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“Hey,” he says, moving to sit beside me, concern etching his brow. “What’s wrong? I’ve known you a long time, and I know that shrug. Forget everything that’s happened in the last few days. You can talk to me.”
I sit there, eyes still on the horizon, the warmth of my best friend soaking into my side, and all I want to do is cry.
My life may not have been perfect before Bodhi, but it had some order to it. Letting him in has just mixed everything up. I feel pulled in every direction, stretched too thin to be as strong as I need to be. My judgment, too clouded by anger and betrayal and doubt. By his warmth and his light and that fiery personality.
I can’t think straight. I’m so angry. With Bodhi, his dad, Mateo, the bank, with Sander, but mostly with myself. For letting him get me off track. For trusting that he was going to just stand by and let me have my way. I knew better. Bodhi isn’t the type of person to stand by and watch a person struggle. I saw that the night of the accident when he took the blame with the cops. And again, when he followed through on repairing my car. When he lent me his to drive in the meantime.
Bodhi would never just stand there and watch a person fight to climb out of the hole they got themselves into. Struggling to reach for handhold after handhold, only to slip and fall back to the bottom. He’d be the first one to reach in and grab your hand, pulling you to safety, even if it meant dirtying himself up in the process.
He’s such a good person, and he means well, but I don’t want him involved and he refuses to listen. I know it’s because he cares about me, but sometimes I wish he didn’t. I’m afraid that I’m only going to drag him down with me in the end, and he’s too good for that.
I’m still mad that he lied, but I know in his heart it was with good intention. It doesn’t change the fact that he just stirred the pot, and I’m going to have to deal with it.
“K, what’s going on in there?” San asks again when I don’t answer.
“It’s nothing,” I say and stand, brushing the sand from my jeans.
He follows suit and turns to face me.
“Are you sure?” He asks again.
I reach up and swipe away tears before they fall, refusing to break down at a moment like this. I need to get my shit together before it’s too late.
“I’m good, okay?” I say.
“No, you’re not. I wish you would just talk to me, like we used to,” he says, apprehensive.
I sniff, turning toward the water as another flash of lightning fills the sky. A cruel reminder of my character.
“I can’t,” I say, voice cracking.
“Did he hurt you?” San asks, an edge to his tone.
I roll my eyes, because of course that’s where his mind goes. “No, San. Bodhi didn’t hurt me. We broke up,” I inform him, ready to end this conversation and just go back home.
“Really? Why?” he asks, sounding a little too hopeful for my taste.
“It just didn’t work out, so I ended it,” I say, shrugging lazily.
San steps forward, drawing me into a hug, but this time I just stand there and let him. I don’t embrace him back. I don’t sag into his chest. I just let it happen, because the faster he’s done, the faster I get to leave.
“I didn’t want to say anything when the whole boyfriend thing came up, but I knew it wasn’t going to work out,” he says, and something about that pisses me off.
Pulling back, I look up at him, brows creased.
“He doesn’t know you, Keaton. Not like I do. He can’t be there for you like I can,” he says, smiling down at me, his chest rising and falling faster now.
“San?” I ask, worried that he’s about to say something he won’t be able to take back.
Instead, he doesn’t say anything. He reaches out, hand circling around my neck, and pulling my mouth to meet his.
I freeze. The feeling of Sander’s lips over mine is all wrong. It takes me a moment to gain my senses, and I reach up, placing my hands on his chest and shoving him back.
“What the fuck?” I yell.
As if things weren’t fucked up enough already, I get to add this to the list.
“Keaton, I—”
