Page 9 of Be Your Forever
“Anything,” I murmur.
“I need you to watch over her. I’m not getting the full story. From you, from my parents, and even from Cas and Avery. She used to always answer my texts and beg to hang out with me, so I know something’s going on. If I can’t be there for her, I need you to be. I trust you to take care of her, Ace.”
I know why you’re here. Max sent you. I don’t need your pity, Asher. I’m fine.
Well fuck. When I went to see Bri earlier, she accused me of doing exactly what Max just asked me to do. Damn. I already had every intention of helping Bri, before Avery or Max approached me about it. I know that if she decides to let me in, I’ll need to do a damn good job at convincing her that I didn’t help her out of obligation.
“Of course I’ll help her. But I’ll be honest, I’m not sure she’ll want my help. She can’t stand me.” I shrug it off like the hurt isn’t oceans deep, but we both know that’s bullshit.
“I don’t buy that. Bri just gives you a hard time because she hates herself for liking you.” Max smirks at me.
“You’re delusional, Max. What Bri feels for me is hatred.”
It wasn’t always this way between us. Bri and I got along great, joking and laughing with each other. I honestly thought our friendship would turn into something more, but then that stupid fucking high school party happened. We were flirting one minute, and then all of a sudden, she was giving me the cold shoulder. I’d give anything to time travel back to thatday and figure out what the fuck happened. Maybe one of these days I can ask her, but for now, helping Bri heal is my main priority.
“There’s a thin line between love and hate, my friend. And I’m leaning toward the former. I think it’s all an act. Hell, she—” His eyes bug out of his head, and he slams his mouth shut.
“Care to finish that sentence?” I tease.
Max just grins while shaking his head. “Nope. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Yeah, let me get right on that. I’m sure she’ll be 100% open with me.” I roll my eyes at him and bark out a laugh.
I so desperately want her to share her pain with me. I can only imagine how heavy the load is. Deep down beneath herleave me aloneexterior is my bear, craving the comfort she’s too embarrassed to ask for. As much as I want to have something more with her, that ship, for whatever reason, has long since sailed. But I can easily put my feelings aside for her. It’s not about me…It’s about her. Well, IthinkI can put these feelings aside.
Max and I continue to reminisce about the shit we got into when we were teens. After a while, I notice Max yawning more frequently—probably from a more intensive day of physical therapy—and I take that as my cue to leave. I tidy up his room before getting ready to leave. I’m at the bedroom door before I turn around and whisper, “She’s in good hands, Max. She’s like the sun, bathing people in her warmth. I’ll stop at nothing until she’s glowing like the goddess she is.”
Max is all but passed out, but IswearI hear him whisper,“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”
Bastard.
Brianna
Mourning the death of my teenage dream
Max: Hey, Breezy. Asher came to see me today and we talked about you a little. I know our parents and friends are hiding something from me. I just wish I could hear your voice again. See your face. I miss you, Bri. Please talk to me.
See?WetoldyouAsher was only there because of Max. You’re such a selfish person. Who doesn’t even go visit their own brother in the hospital? You can’t even text him back. He probably hates you, ya know. Everyone does.
Another unanswered text from my brother throws my anxious thoughts into a frenzy. They’re right. I couldn’t fathom sitting with him in the hospital, knowing I’m the reason he was there in the first place. It’s not like I didn’t try, though. I went to the hospital when I knew my parents wouldn't be there. Shoutout to Avery for her help—she didn’t ask for an explanation, she just did it. I rode the painfully slow elevator before standing in the fucking doorway, taking in the scene before me.
Cuts. Bruises. Scars. And tubes. So many goddamn tubes.
Then I ran. I ran to the nearest bathroom, withdrawing all the contents in my stomach into the toilet.
He’s in this hospital because of you. You survived with little damage while he’s in a coma.
Your fault.
Your fault.
All. Your. Fault.
I squeeze the doorknob, hoping the cool texture will shock me out of my toxic thoughts. I’m standing outside my office door for what feels like the millionth time, struggling to gain control over my anxiety. Everything feels so big. Everything hurts. I hear the faint buzzing of my intrusive thoughts in the corner of my mind, but I push forward.
Breathe, Bri. It’s just a room.Who cares if you and Max worked on building an entire wall of floor to ceiling bookshelves? You can do this.
The door creaks when I open it from the lack of use. The air smells stale, almost stiff. Can air smell stiff? I flip the light switch, watching as tiny dust particles glitter against the midday sun. It’s a breezy spring day, so I open the window to let in some fresh air. The sun hits my face, the wind whispering promises of a light at the end of the tunnel. Trees sway in the breeze, and if I listen closely, I can hear classical music coming from my neighbor’s house. What once used to drive me insane now provides a sense of security I didn’t know I needed. Tears prickle behind my eyes, but I wipe them away and return to the task at hand.
