Page 67 of The Summer We Played Pretend

"Can I… uh…" The sentence dies halfway out of my mouth because I have no idea how to finish it. What am I doing here?

"Did you need something specific, Jackson?" Mrs. Davenport asks gently, her head tilting just slightly.

"Uh, no. I mean, I just…" I clear my throat, heat crawling up my neck. "I just wanted to talk to her. About… stuff."

"Stuff," she repeats with a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. There’s a pause, heavy and awkward and I realize she must know something about the fight. "Well, I can let her know you came around if you’d like.”

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks," I mumble, taking a half-step back toward the stairs. "Sorry for bothering you."

"Not at all," she says quickly, but her eyes linger on me as I turn away, like she’s trying to read something in my face that I’m not ready to admit—not even to myself. “See you soon, sweetie,” she adds as I turn around.

“Sure,” I say with a tight smile.

By the time I make it down the porch steps, my chest feels tight, like someone’s cinched a belt around my ribs.

Chloe doesn’t want to talk to me. She’s probably told her mom to get rid of me if I turned up.

I’m halfway to my truck when I hear the sound of a door creaking open behind me. My hand freezes on the handle, and I know—I just know—before I even turn around.

"Jackson."

His voice is sharp, clipped. I close my eyes for half a second, trying to brace myself, but it doesn’t help. Turning slowly, I see Ethan stepping out onto the porch. He’s barefoot, wearing an old Elmwood High football t-shirt and sweats. His eyes are bruised and his nose is still swollen.

"Hey." The word comes out rough, like I’ve swallowed sand. I shove my hands in my pockets, trying to look less...guilty? Defensive? I don’t even know anymore.

He doesn’t move closer, just crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me. "What are you doing here?"

"Just…stopping by," I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal. Like I wasn’t just standing on his porch, asking for Chloe like some lovesick idiot. "Wanted to check on her."

"Check on her?" His eyebrows shoot up, and there’s this low laugh that doesn’t sound amused in the slightest. Ethan steps down from the porch, closing the distance between us. "You sure that’s a good idea?"

The air feels heavier now, thick and charged. I force myself to meet his gaze, even though I already know where this is going.

"Listen, man, I get it," I start, holding up a hand like I’m surrendering, even though every nerve in my body wants to push back. "I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all."

"Talk to her?" His voice rises slightly, and his jaw tightens. "After what happened?” He laughs. “After you punched me, you mean”?

"That was—" I bite the inside of my cheek, hard, until I taste copper. "That was a mistake, okay? And I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. But it wasn’t about you, Ethan. It was—"

"About Chloe," he finishes for me, his tone colder now. "Exactly. And that’s why I’m telling you—you need to stay away from her."

My stomach twists, but I try to keep my face neutral. "Ethan, come on. You know I care about her."

"Yeah,that’sthe problem." He takes another step closer, and now we’re only a few feet apart. His voice drops lower, almost like he’s trying to make sure no one else hears this but me. "You’ve been waiting around, hiding how you felt about her and then you leapt on her the first chance you got.” He smirks. “I bet you were really happy I didn’t come straight home for summer.”

“It was not like that at all.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jackson. I know you. I know what you’re like with girls. There’s no way you would have gone the distance with Chloe and she’s realizing that too.”

So that explains why she hasn’t called? I try to swallow past the tightness in my throat that feels like it might suffocate me.

“I only wanted to apologize,” I say, hating how damn feeble it sounds.

“The best thing you can do is stay out of Chloe’s life. Let her just have the summer with her friends and family and stop causing drama.”

I take a deep breath and eye Ethan’s bruised face. I recall Mel’s words and how Chloe looked at me as I swung my fist. I think about Chloe going to college and experiencing a whole life without me.

Who was I kidding when I thought this could ever work?

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