Page 26 of Our Ruined Beginnings

“What are you doing here?” I ask, fighting the urge to jump into Madden’s arms.

“Our favorite girl graduates tomorrow. Where else would we be?”

I warm under his words. He’s always had the power to affect me easily.

“Maybe the family holiday you’re supposed to be on?” They’d flown out to the Caribbean with their parents ten days ago and weren’t supposed to get home for another ten. Truthfully, it had bummed me out more than I’d ever admit that they weren’t going to be there, cheering me on as I walked across the stage. But here they are.

“Nope,” Madden says easily, not offering any more before flopping down onto the sofa next to me.

“You are gonna look a bit more presentable tomorrow, right, H?” Caleb mocks, raising a brow at my oversized sweater and jersey shorts, my hair thrown in a bun on top of my head. “I’m only letting out the big cheers if you do.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your very own national team sweater,” Madden says in my defense. “And you couldn’t pull it off as well as Harper does.” Caleb rolls his eyes and lounges the other side of me.

“I added four more spaces to the reservation and let Shannon know we’d be showing up to the afterparty,” Caleb says conversationally.

“Four?”

“Our parents wanted to join … if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” I love their parents; sometimes more than my own. “They can replace mine if they like,” I add, and Caleb stiffens.

“Hey,” he says softly, and I turn to face him, his face uncharacteristically serious. “I’m so proud of you. Fuck them. They’re only there for formalities. Tomorrow is about you, and I want you to enjoy every second of it knowing you deserve every ounce of celebration, okay?” I nod lightly, just a small tip of my head, and he relaxes. “And you can even wear that hideously unflattering jumper if you really want to.”

I grab at a cushion behind me to whack him with it, but he’s quick, up on his feet and moving away with a grin on his face already. “Drinks?” He doesn’t wait for answers before disappearing. None of the staff will find it weird in the slightest that he’s helping himself.

“I love this jumper,” I mutter childishly under my breath, and Madden huffs a laugh next to me.

“Do you know I actually got it for you?”

My gaze flicks from where I’m rubbing the comforting material between my fingers up to his bright green eyes.

“What?”

“It was yours from the beginning. Caleb might’ve sort’ve got the wrong end of the stick when I pulled it out because he hadn’t grabbed one for himself, but it was always meant to be yours.” I can’t fathom an answer. Just when I think I know Madden through and through, he surprises me. “Good thing you pouted long enough for him to give it back, eh?” he adds with a smirk, and I roll my eyes, grabbing the same cushion to whack him with, but it’s equally as unsuccessful this time around.

Instead, he grabs my wrist gently and holds it in his lap, thumb caressing the inside so casually it’s like he doesn’t even notice it. His posture is still lazy against the back of the sofa, but I suddenly feel jittery with his hands on me.

“You know I’m proud of you too, right?” His eyes are so sincere, his voice soft. “You’re a force of nature, and I can’t wait to watch you flourish.” My throat is tight with sudden emotion, not able to process the sweet words from my two favorite guys so soon after each other.

“You’ll be there?” I don’t know if I mean tomorrow as I graduate, or as Iflourish, but the need for him to say yes either way is bone deep.

“Always. I—” He stops himself, looking away and down to where our hands are practically entwined. Swallowing, he looks back up, but his gaze is slightly more guarded this time, a little of the seriousness gone from his demeanor.

“I tolerate you, Harper,” he says, with a small smirk.

“I tolerate you too.”

“Are you sure you didn’t put it somewhere else?” Kinsley asks casually, at complete odds with the panic rising in my chest. It’s stupid, I know it is, but I can’t lose that. It’s all I have left.

“No. I haven’t touched it.”

“And they didn’t wreck it when they trashed your room?”

I shake my head. “I had it in my bag.”

It had only been sheer luck that it was still in my backpack from the drive and so hadn’t been ripped to shreds with the rest of my clothes that first night.

---