Page 91 of Triple Play

Blake wraps a hand around Brayden’s neck like gripping a puppy by its nape, tilting Brayden until their foreheads practically touch. He says something too low to make out.

I should stop eavesdropping, even if I can’t help overhearing Blake’s emphatic whisper. “Anytime you want to go, just say the word.” As if they’re about to fight right here.

Felix, meanwhile, has finished putting our bags in the trunk. He’s standing at the rear of the car, not quite leaning against Lilac II’s bumper. I walk over to him. Roll my eyes at Brayden with the air of Get a load of this jerk.

And Felix steps away from me. “Maybe we shouldn’t…” he mumbles. “Forsyth and I might have to work together.”

Fuck, everything hurts all over again. That we lied to Blake. That we have to live with the consequences. Or I do—that I’m getting to Florida with no boyfriend and no friend. Without my real car, just this clean, functional version of her that throws into sharper relief how screwed up the rest of my life is.

“Where do you need a ride to, Bray?” Blake asks, overly loud, as if he’s alerting me and Felix to the end of their conversation.

Brayden shrugs. “My car’ll be here in like twenty minutes.”

“We’ll wait with you.”

“You don’t trust me unsupervised?” Brayden’s laugh doesn’t contain much actual laughter.

“No,” Blake says, “not really.”

“I’m gonna be alone once I get to Florida.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.” Blake says it low, like he doesn’t want us to hear, then adds, “I got a spare bedroom if you want one.”

So it’s like that—Blake making sure Felix and I know where we stand. I should probably start looking for tickets for the auto train now. The sooner I get the hell off this trip and back to my real life, the better.

“That’s kinda shitty,” I whisper to Felix.

“Can you really blame him?” As if it’s clear who Felix feels is responsible for all this—me.

The worst part is he isn’t wrong. He wanted to tell Blake. I refused. Blake found out. Sometimes you have to live with the consequences of your actions, if that’s busting your ankle walking across a parking lot in the dark or lying to someone you love.

“I’ll head back to Boston tomorrow morning,” I say, “Make things easier on you both.”

Felix opens his mouth like he might argue. Like he might tell me I should stay. Then he closes his mouth with a click. He needs the money—he’s been clear about that from the start. Which means getting along with Blake if the team decides to keep him. Which means he and I aren’t anything to each other than two people about to share an awkward ten-hour ride in a purple Volvo.

So we wait. Brayden and Blake spend half the time bickering, half the time trading gossip about their relatives. Felix leans against the car and says nothing.

I stare at my phone, pretending to scroll through Instagram but mostly just watching my own reflection in the darkened screen and wishing I could call someone. I could text a friend, but this feels like too much to put in writing. Some part of me wants to get back to Boston and go home: not to the crappy apartment I’m renting but to the house where I grew up, with portraits of me my parents put on the wall. Back to when my life was easy. Another thing I ruined with my stubbornness.

Finally, Brayden’s car arrives, driven by some friend who Blake must know because he sucks his teeth when he sees her but doesn’t say anything other than, “Good morning.” Just hugs Brayden and says, “Let me know when you get in to Florida, okay?” then aims him at his car like he’s worried Brayden’ll get in trouble between the curb and pavement.

They speed off—a screech of tires, Brayden’s laugh from the window underpinned by a thump of bass—leaving Felix, Blake, and me to look at each other on the sidewalk.

“We should get driving,” Blake says. “I can take the first shift.”

It’s my car. Even if I’ve had my fill of driving for a long time. “Sure. Felix, you want the front seat or the back?”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

Sitting next to Blake will only make how things have changed more obvious—he won’t pause mid-sentence to kiss me or ask about my calculus homework or grin and make me feel like I’m lucky to be his. Stuff I don’t deserve. Stuff I never really deserved.

So I situate myself in Lilac II’s backseat, wait for Blake and Felix to settle in the front. Lilac II is smaller on the inside than her predecessor. When I close the door, it doesn’t squeak.

And I thought this trip would mean too much time together, but crammed in this car with both of them, I’ve never felt more alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Felix

---