason we never told the others about that swimming spot; because it was the one place it felt a little less scary to look for longer.
To be caught looking.
When you’re in a body of water and weightless, you worry less about falling.
When you’re already all wet, and maybe you pretend you’re tired of kicking your feet, asking for a hug that lasts longer than usual isn’t so… taboo.
The spring, with all its natural minerals and healing elements, is where we fell in love.
And though I walk with Reid in that general direction, I’m not taking him anywhere near our sacred space.
“Evie, I need you to talk to me.” He yanks me back when I continue over a fallen tree. He catches me when I stumble, and holds me against his chest, but when I try to step away, he holds me close and presses a kiss to the corner of my lips. “You’re scaring me.”
I’ve said my apologies to Ben, so now it’s time to give Reid that same courtesy.
Standing taller, I back away so that we only stand a foot apart, but so I’m not leaning against him. It’s time to stand on my own two feet. To pay for my bad behavior, and to release my victims to live their lives without my bullshit.
“I’m sorry for bringing you here,” I begin with as much strength in my voice as I can muster. “My actions were never malicious, I swear, but had I thought it through a little more, I would have known I was setting us up for failure. My family doesn’t mean to meddle, but the history Ben and I have…” I shake my head and reach up to tuck hair behind my ear. “There was no way bringing you here could have ended well. I’m sorry.”
“Are you…” He looks between my eyes with emotion sparkling in his. “Are you choosing him?”
“No.” I swallow. It doesn’t escape me that my tears don’t fall anymore. They’ve dried up, and my eyes have cleared. “No, I’m not choosing him. I told him goodbye too.”
“You’re coming back to school, right? You only have one semester left.”
“Yes.” I clear my throat. “I’m coming back to school. I’ve come too far to quit now. But you and me…” Nerves flicker through my stomach. “I can’t give you what you need. I’m in love with the wrong person, and for as long as it takes me to work that out of my system, I can’t be with you either. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”
“I told you I would wait.” He grabs my hands and squeezes so hard that my knuckles crush together. “I knew you had… baggage,” he hedges. “I knew this would be tricky, but I promised I’d wait anyway.”
“But you won’t. We’ve been here three days, and you couldn’t hack the pressure. You’re saying this now, because in your mind, half of me is better than breaking up. But it won’t last. You demanded answers just an hour ago, and if I agree to stay with you, it’ll only take a couple days for you to want more again. It’s…” I shake my head. “I don’t want to be with you, Reid. It feels wrong to kiss you, only to think of him. I can’t sleep with you, because I’m always thinking of him. I can’t do anything with you, because I’m always thinking of him.”
“So you are choosing him?”
“No,” I sigh. “I’m choosing me. I’m choosing some alone time, and praying I can get my head on s
traight before I make my next move.”
“And when you come home in May?” Reid’s famed control begins to slip. His passive face turns redder. His jaw grinds. And his chest fills with adrenaline. “Do you expect him to have left this family he’s clawed his way into? Do you honestly expect him to move aside and let you be free?”
“No.” I lick my bottom lip to moisten it. “No, he’s family, and family doesn’t mean claws. It means love. Which means I expect him to be here when I get back, but I’m hoping I’ll be the one that has changed. I’ll hope to have matured, to have been able to put him in a little keepsake box in my mind, where I can lock it away and think of him fondly, but not obsessively.” I try to pull my hands from Reid’s iron grip. “But no matter what happens in my head, you and I won’t make it. Because I’m not in love with you, and no forevers ever worked when they began the way ours did.”
His lips tighten the more I struggle to get my hands free. “Reid, stop, let me g–”
“You’re making these decisions for us,” he growls. “You’re telling me what I can and can’t handle in a relationship, but you’re forgetting my feelings. I told you I loved you, which means we can figure it out once we take the time.”
“I said no,” I snap. “I refuse to marry a guy I feel bleh about, only to argue with you over the typical marriage stuff – socks on the floor, or crumbs on the counter – and you bring up my ex like it’s some kind of weapon. I will not lay in bed beside my husband and wonder where Ben is, or make love to you, and wonder how it would feel if it was him instead.”
“I won’t throw him at you,” he insists. “I won’t use him as a weapon. You just need to want to stop thinking of him. You’re not even trying.”
“I said no.” I yank my hands free with a final snap of my wrists, and school my every muscle and brain cell when I want to toss him to the ground. I’ve spent my life learning how to fight people larger and heavier than me. It’s in my very soul to toss him, but he’s hurting, and it’s all my fault. “I said no, Reid. I said I don’t want this. So you can leave, or you can stay. You can finish this vacation as a fight fan, and ask your questions over the dinner table. I know you were excited to meet my family for that reason, so I won’t ask you to leave. But you need to know we won’t be a couple when I get back to school. I can’t live this lie anymore.”