Page 10 of Before You
SHE’S HERE.
Marley is at Beaumont, but she’s withTrent.
I look at where Trent is sitting, drinking his beer without a care in the world. It takes everything in me not to punch him in the face. He’s cheating on her—multiple times as far as I know. The football team arrived two weeks ago, and in that time, I’ve seen him with at least three different girls.
I didn’t think anything of it until Asher told me he had a girlfriend. My plan was to let the girl know he’s cheating on her, but I didn’t realize it would be Marley.
My Marley.
There was a part of me afraid I had put her on this pedestal she’d never be able to live up to if I did find her, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth today. She’s everything I remembered, and more.
My hands ball into fists in my lap, because I don’t know what to do. Obviously, I know I should tell Marley. I almost did tell her when she asked if we could be friends, but I’m worried it’s going to seem like I’m only doing it so she’ll be with me.
I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.
Fuck, I need to get out of here.
I get up from the couch, making my way to my room without saying anything. What the hell would I say?Sorry you’re a piece of shit, Trent?Well, I know what I’m not apologizing for—I’m not sorry for being in love with her.
I grab my prescription, popping a pill quickly to swallow it dry. My plan is to run as long as it takes for me to decide what the right thing to do is. My knee is still sore from practice, despite the fact I took my meds beforehand.
Slipping into my running shoes, I grab my headphones before jogging down the stairs.
“Didn’t run enough at practice, Walker?” Luka asks, as I pass by the living room. His eyebrows are raised, looking at me like I’m insane for going running after the grueling practice we had in the heat earlier, where I did nothing but run routes the entire time.
“Guess not.” I shrug, walking out without sparing a look at Trent.
I put my headphones in and turn my music up as loud as it will go before taking off down the street, losing myself to the music pulsing in my head, and the feeling of my feet striking the pavement.
~
I feel like a creeper, sitting in the café, watching this girl across the street.
She’s been looking around for the last ten minutes, even spinning around a few times, but I can’t tell if she’s lost. What I do notice, even from a distance, is she’s cute.
Fuck it. I’m going to help her.
I walk up rather easily as she stares at her phone, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion while trying to decipher whatever’s on her screen.
“Excuse me, are you lost?” I ask in French, trying to come across as non-threatening as possible. It’s a little hard to do when I tower over most people at six four, and I’m built like a tank from training for football.
Her head snaps up, and I’m instantly ensnared by the color of her eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes this shade of blue before. Her nose is petite, her lips full, but it’s her eyes that are truly captivating.
Cute is the wrong word to describe her. She’s beautiful.
A flush of red crawls up her neck, and she laughs. “I think so? My mom’s friend gave me the address to this artist’s house, but I can’t find the street. I must have gotten turned around somewhere,” she stammers, and I wrack my brain trying to think of anyone in town she might be talking about.
“Are you talking about Madame Bellefleur?” I ask and she smiles brightly.
My.
Lungs.
Stop.
Breathing.
“Yes! Do you know her?” she asks, and I wish I could respond, but my brain isn’t functioning. I think she might be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. Her eyes narrow, her smile fading as I gawk at her, deciding I’ll do anything to earn another smile from her. “Hello?”
