When You Least Expect It

10

A crease formed between his brows, and he seemed at a loss for words. "I wanted to talk to you about something," he finally said in a quiet voice.

"Make it quick. I've got somewhere I need to be, and talking to you lays really low on my list of priorities."

He shifted his gaze to Harry, then cleared his throat. "I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you last week. I know I was a jerk, and I'm genuinely sorry for that. My life's been a bit chaotic lately, and it's no excuse, but I should've handled things differently. I don't want things to be awkward, especially since we might run into each other quite a bit."

"Is that all?"

He refused to meet my gaze — instead looked down at the floor. "Um, yeah. That's all... and I was wondering if you, I don't know, maybe wanted to hang out in the future. With me and Ilya. He really likes you for some reason."

"No thanks."

His face went hard. "Why are you being like this? I apologized."

I scoffed, my irritation escalating. "You can't just act like nothing happened. Apology accepted, but don't expect us to be buddy-buddy."

His face hardened. "I don't expect us to be friends then, Max. I just don't want things to be unbearable every time we cross paths. But hey, if you're dead set on keeping the tension, I'll leave you to it."

I shot back, "You're the one who couldn't control his temper in the first place. Don't act like you're the victim here."

He clenched his fists, a mixture of anger and regret on his face. "Fine. Keep holding onto that grudge. Just know I tried to make things right."

"Max!" Harry called. "Get over here."

"You should go... don't want to keep the king waiting." Carson shook his head, scoffing like he had some inside joke with himself, and walked off.

I sighed, watching Carson's retreating figure. The hollow feeling lingered within me as I returned to Harry, berating myself for the way I had handled things. The chlorine-scented air clung to Harry as he stood by the bleachers in nothing but soaked shorts.

"I think I'll take you up on that burger offer," Harry grumbled, searching through his duffel bag. "I'm starving."

"So what was that back there?"

Harry stiffened at the sound of his father's voice. "What was what?" Harry finally responded after pretending to rummage through his duffel bag.

"Look at me when I talk to you," Benjamin commanded.

Harry exhaled deeply, then turned. His look went miserable. "I can do better, Dad. I'll try harder."

"Of course you can do better than that. You don't want to end up like your brother, do you?" There it was, the condescending tone that reduced Harry to a vulnerable boy.

His father's dedication to Harry's swimming hinted at a desire for success, not just for the family's image but, perhaps, as a way to prove something to himself. A year ago, Harry's older brother, Ash, checked into rehab to battle drug addiction. Harry carried a heavier load than most people realized.