Page 52 of Stealing Summer
One of the girls draped herself over his shoulder. “Who’s your friend, Boston?” she purred.
I frowned. But before I could say anything more, the girl next to Boston grabbed him and they disappeared into the crowd, leaving me standing there alone and confused. What was going on with him?
Later, I wandered back into the quieter kitchen for a break. And there was Reese, leaning casually against the counter, swirling a freshly made drink. Our eyes met.
“Hey,” he said, sounding defeated. An awkward tension hung between us, and I still hadn’t responded to his calls or texts since the ball. I shifted my weight, unsure of what to say. Reese took a sip of his drink.
“Some party, huh?” His signature smirk appeared, but it seemed half-hearted. I nodded mutely. I missed the excitement of what summer was supposed to be—easy, fun. Not this mess of complicated emotions. When others started to crowd into the kitchen, I slipped back into the crowd, more confused than ever. A part of me expected Reese to follow me, to demand we talk, but he didn’t and I can’t blame him. I had been avoiding him, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of that right now.
It wasn’t until later that evening that I finally ran into Boston again. He sat sprawled on the patio couch as a girl giggled on his lap, her hands entwined in his shirt as if she were claiming territory, while two others sat by closely, their bodies pressed against his side, all of them wanting his attention. There was never a shortage of girls around here—-throwing themselves at the players, hoping to catch their eye. Boston was basking in the attention and drunk—there was no mistaking the sloppiness of his movements or the way he laughed at their jokes that probably weren’t even funny.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said to myself, feeling a surge of frustration. I marched over, my resolve hardening with each step, and I reached out to grasp his arm. “Boston, we need to talk.” I raised my voice over the girls he was with.
He blinked, his focus shifting as he tried to make sense of my presence. The girl on his lap pouted, “Hey! Where are you taking him?”
“He’ll be right back,” I shot back, not caring for the sharp glares the trio sent my way.
“Alright, alright,” he relented, though he cast a regretful glance back at the girls as I led him away from the couch. They huffed in unison, their annoyance showing, but I didn’t give them a second thought. Whatever was going on with Boston, whatever had driven him to this point, we were going to hash it out.
“Tell me what’s going on with you,” I demanded, the words punctuated by the pulsing music that I could still hear playing nearby.
Boston chuckled, a hollow sound that almost seemed forced. “You wouldn’t want to know.” His gaze flicked away, then back, in a challenge. “Last time I told you how I felt, you blew me off.”
I stared at him, incredulous, and in a swift motion pulled the half-empty cup from his hand. The liquid sloshed over the sides, but I barely noticed. “I didn’t blow you off,” I countered, feeling an anger boil in my chest.
“Didn’t you?” He arched an eyebrow. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you did.”
“That’s not what it was,” I said, my voice softening despite myself. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say you liked me since I was five years old, Boston. I’ve always had this stupid crush on you. I always hoped—hoped so badly—you’d see me as more than just Parker’s little sister.”
His features softened too, the lines of tension easing as he took in my words. There was a vulnerability there that I’d never seen before, a raw honesty that made him seem less like the carefree athlete and more like the boy next door I grew up with.
“Well, look at that.” Boston’s voice had an edge of exasperation as he reached for the cup in my grasp. “You never said a word about how you felt, either.” His hand closed over mine, skin warm against mine as he held it there for a moment.
Then he shook his head, tugging the cup free with an effortless pull. “Just leave me alone, okay? Let me deal with shit how I want.” The warmth had vanished from his tone, replaced by a cold dismissal that stung worse than I expected.
"You don't have to deal with anything alone. I want to be there for you." I took a breath, hoping to persuade him. "Let's get out of here, and you can tell me what's going on."
For a split second, I thought I saw something vulnerable flash in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Nah, I'm good," he replied with a casual shrug.
I hadn't expected him to push me away so easily, so effortlessly. He glanced around the backyard, his gaze flickered through the crowd. "Isn't Reese around here somewhere? Isn't that who you really want?"
The question stung with a bitterness that was unfamiliar coming from Boston.
"I didn't even think things with you were a possibility, and then you told me at the worst time." My voice sounded more desperate than I'd intended, but I needed him to hear me out.
"I'm not in the mood for these excuses tonight." He cut me off, and the blue in his eyes seemed to darken more with each word. "Just leave me alone."
“Fine,” I whispered, stepping back as if his words had physically pushed me.
He turned away without looking back. The girls erupted into giggles and squeals as he approached, their arms reaching out to reclaim him. Boston slumped down between them, forcing a smile as he lifted his cup in a salute before downing its contents.
I stood there, watching, feeling like I was five years old again—on the outside, looking in. Except this time, I knew Boston wasn’t going to come to my rescue with fireflies in the backyard. Those days were gone, and maybe the old Boston was gone too.
After a while, I noticed Boston drank more than he could handle and my gaze flickered around until it landed on Parker, who was chatting with a group of friends a few feet away. I called out, “Parker! A little help here!”
He excused himself and jogged over, concern etching his features as he took in the worry on my face. “What’s going on?”
“He’s had too much to drink,” I said, looking over at Boston. “Can we get him home?”