Page 45 of In the Net
Harper must sense the hesitation on my face. “Sebastian, you are not chickening out on seeing him after you spent all last night dumping your guilt on me.” The tone in her voice brooks no disagreement. “Take out your phone.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
I wonder if she’s this bossy in …
Nope, not going there.
When I take out my phone, she says, “Now book a flight back home. First thing. You have a chance to make things right. Don’t waste it.”
I’d kick myself if these words even occurred to me just one week ago, but Harper’s right. It’s a hit to my bank account that makes me cringe, but I book a flight that’ll bring me back to my hometown for the day after we arrive back in Vermont.
“I booked it.”
“Good,” Harper says, measuring me with a demanding look. “I’m coming to your house that day to make sure you actually went. If you chicken out, I’m going to kick your ass.”
A laugh pops out of my mouth, while at the same time, there’s an inexplicable twitch at the base of my dick.
“Duly noted.”
While we make our way to our gate and wait for our flight to board, I feel two totally contrasting emotions. I want to put some distance between me and Harper after that kiss, but at the same time, I feel an almost physical pull toward her. The pull I really feel is on my eyes, toward those lips that I just pressed mine against. It’s a gargantuan battle for my will to keep my eyes from flitting in their direction, and it’s a battle I lose more than once before we line up to board.
Luckily, we’re not sitting next to each other on the flight home.
While we jet through the sky back to America, I think about exactly what I’m going to say to Bryce when I see him. I run through all the possibilities in my head of how he’s going to take me showing up in his hospital room after all these years.
As much as I wish I could say otherwise, that’s not the only thing I’m thinking about.
I’m thinking about the kiss, too.
18
SEBASTIAN
My footsteps are loud on the hospital linoleum as I walk down the cold, sterile hallway to Bryce’s room.
When I told Coach I needed to take another whole day away from practice after coming back from France, with the opening game of the season even closer now, he looked at me like I must have lost my mind. But when I told him the purpose, he allowed it.
My nerves are frayed as I turn a corner, getting that much closer to seeing my best friend for the first time in over four years.
I couldn’t blame him if he just tells me to fuck off. It’ll hurt. But at least I won’t carry this guilt with me anymore. At least I’ll have closure: a clean cut setting me free from the past.
But I don’t want to be free of the past. I don’t want a clean cut from a friendship that meant as much to me as any relationship I’ve had in my life.
My chest clenches when I look down the hall and see Bryce’s mom.
His family were always good to me. I wonder what Bryce told them to explain why we stopped hanging out, when we used tosee each other every day, or damn close to it. I wonder what they think of me. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s nothing good.
His mom turns to me. Surprise spreads over her face. My stomach gets tighter.
“Sebastian,” she says. “Oh my gosh. It’s so nice to see you.”
The hard knot in my throat loosens a bit at her words.
“Hi, Mrs. Newman.” Fuck, how long has it been since I spoke those words? I feel like a kid again with them just on my lips.
“You came to see Bryce.” She says it with a smile, like she’s so glad I have.
