Nothing Feels Better (Better Love 3)

“You’resure you want to go now?” Ivy asks, laying my yarn skeins carefully in a moving box. “You still have a few weeks until you have to be in Boston. This is our last summer together.”

I pull a drawer from my dresser and upend its contents into another box.

“No point in prolonging it, V,” I tell her flatly. “I want to get settled in the area. I won’t know anyone. It’s not like we won’t still keep in touch.”

“Don’t say that,” she scolds. “Don’t say it like we’ll only be talking once every few weeks or something. I still expect to hear from you daily.”

I huff a small laugh. “Of course. I’ll keep you all updated in the group chat.”

“You better,” she grumbles.

Bailey pokes her head in my bedroom, holding an air fryer. “Is this yours or Kelley’s? He says he can’t remember.”

“If it’s up to me, then it’s mine,” I say with a grin, and Bailey rolls her eyes before disappearing back the way she came.

“Have you talked to her?” Ivy asks quietly, keeping her eyes on the box in front of her.

I should have known she’d know.

“Not since she ended things last week,” I answer honestly, and I don’t bother to force false lightness into my tone. I know I haven’t been fooling anyone. They all know I’m miserable despite the fake as fuck smiles and half-hearted jokes.

“Does it have anything to do with her,” Ivy spits, referring to Mrs. Huntington. Ivy hates her. It’s a good thing she didn’t see Sandra at the intramural field or V might have caught a charge. Sandra has been arrested and charged, which is a weight off my shoulders, and my lawyer said I should be able to give written testimony instead of having to appear in court.

“Not exactly.” I consider what to tell her. I don’t want to betray Jocelyn’s privacy, but I also don’t want to lie to my friend. “Jocelyn’s ex-husband is a nasty person. She’s got to get that stuff figured out, and our lives are too different.”

Ivy hums. “Did you tell her how you feel?”

I smirk. Ivy probably knew how I felt about Jocelyn before I did.

“I did, V,” I tell her. “I gave Classic my heart, and she didn’t even give me a pen.”

She groans playfully at my movie reference then throws her arms around my middle and gives me a hug, telling me she didn’t see through my deflection. I hug her back, swaying side to side slightly, and soak it in. I don’t have to say it. She knows.

Yeah, V. It fucking hurts. It really fucking hurts.

Ivy doesn’t say anything for a while, and we pack boxes in silence. I finish up the dresser and move on to the desk while V tackles the closet. When we’re done with that, and my room is nothing but an empty box with a stripped bed and bare walls, we go to the kitchen and join Bailey, Kelley, and Riggs.

With all of my belongings packed in boxes or tossed in laundry baskets, and Jenga-stacked into a small U-Haul trailer, we order Chinese take-out and have one last meal together before I have to hit the road.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Bailey grumbles into her lo mien. “I thought we would have a few more weeks.”

“Awww, are you gonna miss me, B?” I tease, and she snorts.

“More like I’m going to miss being able to do Labor Day at your lake house.”

I mock gasp, then use my chopsticks to fling a piece of broccoli at her.

“Children,” Riggs warns, and B and I both flash him our best I didn’t start it face.

It feels good, the laughter and normalcy, but it aches, too. This is my family, my support system, and I’m leaving them in a matter of hours. I wasn’t planning to leave for Boston early, but after five days of pacing and obsessing, I decided I have to get out of the same city as Jocelyn Calligaris. Knowing she’s so close is driving me mad. I have to leave before I do something outrageous like ditch Harvard entirely and stand outside her house with a boombox over my head blasting “Nothing Feels Better” by Pink Sweat$.

We’re cleaning up from dinner when a loud knock sounds on the door. I open it and find Xavier is standing in the hallway.

“What’s up, Z?”

“You’re leaving?” he asks, and I raise a brow. He’s agitated. Angry. It’s obvious his patience with me is fucking gone; I just don’t know what I’ve done this time.

“Yeah. Bout to get on the road now, actually.” I smirk and throw my arms out wide to dissolve the tension. “You here to give me a hug goodbye?”

“Did you tell them goodbye?”

I drop my hands to my sides, finally understanding.

“She doesn’t care, Z.”

“Jesse, for fuck’s sake, I’m not talking about Jocelyn. I’m talking about June and Jude. Do they know you’re leaving?”

“No,” I admit, and guilt floods my stomach.

“Those kids care about you, Jesse. If you leave without saying goodbye, it’s going to fuck them up. They’ll take it personally. They’ll wonder what they did to make you leave.”

I nod. Fuck, why didn’t I think about that?

“You’re right,” I rasp.

“I’m sorry that you got your heart broken but grow the fuck up and go give those kids the goodbye they deserve,” he says, then just turns around and walks away. A total mic-drop moment, and I’m left feeling like an asshole in the hallway.

“Hey, guys,” I call into the kitchen, as if my friends didn’t just witness the whole exchange. “I got something to do.”

I don’t bother unhooking the trailer, I just jump in my Kia and head toward Jocelyn’s. The closer I get to her townhouse, the harder my heart pounds. I even consider pulling over and doing one of the deep breathing exercises Ivy is always recommending for anxiety. I go to stick my hand in my pocket, then remember that I trashed the ring a couple nights ago. I don’t miss it, but old habits are hard to break.

I pull up to the curb outside Joss’s house and heave a sigh of relief that a certain big, black truck isn’t parked in the driveway. I take a few beats to compose myself, then bite the bullet and walk to the house.

“Jesse,” Jocelyn says, surprised, when she opens the door. Her eyes run over my face. “What are you...” Her attention snags on the U-Haul at the curb, and then snaps back to me. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, figured I’d go ahead and give Boston some time to acclimate to me,” I joke, and try to hide the way my body yearns to pull her closer, to hold her. Kiss her. I fist my hands and shove them in my pockets. She’s so pretty that I have to look away.

“You were supposed to be here until the end of August,” she says. I shrug. I don’t know what to say to that. I have to leave or I’ll go nuts? I can’t stay here because you broke my fucking heart? I don’t think now is the time for that.

“I, uh, I was actually hoping I could say goodbye to J-Squared?”

I flick my gaze back to her face, just in time to see her lip quiver and her eyes mist, but she opens the door wide.

“Come on in,” she says. I don’t step into the house, though. I can’t.

“It’s okay. I’d rather talk to them out here if that’s alright.” The heartbreak on her face kills me because it matches mine, but she nods quickly.

“I’ll be right back.”

She disappears into the house and returns moments later with June and Jude. Her face is now an impassive mask.

“Hey, squad,” I say brightly, and June zeroes in on the U-Haul.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, Doonie. I gotta leave for medical school today.”

She screws her lips up to the side and doesn’t take her eyes off the U-Haul when she says, “so they’ll finally trust you with a knife?”

I chuckle. “Exactly.”

“Can we come too?” Jude asks, excitement in his voice.

“Not this time, Meatball.”

His little face falls, and his big eyes grow bigger. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper.

“Will you come back?”