Her eyes find mine, and when she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “You got back together with him?”
I flinch at the question, at the implication that I have any choice in the status of my relationship with Andrew. As if I’m the one who is keeping us apart. I wish I could say yes. Yes, I took back my cheating boyfriend because he is repentant and he loves me. Despite the tone of her inquiry, Liz wouldn’t judge me for that choice. She of all people might be the only one who could possibly understand why I would go back to Andrew. She’s been here. Not exactly here, no, but close enough. Liz and Julian were on-again, off-again for so long until they tied the knot. And every time he came back, she accepted him. I want to be able to say yes, but I’m not ready to follow through on that lie, to deal with the emotional torture it would bring.
I shake my head. “We’re not back together.”
“Jesus.” Liz rubs her temple. “How long has this been going on?”
My mind goes back to the night a month ago when it all started. Becca dragged me to a party, declaring that there was no way I was hiding out all summer. Andrew and Claire would not win. So I went to the party, and in true friend fashion, they handed me from person to person until the party started to wind down and those left were paired off.
Andrew found me sitting by the edge of the pool, my feet dangling in the cool water. He sat down too close for our lack of relationship. Andrew knocked his shoulder into mine and then leaned down and kissed the bare skin there. His smile was lazy but real. This was the boy I loved, not the cold stranger he’d been since I found him in bed with one of my best friends weeks earlier. He whispered words of reconciliation and regret, and my heart, still bleeding out, accepted them. My brain knew he didn’tmean them, not really. Maybe he did miss me and wish I didn’t hate him. In the morning light, sober, he wouldn’t feel that way. But my brain stopped being in charge the moment his scent hit my senses. When he brushed my hair behind my ear and cupped my cheek, I let him. And when his lips grazed mine, I leaned in. And when I saw Claire watching us, an awful idea took shape, and I knew, no matter how stupid it was, I was going to go through with it. Because, like Becca said, Claire didn’t get to win.
“How long, Zoey?”
Liz’s voice pulls me back to reality, and I shake off the memory and the pain. I try not to think about that night or any of the nights that led to it. The only way to get through thisaffair, or whatever the hell it is we’re doing, is to not examine it too closely. Sleeping with Andrew is stupid and risky, but having any part of him is better than being without him. Acid rises in my throat at my own thoughts.Pathetic.
Frustration, pity, and anger war in my veins as a flush creeps up my body. This is none of her business. “Why does it matter?”
Liz opens her mouth as if she’s about to protest but throws her hands up in frustration and sits down in a huff in Dad’s favorite chair. She hugs her knees, her eyes locked on mine. “How can you even look at him?”
I sit down across from her on the couch and clasp my hands in front of me.Because I still love him.The answer comes automatically, as if her question isn’t rhetorical.I don’t know how to be without him.These are such unhealthy answers. Ones I should be sharing with my therapist. But I can’t say those words out loud. I can barely think them without wanting to melt into a puddle of tears on the floor. BecauseIstill love him, buthedoesn’t love me. I know that rationally. But when he texts me to come over, when he says my name the way he always has, when his lips touch mine and the world feels right again, the rational part of me falls quiet. The overly emotional, lovesick part claimsthat if nothing else, I’m winning. If Andrew is sleeping with me, he’s not sleeping with Claire. That is my only rule, and despite what happened this spring, I believe he won’t break it.
“I have to get ready for orientation.” I tear my eyes away from Liz’s gaze. I don’t want to know why she looks frazzled or why I’m almost certain her question wasn’t rhetorical. The reasons might tear apart the fragile belief I still have in first love. That Andrew and I will get through this and find our way back. I know it can happen. The proof is sitting in front of me. Except right now, Liz doesn’t look like proof. She looks like a rebuttal.
Liz blinks, and her face pulls itself back together. Her eyes return to normal size, and the creases in her forehead smooth. She unclasps her hands and fiddles with her phone. If she smiled, she would be the big sister that I know and love. But she doesn’t smile.
“Are you going to tell Dad?” I ask, getting my priorities straight. Dad and I have a good thing going, mutual respect of a father and his almost-adult daughter living together for the summer. Andrew in my bed as opposed to any other guy will most certainly destroy that comfort.
Liz eyes me, as if taking my measure. She seems more herself each second, the shock of my situation with Andrew having worn off. After an extra second, she shakes her head. “No, I’m not going to tell Dad.”
Chapter 6
Zoey
As I sit parked outside the high school, halfway between the building and the track, a million memories come back to me. All good, mostly happy, but no longer rose-colored. Too many feature Andrew, even more Claire. I try to separate how it ended from the rest because I was happy in high school. The Zoey Reid I was at Ardena High had it all figured out. She’d found her place and her people. She had plans and dreams and hopes. That’s what I miss most, what I thought my life would be. The Zoey Reid I am now is treading water, if only to keep from drowning. My legs are getting tired.
Would it be this hard if I was still at Bellewood University rather than in this small town? Andrew and I going to college together was a natural decision. And when Claire’s top-choice school was across town from Bellewood, college life was looking up. I would have my boyfriend with me and my best friend close enough. Security and room to grow. It was more than I could’ve hoped for. Except now, there isn’t a single place in my life that doesn’t have an attachment to Andrew. Memories of him are everywhere, big and small and in between. A ripple of fear rips through me. What will happen when we go back at the end of summer? There’s no way I’m leaving Bellewood. It’s my favorite place to be, and I have friends and sorority sisters and a life there outside of Andrew. I won’t be alone. I’ll have all the support I need. But I’ll also never be truly free of him—or her.Will our summer activities extend into the semester? Or will all the reasons that led Andrew to stray push him further away than ever?
I stare at the track, pushing back the panic. I know better than to spiral like this, particularly before work. I blink back a few tears and survey the small-but-growing crowd. Ardena Heat Summer Camp is where you hone your skills, and once they are honed, it’s where you work for the summer, training the next batch of Ardena Eagles. Volleyball, football, track, field hockey, swim—whatever you’re good at, we’ll make you better, whether you’re ten years old and hoping to get into a sport before modified teams start in middle school or sixteen and vying for an early call-up to varsity.
As I get closer to the field, my eyes take in this summer’s staff. It’s a good bunch, though I’m the only graduate among the group. I spot the guy with the clipboard. He’s young and athletic and immensely good-looking.Interesting. I hadn’t expected Coach Evans to be in charge. He started my senior year as the assistant varsity football coach. He also taught a freshman course, but I’m not sure what. His arrival was the talk of the school. We didn’t often get teachers fresh out of college and not ones who had jawlines to rival Ryan Gosling’s.
“Hi, Coach Evans.” I push my sunglasses on top of my head. He might not recognize me either way. We didn’t interact much before I graduated.
He eyes me for a moment but does not consult his list. “Reid, right? Singer’s girlfriend?”
Correction. We didn’t interact much outside of football events. I force a smile to my lips. “Ex, now.”
“Ah, sorry.”
I shrug. It’s not the first time that has happened, and in a town like Ardena, it won’t be the last. “It’s fine, Coach.”
“Just Max now.” He smiles, and his beautiful face becomes even more beautiful.
I blink a few times, and I feel the corners of my lips quirk up though I made no conscious decision to smile. A buzz runs through my body, and I want to shake it out, but that would be weird.
“Okay, Max,” I say, still off-kilter.
Max definitely notices. He drops the smile and focuses on the clipboard. He points toward the far end of the field. “Track and field is over on the ten-yard line. I’ll be there once I check in the rest of the staff.”