With a bottle of beer clutched in my hand, I collapse onto one of the chairs arranged around the brick firepit and stretch my legs out in front of me. I twist off the cap and bring the bottle to my lips before taking a swig. It’s cold and refreshing, but does nothing to ease the growing ache in my chest.
The thought of Mia and Ari together makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve been focused on her for so long. Sometimes it seems like forever. How am I supposed to forget about her and move on? Is that even possible?
I guess I’m going to find out. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t force someone to like you who doesn’t.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow.
The noise of the party fades as I slouch on the chair and stare at the bright pinpricks of light that dot the clear night sky. Maybe I’ll hide out here for the rest of the evening. It’s not like anyone will miss me.
“Is this chair taken?”
I jerk out of my misery only to find Mia staring at me.
Even though my heart constricts, I shrug and wave a hand. “Be my guest.”
Carefully, she tucks her skirt beneath her before settling on the white Adirondack chair next to mine.
“Where’s Ari?” I wince at the bitterness that shoots out of my mouth.
Jeez.
Jealous much?
I might have known this girl my entire life, but she still has the strange ability to twist me up into little knots. It’s the most ridiculous thing and yet, all I want to do is be around her. She’s a brightly shining sun I find myself gravitating to.
Her eyes flicker to mine before darting away as her fingers twist nervously in her lap. “He’s in the tent dancing with your grandmother.”
“That sounds about right. Now that Nana has a brand-new hip, she’s back to shaking her booty like it’s the seventies.”
A tiny smile tips the corners of her lips. “I have to admit, she’s got some enviable moves. Everyone has formed a circle around her while she out-twerks your brother.” Mia pauses before adding, “My guess is that she’s had a few drinks.”
“Probably more than a few,” I chuckle. “Nana Betty loves her gin and tonics with a twist of lime. I used to make them for her all the time when I was a kid.”
“I remember.”
We fall into silence as Mia stares at her fingers.
Why is she here? She’s done everything humanly possible to avoid me this evening. And now, the moment I stop chasing her, she seeks me out? It makes no damn sense.
No matter how old I am, I will never understand girls.
They’re like the Bermuda Triangle.
Or a Rubik’s Cube.
Totally unsolvable.
When I can’t stand another moment of silence, I ask, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be partying it up?”
With Ari.
The guy she’s obviously interested in.
My lips twist with resentment as I pick at the bottle label with my thumbnail. There’s no doubt about it, I am in full-on sad bastard mode. She should leave before I jackhammer to an all new low and embarrass myself any further.
From the corner of my eye, I watch her fingers become more erratic. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect my presence made her nervous. But that’s wishful thinking on my part.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Me?
Really?
“Oh?” I can’t imagine why. Is this where she drops the bomb that she’s filing a restraining order against me. Nothing would surprise me at this point. “What about? Seems like you’ve been working really hard to avoid me all night.” Not to mention, the last couple of years. It might have taken me a while, but I finally got the memo.
Message received loud and clear.
Even though it’s dark, a blush hits her cheeks.
“You’re right,” she admits. “That’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”
Woah.
What’s going on here?
An actual acknowledgment?
I sit up a little straighter on my chair. “Are you going to tell me why?”
The sounds of the party fill the air between us, and I wonder if she’ll answer the question.
“I don’t want to be hurt again.”
Fuck.
She’s talking about what happened between us after senior year of high school. I took her virginity and told her that I wanted more. Then my dad got in my head and I backed out.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I never meant to hurt you.” I shake my head. “When I asked you out, I was serious.” I glance away and admit, “But I chickened out. Most of the time, I don’t think I’m anywhere near good enough for you.”
“Why would you say that?” she murmurs, voice filled with disbelief.
A bitter chuckle escapes from my lips. “How could I not? You’re amazing at everything and I’m,” I shrug, “me.”
“Beck,” she whispers.
I grow restless under the heaviness of her gaze. As much as I don’t want to have this conversation, it needs to be said. “It’s the truth. You could do so much better than a guy like me.” I’ve struggled with ADHD my whole life. The disappointment my father feels has chipped away at my self-esteem over the years. Maybe that’s not the image I project to the world, but it’s how I feel deep down inside.