Page 11 of Rival Summer

"Because," I hesitated, choosing my words carefully, "I just need him to know that I'm here for him if he needs me." There was more to it than that—unspoken feelings, regret, and unacknowledged moments—but this was neither the time nor the place.

Parker exhaled slowly. His hands were relaxed on the steering wheel now. "Okay," he said finally, "just don't be surprised if he needs space. I know that you’ve known him as long as I have. I get it, but he probably won't be in a great headspace."

"I know," I whispered. "But I won't sleep tonight if I don't at least try."

After everything, after spending the summer with the one person who could cut him deepest, I couldn't blame him for not wanting to speak to me.

The rest of the drive was lighter as I acknowledged the odd comfort of having Parker by my side. The car hummed along, tires splashing through puddles as we settled into silence that didn't need to be filled.

It was time to face my dilemma head-on. My fingers trembled slightly as I picked up my phone again and sent a message to Boston, so frustratingly distant lately. It was his team, but I had a right to be there too, damnit.

Me

Boston Riley, I know you’re seeing my text messages. We need to talk. Coming by your place tomorrow.

The next day, I pulled up to Parker and Boston's place, my heart drumming an anxious beat against my chest. I’d rehearsed the speech replaying in my mind all night. The words had to be just right—firm yet nonconfrontational. He needed to understand where I stood.

I gathered my courage, stepped out of the car, and approached their front door. But before my knuckles could tap against the wood, the door swung open. Parker's face greeted me, his brow arching mischievously.

"Whatever you're selling, we don't want it," he quipped.

"Very fun–," I started to say, but he shut the door, leaving me standing there. A bit deflated, I crossed my arms, contemplatingwhether to knock again or turn around and leave. But then the door reopened.

This time it was a girl I recognized from my party. She looked displeased and her hair was a mess. "I've been trying to tell him his jokes aren't funny," she sighed, casting a pointed look at Parker, who only smirked in response. She gave me a tight smile before nudging him gently. "Let's go, I'm hungry."

They brushed past me, and Parker paused, his humor subsiding into genuine concern. "What do you need, Chan?" he asked, dropping his usual antics for a moment.

"Oh, nothing," I lied, my voice nonchalant. "Just stopped by to say a few words to Boston."

Parker studied me for a heartbeat longer, clearly curious about what I might have to say. “Are you okay? Need me to stay?”

“No, I’ll be quick,” I responded.

He nodded toward the living room. "He's all yours," he said, stepping outside.

As I closed the door behind them and ventured further in, I found Boston sitting at the kitchen island, a bowl of cereal almost to his lips. His surprised gaze locked onto mine.

"Hey," I began, forcing my feet to carry me closer despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He set down his bowl and waited. For a moment neither of us spoke, the silence stretched between us.

"Look, I need to say a few things," I started, then hesitated. This was Boston, after all. No matter what he was going through, he was still the boy who’d grown up next door, who had the kindest heart. And here I was, finally alone with him for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

"Go ahead," he encouraged, his voice gentle but wary. He stayed seated but there was tension in his shoulders, a readinessfor whatever I might unleash upon him. I took a deep breath, ready to release my rant.

"I get that you're going through something, Boston, I do." My words came out in a rush. "But, unfortunately, I happen to be in need of a summer job." I clasped my hands together, fighting to keep them steady.

"Willow offered me one on the Blue Devils’ committee," I continued, trying to read his reaction, but he didn’t show a single emotion. "And I'm taking it." I swallowed, pushing on despite the tightness in my throat. "I appreciate that it's your team, and you obviously don't want me around."

I could see the tension in his jaw, but his eyes, those bright blues that I’d looked into for years—remained unreadable. There was so much history between us, so many unspoken words hanging heavily in the room.

"There are a number of reasons this isn't ideal," I admitted, feeling a knot forming in my stomach. "But it's not about that. Trust me, I don't want any drama this summer." I paused, waiting to see if he would interject, but he didn’t.

"I am staying away from boys, especially those in a blue jersey." My voice faltered just a bit as memories threatened to surface. I shook them off with a deep breath. "I just didn't want you to be surprised when you see me there." My gaze locked with his, daring him to challenge my decision. "I'll be there to do my thing, and you should do yours."

With my rant over, relief washed over me, even though my heart still hammered in my chest.

Unexpectedly, a trace of a smile flickered across Boston's lips—a rarity as of late. It caught me off guard, and my defenses momentarily wavered.

"Wait, what do you mean, ‘those in a blue jersey’? So you'd be with a guy in another color?" He gave me a teasing look beforepicking up the bowl again. "I hope it’s not red—the Titans. Those guys are the worst."

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