Say You Swear

“I have training in ten. Coach has some meetings, so my days all messed up. I have film after this and practice at four.”

“Sounds like a fun one for you.” I grin at the screen. “I’m on my way to a mandatory lecture about Endless possibilities here at Avix U.” I mimic the campaign speech my professor showed us today.

“Hey, you might just come out with a major,” Noah teases.

“That would be devastating, I already told you my life plan.” I laugh. “But bright side, this’ll be the easiest A I’ll ever get.”

“There you go.” He nods at someone as they walk into the locker room, facing the screen once more. “I should go before people start stripping.”

“Or you could leave me on the line.”

He shoots a little warning glare my way and I smile.

“Call me later?”

“You know I will.”

We hang up, and I push to my feet.

Heading into the lecture hall, I put my phone on silent, jumping when a hand reaches out, gripping onto my shoulders from behind.

I look up to find Chase.

“Hey.” I smile, but a frown quickly replaces it. “Don’t you have training right now?”

He shakes his head, falling in line beside me. “Nope. I have a check-in after this, to go over grades and shit, but nothing else until film.” He bumps his shoulder with mine. “Trust me, I tried to get out of this thing.”

“I bet.” I chuckle, then we’re quiet as we fall into the long line of students.

We take seats beside each other in the middle of the room, and for the next forty-five minutes, we listen to people talk about how the choices we make now will help shape our futures.

It’s kind of boring, borderline common sense, but they do introduce a ton of career options that aren’t necessarily spelled out in the course listings.

On our way out, I turn to Chase. “I’m meeting Cameron for a few minutes at the café, did you want to come?”

He nods, but then shakes his head, and stops in his tracks. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” I turn to face him.

“No, I mean can we talk, talk.” He stares pointedly. “About everything. About…”

He can’t even say the word ‘us,’ and I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to say it.

“I want to explain. Apologize,” he pushes on.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to.” I shake my head. “I don’t need to hear it anymore. I get it, I do.”

It’s the truth. The fact of the matter is I forgave Chase, for all of it. I don’t really know when it happened, but it did, and it’s not that he felt he needed forgiveness, I don’t know if he did or didn’t. It’s also not because he did something that should require my forgiveness, because that’s not necessarily the truth either.

We were consenting adults, both aware of what we were doing, both free of expectations and repercussions.

I knew in the back of my mind, he could never truly be mine. I’d known it all along, I just allowed myself not to care that night. He offered me something I had wanted for so long, and so with greedy hands, I accepted, consequences be damned.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when the high wore off and reality swept in with the morning tide, washing away the memory we made in the sand only hours before.

I was hurt, but that wasn’t on him; it was on me.

So I forgave him for me because I needed to. Because he’s my friend and having him in my life is important, for me and for my brother.

Rehashing everything now would be like opening a healed wound, and for what? I’ve moved on; he’s doing just fine, and our group is no longer suffering from our decisions.

“Let me try to make you understand where my head was at, and why I was an ass.” He reaches for my hand, but I only squeeze his, then pull it free.

“I already know why, Chase. I’ve known for years. I’m being honest when I say it’s okay. We are okay. Let’s just… let it go. Forget about it.”

I nod, holding his eyes with mine, and slowly, he nods back.

“I have to go, Cameron’s waiting on me.”

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat. “Tell her to call me. I have the notes she wanted for Psych.”

Agreeing, I rush off, finding Cameron already nestled into the counter booth, drinks and bagels waiting.

It’s late that night when my phone dings with a text, but it’s not from Noah as I suspected.

It’s from Chase.

Chase: what if I don’t want to forget it?

The air swooshes from my lungs, and my eyes slice to the ceiling.

Memories crash over me, creating a strain deep in my chest. I press against it to ease the ache and sweat beads along my neck.

This is ridiculous.

I don’t know why he’s saying this to me. I said my peace. I forgave him for me. He knows this. There’s no longer anger and sadness between us.

We’re fine.

I’m fine, better than, in fact. I’m fucking happy.

It’s not my business what runs through his mind when he’s alone. If he doesn’t want to forget, he doesn’t have to. It’s not like either of us really can.

Memories don’t die when the possibilities do. They morph into pain.

Pain you have to decide to feed or fight.

I chose fight.

And I won.

I have no idea what to say to him, so I say nothing at all.