Wright that Got Away (Wright)

“Hollin,” Nora said, her voice soft.

But her brother wasn’t listening. “Hey, August!”

August turned at the sound of his name and then paled. He gulped and left his new team behind. “Hey,” he said with more confidence than he had to be feeling. He glanced from Hollin to Nora. “Hey, Nora.”

“Don’t fucking talk to her. You’re on the other team?”

“I didn’t know we were going to play you,” he told them. “Marni asked if I’d sub because they lost a forward. She didn’t tell me it was you guys.”

“I think you should fucking leave.”

“Hollin,” I snapped, stepping between him and the fight that was about to happen.

“Hey, Blaire,” August said with a steady gaze.

“Can you at least tell Tamara to go?” I asked.

His gaze shifted to Nora again, who looked ready to collapse in on herself. They’d been together for three years. And now, this shit.

He ran a hand back through his hair. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He looked to Nora again. “Nor, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she gasped.

“Please.”

“Stop it,” I said, pushing him backward. “Go back to where you belong.”

“I can’t do this,” Nora said. There were tears in her eyes as the words spilled from her mouth. “It’s not fair.”

Then, she grabbed her soccer bag and stormed from the fields.

“Fuck,” Hollin said.

The ref blew the whistle to let us all know the game was about to start. Campbell had already jumped up and was rushing after his sister. I grabbed Hollin’s shirt to keep him from going after her, too.

“Campbell has it handled. You have to play,” I told him.

Hollin looked away from his sister and pointed at August. “You’ll pay for that.”

Then, he jerked out of my grasp and stalked to his spot on the field.

“I didn’t know,” August repeated.

“And you think that makes it okay?”

“No,” he said with a sigh.

He looked so sad and pathetic. As if he realized he’d made one huge mistake in losing Nora, but he had no idea how to dig himself out of the hole.

I shook my head and took a small amount of pity on him. “Stay away from Hollin on the field. He won’t need an excuse.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said, touching his nose where Hollin had broken it. “Thanks, Blaire.”

“No, we’re not friends here. I just don’t want to see you die.” I looked him up and down. “You deserve all of this and more.”

16

Campbell

“Nora,” I called as I rushed off the bleachers and after my sister.

She was way past me, and I cursed myself for wearing black jeans in this Texas heat. I was heaving as I reached her. I was not cut out for running. A three-hour set under stage lights? Sure. Running? No.

“Nora, wait. Jesus, I can’t run like you.”

She slowed and swiped at the tears in her eyes. “God, you’re out of shape.”

“I’m really, really in shape for a musician.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You can barely run.”

“I lift weights,” I offered.

“You look pathetic.”

“God, I love having siblings,” I said as I caught my breath. “Running sucks.”

“I’m surprised you’re even here.”

“Can’t want to see my baby sister play?”

“No. You’re here for Blaire.”

“Yeah, okay. That’s true.” I slung an arm over her shoulders as we continued to her car. “But I can be worried for you. Should I go knock August on his ass?”

“No,” she said, her voice going small.

“He fucking deserves it. What is he even doing here? I thought you replaced him on the team.”

“We did. The captain of the other team invited him to sub. He said he didn’t know they were playing The Tacos.”

“So, why are you running? Tell him to get the fuck out. This is your team. He can’t run you off.”

“I can’t do it, Campbell,” she said, leaning back against her car. “I just can’t do it. I can’t pretend that I’m okay anymore. I had to move out of my apartment with Tamara. I lost my boyfriend and my best friend. I’m living with a stranger. I like Weston. Don’t get me wrong. He’s cool.”

“He is cool.”

“But it’s just…awful.” She started crying again then. “It’s awful. I hurt all the time. I want him back. It’s been almost two months, and I still feel like I can’t fucking breathe when I think about it. Is it ever going to get better?”

I thought about Blaire back out there on the field and how my presence still hurt her like this. It had gotten better, but it was never exactly good. I was working on better. I believed Nora could have better.

I drew my sister into my arms and held her tight. “It will get better.”

“When?” she gasped through her tears. “My chest feels like it’s been ripped open and my heart is flopping around inside. And every time I see him, it’s worse, not better.”

“I know. I’m sorry, shrimp.”