Keeping Secrets

Thanksgiving Break

PEYTON

Max was his usual self during breakfast—joking around with Ty, laughing, and not once mentioning the incident with Lance and Alicia. Or whatever it had been. And I didn't mention it either. Because what was I gonna say? Oh, hey Max, does Lance know his girlfriend turns you on?

Regardless of what it was Max felt for her, it was clear that he didn't act on it. He removed himself from the situations that involved her and was super attentive towards me. I just didn't quite know what to make of it.

Since then, Max had showed up at my dorm room frequently with the lattes I liked. He met me for lunch, and when he didn't have practice, we'd hang out. But other than friendly hugs, or the occasional hand holding, he didn't display any affection towards me other than friendship.

At first, I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

My pride took a little bit of a hit, because I had listened to everyone—especially Becca—and I thought that Max might have an interest in me. But as time went on, I knew better, and I was okay with that.

He was gorgeous, but it wasn't like I was in love with him, either.

Max never denied that we weren't a couple. He didn't try to shut down the rumors, and it seemed like even his football friends thought we were. Becca did for sure, no matter how many times I tried to explain that we were just friends. So finally, I gave up.

People could think what they wanted. It wasn't like it was a negative thing for me to have people believe there was something between Max and me. Well, except for the occasional jealous glares from other girls.

I was busy keeping up with my classes, and it wasn't like I wanted someone else, not at school, anyway.

But I also couldn't pretend any longer that there was no other reason. Beau. He did affect me. He had been texting more, and as much as I didn't want to feel anything other than friendship for him, my heart rate picked up every time my phone buzzed. Every time there was an incoming text message, I hoped it was him. And there were little flutters in my belly every single time he sent a picture.

I knew it was stupid to feel like that. Beau was famous and on tour. He was constantly surrounded by beautiful women who probably threw themselves at him. As much as I hated to admit it, I was pretty sure he was hooking up with more than a few of them. I might be inexperienced, but I wasn't naïve.

Beau didn't do anything that showed that he reciprocated my attraction to him. He was probably like Max, just looking for my friendship. My head seemed to grasp that, but other parts of me, not so much.

It wasn't like I wanted to be infatuated with him. I realized it was bound to lead to heartache and pain, but no matter how hard I tried, my body reacted every damn time that phone buzzed.

Our texts were innocent. He'd tell me about the places he visited, and how exciting the tour was. But he also confessed that it was difficult to be away from home. More so than he'd expected. They spent a lot of nights traveling and getting little sleep.

The stories he told differed greatly from what they portrayed in the news and on social media. Online, Trudge Lite seemed to be living the dream—laughing and partying, always surrounded by adoring fans. There were always photos of the band looking like they were having the time of their lives, caught in the glow of their rising stardom.

As much as Beau admitted he enjoyed the tour and the rising stardom, he also told me about the reality of it, and not just the upsides.

The last I heard from him; they were in Germany getting ready to play a couple of concerts in Munich and Berlin.