Page 8 of Rival Summer

So I did what I had learned to do best—I hid my emotions, locking away the warmth of wanting to reach out to her. I kept calm, my stance rigid as I rested an arm on the doorway and let her finish. It took everything within me not to pull her into my arms, to tell her everything would be alright, even though my own world was shattered.

"Chandler, it’s late," I finally said, my voice low and steady. "I don't want to talk about it—not to you, not to anyone. I just want to be left alone."

It was a lie, at least in part. I craved her presence, I wanted her there, but lines had been drawn in the sand, and she was on the side with him. And even if she wasn’t, I couldn’t pull her into my fucked up situation. There was nothing good I could offer her. She was too good for me, and definitely too good for him.

Her lips parted, ready to protest, but she paused, biting down on her lower lip—a habit I knew all too well. "Boston," she whispered, walking up the steps and inching closer. Her voice trembled slightly. "I want to be here for you. We can talk, I can sit with you—just let me be here."

I looked down at her and she looked up at me, our height difference pronounced. My hand came up instinctively, fingers gently brushing her cheek. The contact, a touch connecting us in the quiet night, sent an ache through me. My thumb traced her softness, lingering on her cheekbone.

"It's not your problem," I whispered, trying my best to push her away. "Why don't you check on... him? He needs you more than I do."

Her eyes locked with mine as if searching for something, Maybe the truth, buried beneath. But I couldn't give it to her. There was nothing for me to give.

"Please, Boston," she urged softly, her voice more tender. I stepped back and the night air swept in, filling the space where our bodies had almost met. "Go home, Chandler," I said, my voice steady despite the fucking dumpster fire burning inside me.

And I turned away, leaving her standing in the darkness. My chest tightened with the effort of pretending I hadn’t just shut the door on her, on my entire world.

FIVE

chandler

Kristinaand I sat across from each other at our small kitchen table, stuffing our faces full of twirled forkfuls of spaghetti. I had just taken a bite when my phone started to vibrate on the table.

With a mouthful of pasta threatening to spill from my lips, I clumsily swiped at the screen, answering the call. "Hey, Mo?—"

The moment the video call connected, I knew something was off. She wore the same face she used to tell me I was grounded and not happy with me. My heart sank a little at the sight.

"Chandler? How is everything?" she asked weakly.

I quickly swallowed my mouthful of noodles, feeling them slide down somewhat awkwardly. "Yeah, all good here," I replied, trying to keep my voice even. "Kristina made spaghetti." I gestured with my fork to the dish in front of me, hoping maybe I was reading her facial expression wrong.

"That's good, honey," she said. Her thoughts seemed elsewhere, though. The lack of enthusiasm was unlike her, and I felt a knot forming in my stomach.

"Mom?" I pressed, leaning forward slightly. "What's up?"

“I have some bad news," her voice was gentle, but the gravity in her tone made my heart drop into my stomach. "Your dad was laid off, unfortunately."

"Oh, no. Is he okay?" I asked.

She gave a small, reassuring nod. "You know we've been here before, sweetheart. He's trying to stay busy." She paused and gave me another unhappy look before continuing. "He called a friend and there's a construction job he can help with for the summer. In Texas. We're hoping he can do this big project and it'll give him some time to find another job back in Stillwater."

The spaghetti on my plate suddenly seemed like an insurmountable mountain I couldn't climb. The fork clattered softly against the plate as I set it down, my appetite vanishing into thin air. "That sucks, Mom," I mumbled through my fingers. "I hate that he'll have to be away for the whole summer."

"That's the thing, Chandler..." her voice trailed off for a moment, while I braced for the additional blow. "I'm going to go with him. I don't need to be back to start planning lessons and setting up for the school year until August."

I remembered summers when I was younger, how I'd once envied my mom's long breaks from work. I loved the freedom she had when we were out of school.

"Wait," I blurted out, the news sinking in. "What about our plans?"

"There will be plenty of time for that in the future, honey. With everything that's happening, I think it would be a good idea for you to get a summer job. Just in case we're unable to help with school next year. Luckily your brother has the scholarship, so he’ll be okay.”

The thought of spending my summer cashiering or pouring coffee wasn’t what I had planned, but I also didn’t want them to stress about finding a way to continue helping me.

"Okay, Mom." I nodded, still feeling disappointed. "Well, give Dad a hug for me."

"Of course, sweetie." She managed a brave smile. "I will. And don't worry, I'll keep you updated."

"Love you, Mom."

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