“There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell we’re letting you just roll over.”
I shake my head. “You guys aren’t going to fuck up your futures for me. You have scouts watching, and you know that Brighton can put together a new team tomorrow. Don’t fool yourselves and think they’re going to care about us—they care about the win-loss record.”
Lincoln moves his attention to Pax, his jaw flexing. The two share a bond that has weakened since Lincoln began dating his sister, but at times like this, it’s easy to see it still exists. “We’ve got this. You’re not leaving.”
I shake my head, knowing it’s useless to have this conversation. Lincoln, like myself, always wants to have the last word, and right now, I don’t have the energy to make him see beyond what he’s imagining is justice—a definition that seemingly blurs far too easily.
I take another swig.
Olivia
The plane ride from Seattle to Austin is just under four hours. I spend that time wishing I journaled or did something—anything—that was capable of taking my mind off the spinning thoughts of last night.
I wait for guilt and regret to catch up to me, certain they’re going to attack at any moment and have me struggling to make sense of my feelings.
Their absence leads to a new set of questions—thoughts of what will happen when I get back? If these feelings between Arlo and me are genuine or if it’s only because he’s staying with us that he’s in my bed. Or could it be because he genuinely believes I’m bringing him good luck? He hasn’t mentioned it in a few days, but he was so adamantly sure I was the reason bad luck had remained at bay.
“Olivia!” Sophia yells my name as I make it to the baggage claim.
My smile brightens, the turbulence I’ve been feeling wanes as I crash into Sophia. There’s comfort in being with someone who knows you—knows the ins and outs of your history, the awkward stages you overcame, the crushes you once harbored, the fears you overcame—it’s as though they know more than just who you are but who you’ve been and are capable of being.
“Your hair is so long,” she says, running her fingers over the length that I carefully curled and sprayed this morning in an attempt to look like the same put-together version of myself I always aspired to be. I regretted the extra forty-five minutes it took me from Arlo and Rose this morning. It’s only been a few hours since I’ve seen them, and yet I can feel the distance. Like the two-thousand-and-one-hundred-odd-miles can be felt in my soul.
“I’ve missed you,” I tell her, hugging her again.
“I want to hear everything new. And tomorrow, everyone is getting together at Brick Pies,” she tells me, mentioning the old pizza restaurant we used to frequent as a group. “You aren’t going to believe how much some people have changed. Do you remember Jacob Boley?”
I want to roll my eyes and remind her that I’ve known Jacob Boley since he ate paste and had to bring an extra pair of pants to school because he was a nervous test taker in the second-grade and would wet his pants whenever our teacher put him on the spot. I was there when he grew up and into the moniker “Boley the bully,” and girls who once giggled behind his back began fawning at his feet.
“Yeah,” I say instead, ending my trip down memory lane.
“He’s balding. He basically has a cul-de-sac on his head. I heard he’s about to propose to Kristy because he’s getting self-conscious over it.”
“Too bad he’s not getting self-conscious about being a jerk.”
Sophia laughs. “Isn’t that the truth?”
“Oh, and Mary Kate is pregnant.” She reaches her hands in front of her stomach as though to draw an invisible pregnant belly.
“I didn’t know she was dating anyone?”
She nods. “Ricky B.”
“Really?”
“For like two years now.”
“I had no idea.”
Sophia grins. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you up on everything before we get to dinner tomorrow. Oh, and Matt’s coming.”
My feet feel like they’ve tripped over her words. I knew I’d see Matt while on this trip—planned to see him because regardless of what happens between Arlo and me, I know things can’t continue with Matt—not in the manner they have for far too long. I dust myself off by straightening my shoulders and lifting my chin higher. “Good for him.”
She glances at me. “He still cares about you, you know. He’s just got so much attention since becoming