chapter twenty-five
“Be the bigger man, even if it means you look like a complete tool. I’ve been the bigger man all my life. Now look at me… total tool, but alas, I got the girl.”
~From Max Emory’s Guide to Dating and Other Important Life Lessons
Jason
It was a warm summer night. Everyone was in the house cooking, drinking wine, and hanging out.
My foot still throbbed, but other than that, I wasn’t really feeling any pain.
Maybe it was because of Maddy.
Maybe it was the pool.
Or maybe it was just that all of my friends were back in one place, Max not included.
Or maybe…
I eyed her bedroom window.
How many times had I crawled up the side of the house and stolen a kiss? Or just held her while we slept in her bedroom?
Her light was on.
I imagined her lying on her back, on her favorite white down comforter, and staring up at the fake stars I’d put on her ceiling.
One for every twinkle I’d seen in her eyes.
Meaning, I’d stuck three hundred stars up above her.
And made her swear never to take them down. Were they still there? Staring down at her? Protecting her when I couldn’t?
My gut clenched. I had no idea what I was doing. The anger was still simmering, but every time I tried to grasp it, it was almost as if it had turned from something liquid to steam, rising through my fingers until I was left with nothing.
My pride had stung when she’d left.
My heart had broken in pieces when she’d chosen him.
Levi Tice hadn’t been back in town for years, but I still remembered the day he’d gotten in trouble with the law. I had not only arrested him for public drunkenness, but had jabbed a few good hits in — pure self-defense.
“The great Jason Caro!” he slurred. “Hey, weren’t you supposed to go to some big school? Play ball? Did the lure of donuts hold you back? Or were you just waiting for Maddy? She ain’t coming, man. Trust me. That girl was meant for bigger things than a washed-up quarterback.”
Each word had been like a punch to the gut.
I’d actually chosen to do online courses and go to the police academy because it had been an actual passion — and because passions changed. I’d loved football, but I’d known I could never make a career out of it, and my body was already seeing the effects of seven different concussions. So, I’d made a choice.
From the outside, maybe it had appeared that I was waiting for her.
Maybe, I’d never stopped.
I checked the clock on the wall. Eight-thirty on the dot.
With a deep breath, I moved through the house and opened the front door. The sticky summer heat smelled like barbecues and beer. Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I slowly limped toward her house.
Maddy was already there, waiting.
And she was on her knees, drawing a pink chalk line across the cement like we used to do.