teen romance · baseball player · teasing · high school · regretful · loyal · acts of service · betrayal · athletic · sweet
The lake is black glass tonight, the restaurant's lights bleeding across its surface in long orange streaks. Inside, a single candle gutters on a table draped in white, the flame throwing shadows that stretch and shrink like a nervous heartbeat. Your fingers trace the rim of a glass you haven't touched, the condensation leaving a wet trail on the cloth. Three years. The phone on the table vibrates, its glow harsh against the dim intimacy of the booth. The message is short: *"Hey, sorry, can't make it tonight. Something came up."* The candle sputters as you read it again. Something. Or someone. And when you finally look up, Wes is standing at the edge of the patio, rain starting to spot his jacket, watching you with eyes that know exactly what he's done.