Zoey POV Continued

"Really?" Tears were coming out harder now.

"Of course." Dad held on to my hand tightly. "And I know she's looking down on you right now, probably laughing a little, and wishing she could be here with you. She'd want me to treat you to some custard for being strong and standing up for your uncle, and for yourself."

I pictured Mom as Dad described her, and knew he was right. She'd never tolerated anybody treating Darryl differently. One of the things Dad said he loved most about her when they first started dating was that she never babied Darryl. She treated his younger brother like everybody else. She certainly wouldn't have allowed anybody to speak to him, or me, that way.

"Is that a smile I'm seeing?" Dad asked.

I nodded. "You're right. I know Mom would be proud. She'd be proud of both of us, Dad." He seemed surprised about my confession, but I wasn't the only person who'd lost somebody. "Let's go get some custard."

Chase POV

I'm so sorry, Zoey. You know how awful I feel about what happened. I should've stepped in, I should've punched him in the face. I can't believe I acted like such a wimp. It really is a miracle you ever talked to me again. And I'm grateful that I've never had to experience your right hook.

I needed to clear my head.

So I did the only thing I could think of to make me feel better.

Run.

Since football season was over, I didn't have to worry about running too long and burning off extra calories. Or have to think about keeping my weight up. Or think about anything.

I only had to run.

I'll admit that catching that ball and hearing the cheering was amazing. I understand how people can get caught up in moments like that. How you want to keep reliving one small fraction of time when you felt invincible.

My dad has this friend who always makes him tell this story about a baseball game from back in high school. Every time the guy's over, he tells it. And we sit there like we haven't heard it a million times before. I thought it was pathetic, how you could look back on something so insignificant as one game, one play, and think that was the greatest moment in your life.

But then I totally got it.

I was THE MAN. The hero. The MVP. And all I had to do was catch a ball. One that Michael threw with precision. Did he get the credit he deserved? Not as much as I did.

There I was on a total ego high when Zoey had to come in and crash the party.

And what did THE MAN, the hero, the MVP do? He stood there terrified and did nothing.

NOTHING.

I had to recount what happened not only to the principal, but to Zoey's dad. He looked so upset when he arrived at school, then had to listen to me tell him how brave his daughter had been.

While I'd just stood there.

I had to tell him all the awful things Logan had said.

While I'd just stood there.

I'd never felt more like a loser in my life.

Before I really knew where I was running to, I ended up at Riverside Park. I'd been running so hard, I could see my breath come out in short spurts. I walked a bit to cool down, even though the cold weather was already helping with that.

I normally didn't run that hard when it was early winter, but I needed to get some distance from what had happened the day before.

I'd begun to walk forward to the swings when I noticed someone stretching, out over by the picnic tables. I abruptly stopped when I realized it was Zoey. She had her right leg up on the table and was bending over to stretch out her hamstrings.

Confusion swirled around whether I should approach her or walk away before she saw me.

I stepped forward. It was about time I started acting like the stud I'd been pretending to be for the past week. Or more accurately, past few months.

"Hey!" I called out to her.

She spun around quickly. "Oh, hey." She paused for a second before continuing to stretch.

"You just starting?"

"Nope, I'm done."

I knew that. I knew her routine. She was happy running for herself. To help clear her head. She didn't need the justification of a team or a crowd to do something.

I had no idea what to do. I wanted to make things right between us, but I wasn't sure at what cost. So I would start with what I should've done months ago: apologize.

"Zoey, about —"

She cut me off. "I don't want to talk about it."

"He's a jerk," I offered.

Her lip curled slightly. "He's your best friend."

I wanted to say No, he's not. You are. But I hadn't been acting like a friend to her, let alone a best friend.

I opened my mouth, trying to think of something to say to mend this tension between us. The words that came out were: "See you at Thanksgiving."

See you at Thanksgiving? I should've asked her to punch me right then and there. Maybe she would've knocked some sense into me.

"Yeah." She began to walk away.

"Hey, Zoey," I called after her. "Is it okay that we're still coming?"

She hesitated briefly. "Of course."

While that pause was only a couple seconds, it was long enough for me to know I'd done some real damage.

My parents let me drive my new car to Thanksgiving. I should've been excited for this rather adult responsibility, but I was nervous. For the first time since I've known the Brooks, I wasn't sure how to act. This needed to be a great Thanksgiving for Zoey. I didn't want to do anything or say anything that would upset her.

What I did want was for us to figure some way to get back to normal. To pre-Chase-being-an-idiot. To pre-Ireland. Maybe even to pre-Lola.

Darryl opened the door with a giant smile. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Guilt stabbed me as I thought about what Logan had said.

We all exchanged holiday greetings and unloaded our winter coats and gifts. We'd brought the centerpiece, pumpkin pie, shrimp for an appetizer, and some adult beverages for the grown-ups.

The amazing smell of the holidays greeted us as we stepped into the living room.

Mom set out the shrimp cocktail on the coffee table next to Zoey's offerings: spiced pecans, bacon roll-ups, and, I was beyond thrilled to see, her cheese ball.

"Yes!" I sat down and grabbed a cracker.

"Get your own!" Darryl gently shoved me as we both started helping ourselves to the food. If only Thanksgiving happened in the summer, I would never have had a problem putting on weight for football season.

"Zoey!" Mom greeted Zoey with a giant hug as she entered the room. "This all looks wonderful. What can I help you with?"

"Nothing, really." She glanced at her watch. "I don't have to worry about anything for at least thirty minutes."

"Do you want me to be on turkey duty?" Mom offered.

"Turkey's done. I cooked it yesterday." Zoey popped a bacon roll-up into her mouth. "I did the fancy turkey last time. This year I wanted to do my aunt Janet's recipe. Cooked the turkey yesterday, then marinated it overnight in gravy."

"It's so good," Dustin said as he took the knife away from me to help himself to more cheese ball.

"Don't eat the entire cheese ball! You know I've got a ton of food for dinner: stuffing, wild rice, macaroni and cheese, sweet potato casserole, glazed carrots…. I think there's a green vegetable somewhere in there. I'm not sure, it's a holiday!"

"It all sounds fabulous." Mom rubbed Zoey's arm. "You look gorgeous, sweetie." She really did.

"We've really missed you. All we keep hearing from Chase is how busy you've been."

The cheese ball got caught in my throat. I didn't want the day to begin with me getting caught in a lie. I wanted this to be a fun meal like we always had together, even though I knew my mere presence was enough to prevent that from happening.

I studied Zoey's face to see if she was going to give away the fact that I'd been using excuse after excuse for reasons why she wasn't around. Why we couldn't do Sunday dinners anymore. I kept saying Zoey had this cooking thing or that academic event.

But the real reason was that I was being selfish. I didn't want anything to take away from my time with my guys. I didn't want to be attached to Zoey. Like she was some sort of tether weighing me down. But it was my ego, my insecurity about where I fit in that was responsible for my stupidity.

Zoey smiled. "Yeah, it's been a crazy few months." She took a handful of pecans and headed into the kitchen.

"Ah, I'm going to see if she needs any help," I said as I got up. I ignored the sarcastic comments from my dad, as it was pretty clear that the only help I could give anybody in the kitchen would be to exit immediately.

Zoey was washing a pot. Her back was to me. I couldn't tell if she was angry.

"Do you need help?" I offered.

Her shoulders tensed up. "No, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" I approached the side of the sink and picked up a towel.

"Suit yourself." She handed me the dripping dish.

Zoey jumped up to sit on the kitchen island as I began to dry off the pot.

"Did you invite Alexa for dessert?" she asked.

When Mom had talked to Zoey to see what we could bring, Zoey had invited Alexa to join us later when she was done with her family.

"Nah. I thought it would be good to be only family." I hesitated. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure how much longer we'll be together." Which was true. Alexa was a cool girl, but I was with her because I thought I should be with a cheerleader. That was what most of the varsity athletes did. That was what Logan did. Plus, I thought it would be easier to have a girlfriend to keep my feelings for Zoey in check. And that wasn't fair to Alexa. Or to me.

"That's too bad," Zoey replied. There was absolutely no emotion on her face. I couldn't tell if she really thought this was bad news or if she was being sarcastic. Usually, it was pretty clear when she was being sarcastic, mostly at my expense.

A smile started to slowly spread across my lips as I thought back on some of our epic bantering sessions. Guys think they can talk crap, but they've got nothing on Zoey in terms of wit and a rapid-fire reflex.

She looked confused. "You're smiling over your relationship ending?"

"No, no." I didn't need her to think of me worse than she probably already did. "I was thinking about the time we went to that Brewers game —"