Kelsie picked at an errant string in her project and pursed her lips. “What does Saxon have to say about the whole thing?”
I could feel my ears burn like they were on fire. “Saxon says that Jake still loves me and always will. He says he can tell I’m still thinking about him, even when we’re together.”
I focused on Kelsie’s hands, palms down on the crafts table, and it took me a minute to look up into her face. “Saxon said that?”
“Yes.” I felt humiliated and stupid and like every single decision I’d made in the last few weeks was so wrong, I should have been walking around like a social pariah. What had I done?
The soft slide of Kelsie’s fingers covered my knuckles as she pulled my hand into hers. “I’m sorry it’s all so fucked up right now, Bren. But I think you just need to be really honest with yourself and stop beating yourself up. You’re allowed to screw up. You’re allowed to make big, colossal mistakes. Trust me, Jake and Saxon kind of have to understand that, right? Aren’t they, like, the kings of screwing up? Big time?”
She was right. And she was so wrong. I didn’t want to make big, colossal mistakes, and I didn’t really feel like I should be allowed to. Because while I was thinking about what Iwanted and what Ineeded, I was leaving disaster in my wake. Jake and Saxon, two people I cared about more than almost anyone else, were getting hurt, and it was stupid, heartless, immature, and spineless of me. Every move I made, every path I chose seemed to cause more chaos, and I couldn’t wrack my brain and figure out what would make it all better, once and for all. I had never encountered a problem I couldn’t find the solution to before. And I’d never imagined I’d be the cause of so much hurt. It sucked, and I wanted to fix it. Scratch that; I neededto fix it.
That point got driven home when I saw Saxon, an easy, happy smile stretched on his face as he fell into step by my side, ready to walk me to gym. Running didn’t help me figure anything out either, no matter how hard or how mercilessly I pushed myself. My lungs sucked air in and gasped it out like a bellows, and I finally doubled over on the track, then staggered to a tuft of grass where I threw up.
Coach Dunn jogged over and thumped me on the back. Saxon came flying down from the soccer field and ignored his coach’s yells and Coach Dunn’s reassurance that she had it all under control.
“Overdo it, Blixen?” she barked.
I spit and grimaced at the sour taste in my mouth. Saxon yanked a container of orange TicTacs out of his pocket and shook a few into his hand. He held them up to my lips, and I ate them awkwardly, trying not to lick his smoky-smelling palm.
“Thanks,” I groaned.
“Maclean, it’s all good here,” Coach Dunn said roughly. When she looked at his face, her voice softened. “She’ll be fine.”
“Should I walk her to the nurse?” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and looked so worried, it shot through my heart like a shard of glass.
“No!” I shook my head. “I just overdid it. I think I was a little dehydrated. Maybe I’ll just sit on the bench for a few?”
Coach Dunn nodded, and Saxon narrowed his eyes at me, then pointed two fingers at his eyes and flipped them in my direction. “I’ll be watching. You get back on that track, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the nurse no matter what anyone says.” He gave Coach Dunn a grudging nod and jogged back to his waiting team.
Coach Dunn put a hand on my shoulder.
“Maybe if I feel better, I’ll just do a couple of slow laps?” I looked up into her tanned face, desperate for her to tell me I didn’t have to sit on this bench with only my guilt-heavy thoughts to keep me company.
She shook her head. “That’s just junk miles, Blixen. A waste of your time and your energy. You’ll ruin your pace, you’ll wear down your strength. If you’re going to run, run with purpose, at full health.”
“Junk miles?” I mulled the word over as I watched Coach pace back to the track and listened to the swish of her track suit. That’s exactly what I felt like I was doing, and not just on the track. I was just logging in slow, useless miles, not sure where I was going or why I was even running.
I watched Saxon tear across the field, his feet so quick and sure, and my stomach heaved again. What was I doing? He was a good person. And I was using him. My clammy hands shook, and I wished as hard as I could for the irritating shriek of the bell that would end this period. I wished for the end of this miserable day. I wished for a solution, a trip back in time, a way to make the right decision without ruining everything for everyone I cared about.
I stared at the food during lunch. No matter what I looked at in the cafeteria, it made my stomach churn like a washing machine. Saxon kept adding things to my tray with determination, but I lifted them back off and shook my head.
“You look like you’re about to pass out. Let me take you to the nurse.” He slid his hand under my hair and around the back of my neck, and his fingers kneaded the space between my neck and shoulder.
“I have a big project due in graphic design, and I can’t get the shadowing right on this new program. I have to go in.” I swallowed hard and picked up a banana and a carton of milk.
Saxon chewed on the side of his lip. “You doin’ this project with Jake?” He worked way too hard at keeping the words even.
I paid for my lunch and kept a good yard in front of him. “No, not with Jake. Not that it should make a difference to you.” I collapsed into the orange plastic chair and attempted to choke down some food. The milk was watery and lukewarm, and the urge to vomit took over again. The banana was soft and bruised, overly sweet and squishy. It was like the world was conspiring to keep me puking all day long.
“No difference to me?” He folded a spork in half and twisted its plastic neck violently. “What’s going on between you and me, exactly?”
I stood up and swayed like I was on a boat. “I gotta go.”
I hit a solid wall of Saxon. “Where?”
“Tech. I told you. I’ve got a project.” My empty stomach and crushing headache made my reflexes sluggish. I tried to duck and weave, but he was way quicker.
“You aren’t riding there.” It was an absolute command.
I had a foggy thought that Saxon should join the army. I had a second, clearer thought that he’d either become the youngest general ever or go completely AWOL.
I looked up into the swirled gold of his eyes and at the tight pinch of his mouth. I pressed one hand against his arm to turn him, and breathed easier when the current of air that wafted towards me didn’t smell so deliciously like Saxon. “I appreciate it. I do. But you don’t have any business telling me what I can and can’t do.”
“This isn’t a pissing contest, Blix. You look like shit. Seriously.” He glanced at the lunch monitors, busy with a head-on double-tray goulash collision. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you.”
I would have said no just to avoid the question he’d asked and I’d dodged, but I did feel kind of shaky, and my pathetic lunch hadn’t made up for all I’d chucked in gym. We walked silently to the lot, avoiding the office and the two hall monitors busy grading papers. The silence deepened in the car until it felt like we were avalanched in it.
He didn’t even look up when we pulled in at Tech. It was like his steering wheel suddenly held all the secrets of the universe and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Pop the trunk?” As small as I tried to curl my voice, it was still deafening.
“I’m coming to pick you up. We’ve got a date, remember?” He felt around for his cigarette pack, then drummed his fingers hard on the dashboard.