I shake my head at the memory. “Why the hell are we even discussing this?”
“Because we never did when shit went down between us. You blocked me out.” She takes another step, clutches my hand holding the beer and stares up with an earnest gleam in her eye. A quality I remember from when I actually liked her. “Refused to talk to me or anyone else about us. You’re stubborn and block out what you don’t want to deal with.”
“We all deal in our own way and do what we need to go on. It took me a while to trust anyone again,” I snarl. “Guess I have you to thank for opening my eyes to what some girls are capable of to get their own way, and…” I swallow thinking about what facts I discovered after her fake pregnancy stunt, “… my future.”
I never shared those facts with anyone other than my parents and Chance.
“So why are you looking miserable about being home when you intend to return here at the end of the football season?”
Emptying the contents in one go, I reach into the ice and grab another beer. I clink my beer bottle against her wine glass. “A few more of these, and I won’t be so miserable, as you put it.”
“So, it’s not me,” she says and smiles as though she is a step closer to getting into my bed.
“Not this time.” I guzzle more beer.
“Trust me, they’re all easy to forget after a while. It comes back to the one person who you lost your heart to for real. We both know we’re meant to be together. You have to let some of the hurt go. You’re older, and I figure you’ve grown up since then.”
“You thought I acted immature telling you to fuck off after you lied about being pregnant? You carried the lie for a month and lied to the family. Christ, we are so different. And no. I don’t believe we were meant to be together. Since you want to know what’s bugging me, it’s that I found someone else. Someone I thought I could trust. Turns out she was no better than you. Guess I can’t pick ‘em. So, if I were to make a resolution… it’s to avoid heartless bitches like you and develop a sense to know a witch before she gets her claws into me.” Man, it felt good to get that out. I wash the good feeling down with more beer.
“Felicity. Reef. Happy new year.” Chance clinks his bottle against mine. “Strange to see you two talking and not shouting at each other.”
“It’s the new year,” Felicity says, batting her fake lashes. “We’re discussing resolutions and new beginnings. The new year is about hope. Right, Reef?”
“Right,” I groan and down another mouthful of beer. Her words remind me of what the assistant said to me in the jewellery store when I purchased the necklace for Macy. After drinking myself to sleep since Christmas Day, I told myself I wouldn’t think about her tonight. And like a switch, she’s back in my thoughts.
“How’s Macy?”
I clench my jaw trying not to lose my shit. “You could ask Brody,” I snap.
Both Chance and Felicity stare at me as if I’ve grown two heads.
“I thought there was a reason he was looking sombre,” she says to Chance. “If you need cheering up, you know where to find me.”
Felicity walks away leaving Chance to gape at me.
“No fucking way,” I say into the bottle as though it holds my happiness and all the answers I need to know.
“Mate. What’s going on?” Chance lands a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m not stupid enough to hook-up with her again.”
“Not what I’m talking about. What’s going on with you and Mace?”
I give him a long look before answering, a look Chance recognises since we grew up together. “Not tonight.”
“Fine. I know you bottle shit up, but you and me, we’re going for a beer tomorrow.”
“Won’t change anything.”
“At least I can be your wingman tonight, so you don’t make a bigger mistake.” He nods in the direction to where Felicity strutted over to another group of guys.
“A bigger mistake?”
“Yeah. Bigger than what happened between you and Macy.”
The following afternoon my mother beats me to answering the door.
“Happy New Year, Mrs Burton.” Chance hugs my mother and kisses her on the cheek.
“Chance. It’s always lovely to see you.” One delicate hand remains on his shoulder while she assesses him. Usually, it’s a weight thing as she’s ready to tell us we need to eat more.
“Bet you’re happy to have your boy home at this time of year.”
“Yes. His brother misses him, too. He can’t wait for him to come back to Melbourne at the end of the season, so he can watch him play football and not the handful of games we watch on the TV.” She gives me a warm smile. “Although we understand why he moved to Adelaide.”
“Reckon he’s happy even though there’s barely a minute he’s not holding a beer. I know it’s the festive season and all, but my brother is taking it to the next level.”
“Jesus,” I utter at my brother. “Give it a rest.”
He laughs and gives a playful push to my shoulder, although not hard enough for me to stumble, considering I’m twice his size. My brother is an athlete, a marathon runner, and a student at university studying architecture.
“You’re jealous you don’t have the body weight to hold more than a few beers,” I tell Noah. Chance pats my gut as though it’s an imaginary beer gut. “Bugger off.”
“Darling, you’re going to have to run with your brother before heading back to Adelaide for preseason training. We’ve all noticed you letting yourself go these holidays.”
“Thanks, Mum.” I lift my T-shirt to make a point. “You could still grate cheese on these babies.” I slap my belly while contracting my abs.
“What do you think, Mrs B?” Chance lifts his top. “What football code trains harder?” Then my brother joins in. “Noah, you tell us. What code wins?”
My brother chuckles and pats his abs with zero fat. “You both lose.”
“Boys, please. Next you’ll be dropping your pants and comparing your penises like you did when you were eight.”
“And I won there, too.” I chuckle.
Both Noah and Chance groan but don’t say anything.
“Darling, I’d like you to win in other ways.” Mum pats my cheek. “Where are you and Chance headed?”
“I was going to suggest a bar down the road, but I’m happy to hang here by the pool.”
“Fine by me.” Chance pulls off his top. “Everyone likes to see me sitting around the pool, don’t they, Mrs B?”
Mum giggles a little. “Oh, Chance, you haven’t changed.”
“Still a douchebag,” I say under my breath, which results in a punch to my right shoulder.
“So, what made you have a New Year’s party?” I ask Chance when we’re finally alone.
“I’m back on the road for games interstate in a couple of days and thought it’s a way for me to catch up with mates. Haven’t seen some blokes since we left school.”
I nod and sense there’s another reason. “How’s the family?”