the first time since they’d entered the kitchen. “A little focus is all I ask from you,” he said with a reproachful sigh. “I know you’re not worthless. I wish you’d stop acting like it.” And with that he stood and walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance.
It was quiet for a few seconds, the only sound being his father’s heavy footsteps fading down the hall, until Chase cleared his throat softly. “So…you want a sandwich?” he asked, turning back toward the fridge, his forced indifference pathetically transparent, even to him.
“No, I’m good,” Colin said softly. “You wanna just shower and get out of here?”
Chase didn’t answer. Instead he shut the fridge as he leaned over and grabbed his empty soccer bag, swinging it over his shoulder and walking briskly toward the stairs. He could hear the sounds of Colin following him, although he said nothing.
Chase walked past his room, throwing his bag haphazardly into the doorway as he continued down the hall to the linen closet, reaching in and grabbing two towels. He walked back toward Colin, tossing him one as he turned into his room.
“I’m sorry,” Colin said suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Chase forced a smile. “He would have found a way to make that point without your help. Don’t worry about it.”
Colin looked down, nodding softly as he turned the towel over in his hands. He was just about to turn and head toward the bathroom when he stopped and faced Chase again.
“Can you do me a favor?”
Chase looked up at him.
“Can you just try and remember how you were feeling ten minutes ago?”
Chase closed his eyes and laughed humorlessly. “I’m not gonna ruin your time tonight,” he said dryly. “Just leave it alone. I’ll be fine.”
Colin shook his head. “I could give a fuck about the party, Chase. Just humor me. Do you remember how you felt ten minutes ago?”
Chase pursed his lips, his eyes trained on the ground, and nodded slowly.
“Good,” Colin said. “Remember that feeling. Because as good as that felt, it’s gonna feel a hundred times better when you make something of yourself, in spite of that asshole.”
Chase raised his eyes just in time to see Colin smile softly; he banged on the doorframe twice with the side of his fist before he pushed away from it and walked down the hall to the bathroom.
They never spoke of that conversation again.
But Chase often wondered if Colin realized what he had given him that day. More times than he could even count, he found himself clinging to those words like a life preserver.
Sometimes they were the only thing that kept his head above water.
The sounds of movement on the other side of Andie’s door pulled Chase from the memory, and he blinked quickly, refocusing on the present.
He shouldn’t be here.
And just as that epiphany dawned on him, he heard the sounds of the deadbolt sliding aside as the door opened a crack. He could see the outline of her peeking out, and it felt like his heart stopped in his chest as the door finally swung open.
She stood there, her expression somewhat stunned.
“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly.
He had no idea what he was thinking, why he came there instead of just calling her. It was such a stupid move, he realized.
But he couldn’t leave again. Not until he made this right.
Chase took a breath, his eyes dropping for a second. “Last night,” he said, looking back up at her. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry again—”
“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off.
“No, it’s not,” he said with a shake of his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. I invaded your privacy, and I had no right—”
“I’m glad you did it,” she said, and he froze.
“You are?” he finally managed.
She nodded, her eyes on his. “Yeah…I mean…it’s ridiculous for me to spend all that time and effort on something and then never let anybody read it.” She glanced down, licking her lips before she looked back up at him. “And thank you. For being honest about everything.”
He stared at her for a second before he nodded, completely taken off guard. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy, for her to be so understanding of his blatantly insensitive behavior.
Chase stood at her threshold as another silence fell over them. There was nothing left to say, and yet there was everything left to say.
He should go now. He knew he should. He had served his purpose for coming. He