"Where'd she go?" Zach asked, popping his head through the doorway. Corbyn didn't respond, instead pulling up the text Maeve had sent him an hour before and walking over to show it to him.
Corbyn: Are you alright? Everything okay?
Maeve: Yeah. Headed down to the pool for laps.
Corbyn had watched her slide off the window sill and check her phone. He didn't think anything of it, figuring it was her best friend, Jess, but watched as her features froze. Not long after that, she left the room without a word. He'd known her for years, and he knew she swam laps as a stress outlet. Though he'd been worried, he needed to give her space for awhile before checking in.
The boys had just started moving to their own rooms for the night and Zach stopped by Maeve's room to say goodnight. When she didn't answer to his knock, he went to Corbyn.
"Swimming laps isn't what she does when she's particularly okay," Corbyn told Zach, who glanced up at the taller boy with a serious expression.
Corbyn was not oblivious. He could see the concern in his friend's eyes, and already knew that he cared about her.
"Why don't you go down and make sure she's okay," he said.
Zach just looked at him, quickly wondering why he wanted to send him instead of going himself. He didn't dwell on it for too long.
"Just be aware that you still need to sleep tonight," Corbyn added.
"Yeah, okay," Zach muttered, already turning on his heel to leave the room.
***
Water stung Maeve's eyes and splashed into her mouth as she pulled her arm up next to her head and gasped in a breath on the opposite side.
Stroke, stroke, stoke, breath.
Anger coursed through her veins, motivating her to push herself harder, move faster, strike her hands through the water at a sharper angle.
She neared the wall of the outdoor hotel pool, flipped underwater, and kicked off of the concrete to propel herself in the other direction.
Stroke, stroke, stroke, breath.
How dare he. He didn't bother to show up when she left home, he didn't care about their past, he didn't care what she felt or how she was doing. All he wanted was to feel wanted and desired by any girl at every moment of his life, and when all of his options ran out, he finally turned to her.
She was sick of it.
Stroke, stroke, stroke, breath.
She swam laps for what seemed like an eternity. She swam until her eyes were stinging from the chlorine and her chest was heaving for deep breaths and her shoulders and thighs were burning from the constant exercise.
Finally, even her frustration couldn't sustain her anymore, her body exhausted from the exertion. At the end of that lap, she hoisted herself up on the ledge of the pool by her arms.
She stayed there awhile as water lapped in tiny waves against the small of her back, taking shaky breaths and forcing tears away. She never cried while she was working out, but afterward was no guarantee.
When she felt she'd finally composed herself, she lowered down in the water. She didn't want to go back up to her room, knowing she wouldn't sleep; she'd rather stay awake under the dark sky than stay awake in an empty room.
Glancing up at the line of plastic chairs near the pool steps, she nearly screamed. Zach was sitting there, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward, looking at her.
She let out a breath, recovering, though she didn't say anything to him. She felt vulnerable, unaware of how long he'd been there, but when she finally met his eyes again, she saw how worried he was and understood he wasn't judging.
The water formed gentle currents around her waist as she wade to the steps, ascending them without looking at the boy sitting a few feet away.
He handed her the towel she had set down in the chair beside him.
"Thanks," she said quietly. She wrapped it around her shoulders and sat next to him, pulling her legs up into the chair.
"I'm sorry," she said after awhile.
Zach had already been watching her out of the corner of his eye, but now he turned his head.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Mae."
She nodded a little.
"I didn't come down to make you talk—"
"No," she cut in, "I... I need to."
The faintest of smiles pulled at the corners of her lips.
"Kendra always told me I can't bottle up my feelings. I have to talk, even if I don't know what to say. Keeping it to myself isn't going to help anything."
Some time passed before she began.
"You know Jess. We both grew up in Fairfax, lived there our whole lives. We weren't in the same class in kindergarten, so I didn't technically meet her until first grade. Fast forward eleven years, and look at us now.
"She has a twin brother, Greyson. Everywhere she was, Grey was too. I... grew up with them. Everything from the games we played when we were children to leaving fifth grade and starting middle school; it was all together. Jess... she's been with me practically my entire life and she'll always be my best friend. But Grey...."
That was when her tone shifted from simple talk to something much more. There was pain here, and it was apparent in the way her gaze seemed to be swallowed up in the distance.
Zach watched, his heart breaking.
Her eyes watered as her nose tingled with pent-up emotion.
"Grey was everything," she finally said. "Grey was kindness and youth and joy, and... I just wanted to be with him. All the time. I was so drawn to him, even when we were kids."
Her trance seemed to break as she looked down at her lap, folding her hands together.
"So, me being me, I had feelings for him. When I was twelve, maybe, I realized it. I'd spent nearly every moment of my life with him and...."
She never completed that sentence.
"He was different in seventh and eighth grade. I wasn't a stupid kid. I knew teenage boys—and girls—change. Everyone's personalities aren't going to be the same as they were when innocent children, but.... When we were out in public or at school, Grey started acting like we weren't close, sometimes flat out pretending he didn't know me at all. But then when it was just the three of us, or just me and him, everything was like it had been.
"So I took it to Kendra, as I did with everything, and she told me to be patient with him because he was getting older and trying to fit in with the other guys his age. And I knew that, so I tried to brush it off, but all of the sudden when we began highschool... I don't know, it was kind of a shocking wake up call how much he'd changed."
Her features were set as she began listing things off rapidly.
"He always said these awful things to Jess, and not just the typical sibling bickering either. It made me sick because she used to tell me he'd only say stuff like that when they were alone. But then he didn't care who heard, and I heard it way too often. Jess doesn't ever let stuff like that get to her, but he's her freaking twin brother, I mean come on—"
She halted abruptly, throwing her hands up in frustration.
Zach doubted she remembered he was there. In the months he'd known her, he'd never seen this side of her.
Her jaw clenched as she shook her head.
"Freshman year, there were rumors that he was going to parties, drinking, getting involved with girls. Older girls. Jess told me he was out of control at home, fighting with his parents—especially Anna—and sneaking out. There was no punishment that could keep him under control, nothing could be said to make him feel guilty for the destruction he was causing at home. And to himself."
She paused for a long while after that, staring out beyond the pool. The only sound to be heard was the soft breaking of water lapping against cement walls.
"By the time we were sophomores, he hadn't spoken to me in over a year. And that's when I stopped trying, too. I stopped trying to meet his eyes in the hallway at school, stopped saying hello to him when Anna picked us up, stopped trying to get him to open up and talk to me again.... And it seemed like that was it."
A humorless laugh left her mouth as she leaned her head back, closing her eyes.
"The thing about Grey is he has this desperate need to feel desired all the time. To feel wanted. Not loved exactly, but... seen. So he fell into this habit. When something ended with a girl he was talking to or whatever, when he had literally no other options, he'd text me. And after the first couple times, I noticed it was always the same word: just Hey. And everytime, I... I knew it would go the same way. We'd talk for a few days, maybe a week and then... he wouldn't answer. And weeks or months would passed before he'd be back again."
The tone of her voice was weak, but still laced with a sort of controlled anger.
"I knew a long time ago I didn't have feelings for him anymore, but... everytime, though I knew his intentions and I knew what would happen and I knew it would still hurt even when I told myself I'd just talk and not care, I still wanted that friendship with him back. I wanted to talk to him again."
Zach thought she might tear up again, but she just pulled her towel around her figure tighter and shifted in her chair.
"When I left Fairfax he didn't even come at the airport. And now, right now when I'm actually doing something with my life, he shows up again."
She inhaled, exhaled slowly.
"But I'm done. I stopped answering a couple months ago, and I'm done being his backup, his emotional punching bag, his person to hit up because I've always been there for him even when he didn't deserve it. Even when he treated me like a stranger until I was the last person he could turn to."
And with that, she'd finished.
Zach stared at her but she didn't meet his eyes.
He didn't know what to say. So there was silence.