Saving Boston (Rewritten)

I Never Said Anything I Didn't Believe

The breeze drifted through the pine trees surrounding Trevor's mom's backyard. As my back leaned against the wooden lawn chair, I watched the string of lights sway back and forth above us. Golden rays cast down from the Edison Bulbs, bringing a glow that the bonfire could not. I listened to the wood crackle as it crumbled in the heat. It felt like high school again, partying at Trevor's place when his parents were home.

The cabin-styled home's large windows reminded me of the curly-haired girl. It reminded me of the first time I noticed how quickly I began falling for Bo and how she stepped onto the back patio with my hoodie on. It reminded me of the same night she came to snuggle up on my lap as she promised to stay up all night. Now I am staring at the marshmallow bag, wondering what wouldn't remind me of her? For she was the best at roasting the perfect marshmallow.

Now I am thinking about last week and how I made her leave. I couldn't watch her do it on her own, though. So, I didn't give her an option; I made the curly-haired girl walk without hesitating. As I lifted myself from the chair, I left my friends to find something I could sip on that wouldn't make me fall into a downhill spiral. Maybe I could find something that helped me forget about her. Trevor didn't drink anymore, so I knew I would find something sitting around somewhere.

My eyes fell on the Hawaiian Punch, realizing it was either that or nothing, so I sucked in a deep breath before pouring a red solo cup full. It tasted like the mix I made Bo when she wanted to play beer pong but told me how much she hated beer. My fingers ran through my hair as I tried to pull her from my thoughts.

"I didn't know you'd be here."

My head rolled to the side to see Chrissy standing beside me, and suddenly I wanted to leave. "Likewise."

"So, Bo has been staying with you, I assume?"

My eyebrows furrowed as I brought the cup away from my lips. "No -"

"Well, she hasn't been home," she stared up at me with confusion. "I assumed she was staying with you -"

"Bo!" Trevor's voice echoed through the backyard. "I am glad you could make it."

I snapped my head to the side to see the caramel-eyed woman walking through the fence with her long curls falling down her back. She stepped toward Trevor in her spandex-looking shorts and crop-top t-shirt. She wrapped her arms around his neck before giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

My hand gripped the plastic tighter as I heard him ask her if she slept okay. It only made me assume she stayed at his house, and that could be the reason she handed him a small silver key. Before the blonde girl beside me could say a word, the cup crumbled under my hold. The punch splattered over us both, making her gasp out of surprise.

"Kinnick -"

"I don't want to hear it," I snapped.

I tossed the cup into the trashcan beside the table before heading toward the sliding glass doors. My hand rubbed over my face as I tried to rid it of the red liquid. My hand shoved the bathroom door shut as I sat in the bathroom, trying to understand why this shit kept fucking happening to me.

Before I could take a breath, the door handle started to jiggle. My head fell into my hands as I tried to take a deep breath. The knob moved again, making me stand up to yank the door open. Just as I went to snap at the person standing before me, I realized the curly-haired girl was the one in my presence.

"Sorry," she squeaked. "I'll come back -"

"No," I shake my head. "I was just leaving."

Without saying another word, I walked around her. I think I am wrong, but I thought I caught her watching me as I walked down the stairs. Something makes me hope I am not. So, I held onto the idea that she still loves me despite yelling at her last week to leave. Now I am grabbing my jacket from the back of the couch before leaving so I don't keep believing in things that I know aren't true.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

My eyes lifted from the couch to see Rosie with a drink in her hand. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Surprise," she grinned. "What are you doing hiding in here by yourself?"

"I am not hiding," I grumbled.

"Mhm," her hand slipped into mine. "Let's get you a drink."

"I don't drink -"

"Not even punch?"

My eyes rolled at her. "The last time you got me punch, it tasted like shit."

"Well, tell John that because he picked it out."

A chuckle pushed past my lips. "So, you telling me what Trevor has is going to taste better."

"Of course," she smiled up at me. "Who do you think picked it out?"

"Oh," I cocked my brows in amusement.

She pressed a cup to my chest. "Orange sherbert. My favorite."

"Is this a party or a kid's birthday?"

"It can't be an actual party because some people don't know how to handle their alcohol," her hip bumped mine as she winked.

"Funny," I snorted.

"You know I love you."

I bent down, kissing the top of her head. "So you say."

"Come on," she laced our hands. "Let's go find a seat."

"Rosie, I didn't plan on staying -"

"Why?"

A familiar burst of laughter filled the night, giving me goosebumps as it always did when I heard it. I saw the girl with curly hair standing next to Miles with her head tipped back as her happiness fell from her mouth in a beautiful melody. This is why you shouldn't let the person you fall for meet your friends because they will fall for them too, and you cannot spend the rest of your life after your break-up acting like they don't exist.

Rosie stared up at me with her eyes widening in despair, but mine stayed on the girl who owned my heart. It wasn't seeing her that made me feel saddened. No, it was the way that seeing her made me calm. All of the noises in my head ceased to exist as if all of my demons ached to hear her voice and craved for her next move. She silenced my mind and soothed my soul. Bo gave me a feeling no one else ever has, so I struggle to answer if it is real just because I cannot name it.

"We spent all night talking about you," Trevor came into view. "She asked me what you were like growing up. She wanted to know all of the stupid things you did and if you have always been so stubborn. And then she asked me if you ever told another girl you love her, but I couldn't remember a time you ever said it to anybody."

Because I didn't, I never said anything I didn't believe. I couldn't even remember the last time I said it to my mom. I wouldn't speak of love if it didn't exist, but the night I saw the curly-haired girl on that disgusting couch in her sweatpants smiling underneath the shitty living room lighting, I knew I had been wrong all along. Maybe love didn't exist, but she did, and that was pretty fucking close.