Page 10 of Staying Selfless

I snap my head to look at him before turning to lay on my side, facing him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Marc.”

“Yes, I do. I’m a bad friend. I should’ve seen it coming.”

“No, you’re not. You’re the best friend. You have no idea how great of a friend you are.”

He gives me a half-smile, but because his eyes are still red from the whiskey, I don’t say any more. I just lean my head against him and drape my arm across his back as he closes his eyes for some much-needed sleep. Eventually, sleep finds me too, because having one of my boys around me always brings me back to center.

Chapter 4

Eli

I didn’t mean to react that way when I saw her. I didn’t mean to be rude and short and leave as quickly as I did, but I was about to start crying like a little bitch. I could feel it welling up, and I didn’t want her to see me that way.

If she came back to Minnesota, I thought I would run up to her, grab her, and kiss her, but the wave of hurt that washed over me kept my feet planted where they were. After the initial relief I felt, seeing her back in her bed, I was hit with hurt because she didn’t tell me she was home.

Are things really that bad between us that she wouldn’t tell me?

When she left for California, I reminded myself it had nothing to do with me or our relationship, but suddenly after last night, it felt like it was. There was an awkward tension between us when, typically, I’m more myself and relaxed when she’s around.

I stayed awake all night, contemplating texting her. I typed out about ten different messages apologizing for how I reacted and asking if I could come over. But I deleted them all. I’m trying to remind myself not to suffocate her. That she wanted to work through her feelings on her own, but I could tell by the way she looked last night that she’s still in it. She’s still in the depths of grief, and I’m trying to respect her decision to get through it by herself.

But I don’t want to leave her alone, and the last thing I want is for her to feel alone. And I’m pretty sure the way I treated her last night made her feel more alone than ever before.

She just spent three weeks sifting through her dead parents’ belongings, and that’s what she comes back to? Fuck.

It’s early in the morning, but I have to see her. I’m leaving for Chicago tonight, and I should’ve begged her to come instead of brushing it off as I did. I just want to make sure we’re okay before I leave. We don’t have to be perfect. She doesn’t even need to tell me she loves me. I just need to know that we will be okay—eventually.

I lightly knock on her door before turning the handle and opening it. She obviously forgot to lock it again after I left last night, which doesn’t sit well with me, but I’m not going to lecture her about it or remind her right now how unsafe that is.

I was hoping Logan would be awake, but she’s not. In fact, she’s passed out, leaning against Marc in her bed with her arm swung around his back. If this were any other guy, I’d pull him out of her bed by his collar and beat the living shit out of him. But seeing Marc here with her just makes me happy.

I’m glad she’s not alone, even if it’s not me that’s here with her.

I quietly duck out of her room, but before I close her door, my eyes find her pictures on her bookshelf. When I spot the one of her parents and the one of us replaced in their rightful spot, I can’t help but smile.

And then an idea hits me. It was something I was going to do for Logan for Christmas, but today is as good a day as any.

Chapter 5

Logan

After Marc woke up again a few hours later and dragged his hungover ass back to his own bed, I got up and ready for a much-needed workout.

I haven’t worked out at all over the previous three weeks, but I was ready to today. I needed to after that uncomfortable interaction with Eli last night.

As soon as I walked into the gym, I was hit with déjà vu from the last time I was here. It was the day that Zac showed up, and I had a breakdown in here about my mom. A small wave of sadness began to wash over me, but instead of crumbling, I decided to feel it. I decided it was okay to be sad, and I ended up having a productive workout that made my mind clearer than it had been in a while.

When I get back to my room, I peel my sweat-soaked clothes off my body before wrapping a towel around my bust to head to the showers. I grab my toiletry bag, but as I do, something catches my eye on my bookcase, drawing my attention.

My eyes start stinging as I walk over, my mouth gaping as I do. There’s a bunch of new pictures on my shelf, none of which I’ve ever seen before.

The first one I spot is a picture of Marc carrying me over his shoulder on Thanksgiving Day after we won their family’s annual football game. We are both covered in mud, but giant smiles are plastered on our faces. Mary must’ve snapped it from her seat on the sideline.

The next one is Ali and I studying together in my room. If you want to call it that. Our books are open in our lap, but we’re in the middle of a fit of laughter. I know precisely when this was taken. Eli had barged in on one of our Thursday night study sessions, but he must’ve captured this before he came in.

Another is Cam and me after taking a shot together on Halloween, both of us grimacing after pouring the liquid down our throats. Cam is the most unexpected friendship I’ve gained this year. I know he’s Eli’s teammate, but he and I have formed a bond that has nothing to do with my boyfriend. Again, I know Eli took this, but I wasn’t aware at the time.

---