Page 32 of It's Only Ever Been You

A few nights later, another party, another distraction. This time it’s some girl named Taylor, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as she drags me onto the dance floor. She’s all energy, laughing and twirling like she owns the room, and for a while, I let myself get caught up in it. Her hands on my shoulders, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispers something suggestive, grinding on me and I let her. It’s all just noise, drowning out the thoughts I don’t want to face.

But then, I turn my head just enough and I see Emma.

She’s standing near the door, arms crossed, her expression shattered as she watches me. Our eyes meet for a split second before she turns and walks away, and that look on her face—pain, disappointment, and even anger—hits me harder than I expect.

Taylor pulls me closer, her hands sliding down my chest, but I barely feel it. My gaze is fixed on the empty space where Emma had been, my chest tightening with something I can’t name.

“Ethan?” Taylor’s voicesnaps me back to the present, and I force a smile, shaking my head.

“Yeah, sorry. Just spaced out for a sec.” I reply.

But the truth is, I’m not here. I’m not anywhere. And no matter how many parties I go to or how many girls I kiss, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m losing something—someone—that I might never get back.

The next morning, the guilt from last night is impossible to ignore. I sit in the locker room after practice, my head resting against the cool metal of my locker, the sounds of my teammates’ voices bouncing around me. They’re laughing, shouting about plans for the weekend, but I can’t bring myself to join in.

All I can think about is Emma. The way she looked at me before walking out of that party. The way her shoulders slumped, like I’d taken something from her.

“Hey, you good, man?” Jace’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I glance up to see him leaning against the lockers, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. “Just tired.”

Jace doesn’t buy it. He crosses his arms, his expression skeptical. “You’ve been in a mood all week. Let me guess—Emma?”

I don’t respond, but the way my jaw tightens must give me away because he sighs, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to talk about it, but whatever’s going on with you two? It’s eating you alive, dude. You’ve gotta figure that shit out.”

“Figure out what?” I snap, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “She’s the one who—”

I stop myself, my words hanging in the air like a dare I don’t want to follow through on.

“She’s the one who what?” Jace presses, his tone gentler now. “You sure it’s all on her? Because from where I’m standing you’re being an asshole to her. You think I haven’t noticed the way you hang all over girls when you know she’s around?”

I glare at him, but the truth stings too much to deny. “I don’t know, man. Maybe it is. Maybe it’s me. I just…”

He raises an eyebrow, waiting, but I shake my head and push off the bench. “Forget it.”

But the thing is, I don’t want to forget it. I don’t want to forget her. But every time I think about going to her and clearing the air, I hear that word in my head again.

Regret.

She regrets me.

Later that afternoon, I find myself wandering the campus aimlessly, my feet leading me to places I don’t even realize I’m heading until I’m there. When I pass by the library, I pause, catching sight of her through the window.

She’s sitting at her usual table, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, her face buried in a textbook. There’s a guy sitting next to her, leaning in a little too close as he says something that makes her laugh. I miss her laugh. I haven’t heard it in weeks, and it hits harder than I want to admit.

My first instinct is to go in there, stake my claim, remind her that she’s mine even if neither of us has said the words out loud. But what right do I have? After everything I’ve done, after the way I’ve acted, how could I expect her to still want me?

I turn away before she can see me, shoving my hands into my pockets and heading back toward the quad. The air is cool against my skin, but it does nothing to quiet the turmoil in my chest.

By the time the weekend rolls around, I’ve had enough of myself. Another party, another excuse to drown out the noise in my head. This time, it’s at one of the frat houses, and the place is packed. Music blares from every corner, the smell of beer and cheap cologne hanging thick in the air.

I grab a drink and find a spot near the edge of the room, scanning the crowd. It doesn’t take long for someone to approach—a girl with dark curls anda confident smile. She introduces herself as Olivia, and I nod along as she talks, barely registering her words. She’s pretty, sure, but I don’t really care.

It doesn’t take long before she’s leaning in closer, her hand touching my chest as she laughs at something I’m not even sure was funny. I let it happen, let her think I’m interested, because for a moment, it feels like an escape. It’s impossible for me to forget the way Emma looked at me, or the way this gaping hole in my chest has felt hollow ever since.

When Olivia leans in to kiss me, I let her, my hands settling on her waist as I pull her closer. It’s mechanical, automatic—nothing like the way it feels when I kiss Emma. But I keep going, letting her hands wander, letting the kiss deepen. The girl grinds into me and I don’t stop her, maybe this will drown out all the thoughts in my head. My hands start running down the girls body and I grip her ass, deciding I might as well try to enjoy this, until I hear it.

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