The Love That Split the World(60)

“You okay?” Beau asks, bumping his shoulder into mine.

“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head clear. “Hey, guess what I heard.”

“What?”

“That you’re really good at football.”

He studies the electric blue glow of the pool, nods but doesn’t answer.

“Are you going to keep playing?”

He shakes his head then tips it back to look up at the stars. “Nah.”

“What—why not?”

“Where would I play, Natalie? You think the tire shop has a league?”

“Didn’t anyone scout you?” I ask. He’s silent for a beat. “They did, didn’t they?”

He takes a deep breath, and his eyes fall down to me. “I don’t wanna talk about football.”

I struggle for a moment, caught between my need to understand him and my desire to clear away that look in his eyes. “Okay,” I say.

He leans over to kiss me, but before he can, someone shoves him hard from behind. He drops forward into the pool, surprised shrieks rising up all around the patio as water splashes up onto legs and feet. I look back in time to see Rachel smugly storming away, and when I turn back to Beau, he’s laughing in disbelief, pushing his wet hair back and wading toward me. I can’t help laughing too as I grab the sides of his dripping face.

“You think that’s funny, Natalie Cleary?” he says, smiling.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, but I can’t stop laughing. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah, I can tell you feel real bad.”

“I do. I feel terrible.”

“Me too.” He slips his arms around my waist and kisses me, then pulls me off the ledge and into the heated water, my dress trying to rise around my thighs and sandals trying to swim clear of my feet.

“Beau,” I chastise him halfheartedly. More screams erupt as Derek and Luke and Lauren Peterson jump into the pool around us. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I’m so sorry,” Beau parrots. I splash him and he grabs my arms, pins them to my sides, and kisses me, my stomach fluttering. He eases back enough to look into my eyes. “Do you forgive me?”

I’m about to answer when I see Matt over Beau’s shoulder. He’s standing at the edge of the patio staring at me, slack-jawed, drunk, and devastated. Not Beau’s Matt.

My Matt. I’m sure of it.

“I need to talk to you,” he shouts over the noise.

Everything’s exactly as it was a second and ago, and yet completely different. The dance team are gathered on the chaise lounges, Rachel among them as if she never left, her hair its usual glossy brown. We’re back in my world now.

Beau turns to look at Matt and must make the same realization because he doesn’t say anything. He looks back to me. “I’ll just be a minute,” I tell him, surprising myself with my decision.

He nods once. I make my way to the steps and climb out of the pool, dripping and shivering in the slight hint of breeze. Matt takes off toward the driveway without a word, and I follow him, my face hot from embarrassment and anxiety.

The Dillhorns’ floodlights are on out front, illuminating the elaborate planter-covered mound in the center of the grandiose driveway. Matt stalks halfway to the street before he turns back to me. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out, and he angrily spins away again. When he faces me again, his eyes are watery, and my chest clenches with guilt. “Why are you doing this?” he says.

I take a deep breath and try to stay calm, unemotional. “Doing what?”

He thrusts an arm out in the direction of the backyard. “Who is that guy? Why would you bring him here, when you knew I was going to be here? Why would you—” He cuts himself off and takes a few more stumbling steps down the slope toward his car.

“I thought you were going to stop drinking,” I say quietly.

“I thought you loved me,” he throws back.

“Really?” I shout. “Did you also think you loved me?”

“I do love you,” he growls. “I love you, and you’re ruining my life. You threw me out like trash, and I still don’t even know why. Do you even know why? Because one day you loved me, and the next you didn’t want me anymore, and you’ve never given me a straight answer why. And you know the worst part? I’ve still loved you this whole time, even though it’s killing me, and then you show up here with some random guy and kiss him right in front of me.”

“Matt, please,” I sob, lunging for his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were going to be here, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“It’s my best friend’s party!”

“I know, but—”

“Stop!” he yells, shaking me off. “You were all I wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, and I’m nothing to you.”

I shake my head. “That’s not true.” The tears are breaking loose harder, faster, warping my voice worse with each syllable. “I love you, Matt. You know I love you.”

“I don’t know that,” he says, shaking his head. He turns and heads for his car, throwing the door open.

I chase after him. “Matt, I’ll leave. You shouldn’t drive right now.”