𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟿𝚝𝚑
Griffin POV
Sharp, abrupt breaths burst from my mouth with every other running stride. Tight matching cramps start to climb up my calves as I adjust to running on the sand.
Seagulls squawk overhead as they circle lazily, non-discreetly keeping their beady eyes trained on the tourists starting to flock to the beachside. I huff as I change course to move around a family struggling to get their tent set up.
I thought coming out to Thornton beach at eight in the morning would be early enough to escape all of the people, but it's obviously not. This crowd looks like the type that spends thousands of dollars on a rental beach house for one weekend, and they'll be damned if they don't milk out every single second of being on the west coast.
"Shit, why don't we have guys like this in Arkansas?" A girl says to her friend as they lay out towels, both of their necks turning to watch me run past.
It's easy to ignore them. All of the girls who vacation here are the same, anyway.
Sweat begins to drip down my face. Lifting my wrist, I pant like a dog as the watch lights up. I have to slow down my pace to read the stats.
53:20:17
166bpm
8.09 miles
"Thank god," I groan and slow down, grains of sand slipping away from underneath my feet. Ten years of vigorous training drives me to rest my hands on top of my head, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth as I catch my breath.
Dad would be excited if he saw that information because that's the fastest I've ever run eight miles. Six months of hardcore, soul-crushing training and a lifetime of spite must've given me an extra edge this morning. That recruitment camp won't know what hit them when I arrive next month.
When Parker and I arrive. They'll be shocked to see both of us for two totally different reasons.
I spit in the sand at the thought of Parker as I spin around and walk toward the ocean, letting the waves lick at my ankles. Thinking about him spurs me into a sprint again. This time, I feel the burn of the movement in my knees as my soles slap against wet sand. The water feels good against the creeping heat of the morning.
With each foot that strikes the earth, I hear two words in cadence. Fuck. Him. Fuck. Him.
It's the motivation that I need to keep racing toward the parking lot where my car, shoes, shirt, and water bottle are waiting.
Another group of older women that are already starting to day drink whistle at me as I pass. I don't acknowledge them because I can't hear them over the sound of yesterday's conversation with Parker replaying in my head.
It's funny how he even bothered to argue against me when he knew for a fact that I was right. Fucking hysterical. I wonder what he tells himself every single day to have that confidence. There is one thing that he said that I keep coming back to.
Maybe losing him is what it took for me to wake up and realize that all this superficial shit isn't important anymore.
A chuckle comes out of my mouth in between controlled breaths. Seriously, I've never heard such a stupid sentence in my life. And believe me when I say that I've heard some stupid shit.
One year ago, Parker would've lost his fucking mind if he knew how hard I was training to outwork him. There was a time when we came out here together to run, where we scheduled our lives around going to the gym or going out to the field together. While he practiced throwing spirals, I would be on the other side of the field trying not to snap my legs as I practiced bursts, suicides, pivots, and a handful of more moves to leave the defense on their ass. If I was quick as a cat during my junior season, this year, I want to be faster than a hummingbird.
Parker used to have that mindset, too. He worked his ass off to get the recognition and attention he gained. We had plans to go to the same college and play for the same team—anything to stay by each other's side. I was willing to stay hidden in his shadow if it meant that we could play ball together for a few more years.
Neither of us would've guessed that a few months later, that dream would be out the window.
Goddamn Miles, that bitch.
It took me a while to figure out that I didn't hate that he was black, gay, or whatever. I hated him because I could see that Parker was smitten from the start. During school that one day, in the lunchroom, when Parker chased after him, I saw that dream get thrown out the window. Playing college football wasn't the goal anymore.
A cramp starts to blossom in my side, underneath my rib cage. I bite my tongue and ignore it as I stretch my legs further.
Love is dumb as hell. Even Forrest was on the fast track to playing varsity baseball during his freshman year. He had the chance to play on the traveling baseball team with the top dogs.
Parker and I had started hanging out with the best jocks in the school during lunch, and it didn't take long for Forrest to realize that we were the same age. That's about when Roselyn started to follow me to the table, like the perfect little duckling she is.
Starstruck, Forrest practically lost his spot on the varsity team right then and there. He started skipping practices to see my sister and then games. One month later, he was off the team, blindsided with happiness to be near her.
Actually, that dumbass is still blindsided.
At least he had half a mind to rejoin baseball the following year after they started dating, and he got the honeymoon phase out of his system. He lost that athletic drive, too, though. There's no motivation in his heart except for the fact that he enjoys the sport. Otherwise, he has no plans to try going pro.
Then there's me. At least my head is still in between my shoulders.
I'm so lost in my thoughts that I almost run right past the lot where my car is parked. My pace slows down, and I grit my teeth as I walk off the wet sand onto the hot, sun-baked stuff. The bottoms of my feet sting with each step.
The Hellcat chirps and unlocks for me as I get closer, like the perfect machine that it is. Fuck relationships. Give me a good, fast sport car, and I'll die happy.
Heat radiates off of the black paint. I feel it as I grab the passenger door handle and yank it open, snatching my sandals and tshirt off the floor mats. I shut the door with my hip and carefully lean on the car as I brush sand off my left foot, then slip one sandal on.
"If it isn't Griffin himself! What's up, buddy?!" Kendric's voice carries over the parking lot. I could recognize that Californian accent from anywhere.
I finish brushing off my other foot and getting the other sandal on before straightening up and facing my friend.
Kendric is walking over with a stupid smile on his face, his dark hair windswept, and his brown skin is already a few shades tanner than it was when I saw him on the last day of school the other week. Joshua is hot on his heels, carrying a blue Yeti cooler that's likely full of alcohol. His cheeks and shoulders are sunburnt, probably from spending the first few days of his summer in this exact fashion: out on the beach drinking all day.
"Not much. Good to see you, brothers," I say and accept a knuckle bump from Kendric before slapping Joshua's shoulder.
He winces when I hit his sunburn but hides it under a smile. He knows better than to tell me off for doing that. "You too, Grif. Are you seriously spending your vacation running out here? Why not take a break? We only get a few months off of the field!"
I scoff and pull my tshirt over my head. "You realize who my father is, right? There's no such thing as 'breaks' for me. Besides, you didn't hear?"
The two boys shake their heads and look at each other. Joshua sets down his cooler before asking, "No, hear what?"
"My dad got an invitation from Nike to go down to their recruitment camp next month. He's bringing me with, and I'll have to play in front of some big names." I leave out the whole Parker situation, the fact that they only invited Parker and me and not anyone else on the team, and that they didn't really say anything about wanting my dad there.
It's a half-truth, but true enough to make Joshua grin and slap my back proudly while Kendric claps his hands together in excitement.
"That's what I'm talking about! In that case, you might want to run another few damn miles! I've heard that camp is the real deal. The only people who could handle that environment are you or Parker," Kendric says and shrugs. "I love football, but that type of shit is too serious."
"Agreed. You'll kill it though, man, you've been working your ass off," Joshua adds and puts a hand over his eyes when the sun comes back out from behind a stray cloud.
"My plan is to leave everyone speechless. I should probably go home and shower," I say and shuffle back towards the car. If I'm not careful, these two could keep me roped in a conversation for hours.
"C'mon, you don't want to stick around? Danny, Turner, and Carlos will be here soon—"
"Hell no." I scoff. "Each time I'm near Carlos, I feel these random urges to fucking kill myself."
Kendric snorts and then pauses. "Okay, fair. Actually, who even invited him?"
Joshua looks at his friend and shrugs. "I think he overheard us at Danny's birthday party the other week when we were making plans. At least that's... oh, shit." He shifts to face me. "Isn't Parker's birthday coming up? What's he doing for the big one-eight?"
"Probably drinking eighteen tablespoons of bleach, one for each year. I don't fucking know," I reply, venom coating my tone. I know it's overkill from how both boys raise their eyebrows at me.
Kendric and Joshua are two of the original boys who have been around since freshman year. They know that Parker and I were close for a long time, so now that I've got it out for him, they seem surprised each time I diss him.
"He's still tied up over Miles?" Kendric asks and scratches his forehead.
"'Tied up' is putting it lightly."
Kendric hums and glances at Joshua. "You know what Parker needs?"
"Probably a male stripper to get his mind off of things."
"Jesus." Kendric shudders and presses his palms against his eyes. Even I scrunch my nose at the thought. "Josh, you idiot. No! He needs his friends! Let's do something for him."
"Oh!" Joshua exclaims and brightens up. "Hey, why don't we have a party at my parent's beach house that weekend? Invite over the team and all of our friends from school? Everyone fucking loves Parker. They'll rally together to give him a good time."
I laugh bitterly at the thought. "Good luck dragging him out of the house."
"Bro, I'm serious!" Joshua throws his hands up in the air and starts to pace as he brainstorms. "My parents would be cool with it. Plus, this could double as a kick-off to the summer. All we have to do is get Parker there, get him hammered, and he'll be a whole new person. By the end of the night, he won't even remember what happened. I think we should do it. Let's plan on the Saturday after his birthday, the 25th."
"Guys, I'm serious too. Nothing is going to change his mind."
"Griffin. Buddy. Pal." Kendric sighs and takes a step forward, laying his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off violently, his hand falling limp at his side. "You've obviously never seen Josh or I work our magic. Give us ten minutes with that little queer, and he'll come out of his room with party shoes on. Believe me."
I eye Kendric. "I'll believe it when I fucking see it."
"You better prepare yourself then, my friend!" Joshua grins and picks his cooler back off the ground. "No matter what, we're having this fricken' party! See you then!"
"Later, Grif!" Kendric echos as he follows Joshua away from the parking lot.
"Idiots," I grumble as I walk around my car and slide in the driver's seat, turning on the engine as fast as possible to get the cold air flowing. All they want is another reason to party.
As I wait for the engine to warm up, I grab my water bottle and start chugging down blissful mouthfuls. The watch on my wrist vibrates.
Quirking an eyebrow, I lift my wrist to eye level as I drink.
Miles: 1 new message
Beads of water slip down the wrong tube in my throat. I drop the bottle into the cup holder as I cough, sending droplets flying over my steering wheel. I keep hacking the water out of my lungs as I lean over the center console and grab my phone.
Unlocking it quickly, I tap on my messages.
I haven't heard from Miles in literal months. Why the hell would he be texting me now? The only reason that comes to mind is that Parker finally followed through with his suicide threats. My stomach drops a little at the thought.
Miles: Hey man, you around?
I squint at the text and reread it. Seriously, this is too random.
I'm not sexting with you or
sending you pictures of my naked
body so don't even bother asking
Miles: I just got done
having phone sex with your
cousin so you don't need to
worry, it's not that
I'm blocking your number.
Miles: Kidding, lighten
the fuck up. This is about
Parker tho. I have a
favor to ask of u
Ok...
The phone in my hand starts to vibrate. I jolt as the screen changes to black, and Miles name appears up top while the answer button down below glows green.
"What the fuck?" I ask out loud to no one in particular.
I consider letting it ring, but it doesn't feel right. Miles has literally never called me before.
So, I answer the phone.