Page 126 of Only Ever You

“I guess it’s safe to say Sienna lied to me. A lot.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I believed her. About the kiss. About the dance. About…” She trails off, face turned away.

My chest tightens in sympathy. It’s got to be hard for her, but I appreciate her willingness to open up.

“When I came to school to say goodbye, I found Cade and Ash, but I still thought…maybe I’d see you. Maybe we’d talk. I hoped we would.”

Her eyes flick up to mine. They’re teary again, a deep sadness swimming there. A shiver dances down my spine. Whatever she says next won’t be good. I just know it.

“I ran into Sienna instead. She made it sound like you hated me. Like you blamed me for your hand just like everyone else did. Like you hadn’t stood up for me when the whole school was against me.” She sniffles. “I’m ashamed to say it, but I believed her.”

My stomach drops.

“I wish you hadn’t.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “But I get why you did.” Head bowed, I squeeze the back of my neck. “Ash was right; I should’ve told you everything. When I saw that video, I lost my mind. Was I still angry with you then? Yeah. But there was no way I’d ever be okay with someone hurting you.”

Lips parted, she searches my face, a lone tear tracking down her cheek.

“I dealt with it. The video was gone the same day. The guys who messed with you never would’ve touched you again, and they promised they wouldn’t let anyone else either. But no one knew the video was taken down because of me. I thought you wanted me out of your life. I thought you wanted me gone.”

“I’m sorry, Michael,” she whispers, tears streaming now. “If I’d just talked to you⁠—”

“Hey.” I move closer. “And I should’ve talked to you. We both messed up.”

She nods faintly, looking away and blotting at her face.

“The moment we stopped talking…” I exhale. “That’s when we fell apart.”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “It is.” She worries her bottom lip, her gaze fixed on the tray.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “For not checking on you after your concussion. For missing your birthday.” My throat tightens, making it nearly impossible to force the next words out. “I was a really shitty best friend. I was so focused on my own hurt, I didn’t stop to think about what you were going through.”

She clears her throat. “I was focused on my own hurt too. We were a lot alike.”

“How did you celebrate your sixteenth birthday?” I pull back and use my thumb to wipe at her cheeks. “You always had so many plans.”

Her eyes fill with tears again, breaking my damn heart. I take her mug, setting it and mine on the tray and moving the whole thing to her desk. Then, I drop back onto the bed and haul her to my chest, holding her tight.

She presses herself to me, her face in my tee. “I didn’t plan anything.” Her words are muffled, her face buried. “I was waiting for us to make up. To be friends again. It worked out in the end anyway. After my concussion, I couldn’t go anywhere loud or crowded. My family had a nice dinner and some cake. That’s it. Meg was with us, actually.” She hiccups, her shoulders trembling. “That night, she asked me if you’d wished me a happy birthday,” she whispers, “and I lied. I didn’t want to admit my best friend was so angry with me, he wouldn’t even speak to me on my birthday. Or, worse—that he forgot about it altogether. But my answer appeased her. She said if you hadn’t, she’d have whooped your ass when she got home.”

Snorting, I cling to her tighter. “You shouldn’t have lied. I deserved that ass-whooping and so much more.” I lean away and look down at her tearstained face. “I’m sorry, Isla. For everything. For being an asshole. For hurting you. I swear, I’ll never do that again. Never. You’re too important to me.”

She licks her lips. “Thank you.”

We sit quietly, not moving, not talking. The warmth of her body seeps into mine, setting my skin ablaze. This proximity messes with me because despite how soothing her presence is, my heart beats as if I’m running a marathon.

“Only you have this effect on me.” She nuzzles her face into the hollow of my neck.

“What effect?”

“You make me feel safe. Like we’re eight again, and the world can’t touch me.”

Chin tucked, I push a few wild locks behind her ear. “I wasn’t with you when I should’ve been.”

A small smile tips her lips. “You’re here now. That’s what matters, not the ghosts of our past. We can’t change what’s already happened, so we might as well move on.”

“Have you always been this smart?”

“I’m a genius. Didn’t you know that?”

Head thrown back, I laugh. “Right.”