to live for the hope of it all.

Chapter 3

August 15th, 2023

"'Cause I know I can treat you better
than he can,
And any girl like you deserves a gentleman..."

Beckett

The first time I was extremely tempted to punch Brady Peterson was in my junior year of high school.

The football team's locker room was under construction, so we were sharing ours for part time. He was a senior at the time, and he was bragging to his friends about "bagging" Bailey.

I tried to ignore him, I really did. But hearing him talk about her like that to his friends, like it was some sort of competition he was winning, I wanted to knock his lights out.

And I would have if Caleb hadn't dragged me out of the locker room after seeing my face.

After that day, every time I saw him I was tempted to hit him, the self control I gained daily was unreal.

But now, I want to do so much more than just punch the guy.

Maybe I'm biased because I spent every August 12th working on those colored origami flowers just so I could leave them at Bailey's for her birthday on the 13th, but if the look on her face when he destroyed them is anything to go by, they meant a lot to her too.

Thank you God, for making the countless papercuts worth it.

I'd had to school my anger when helping her pick up the pieces of my hard work, some of the pieces I had just put together a few nights ago, because she was clearly upset after breaking up with that bastard.

I'll make you more flowers, Bailey.

"So you've moved to watching her house from the driveway now?"

Fuck my life.

Without turning around, I can tell this asshole is smirking. Sure enough, there Caleb is, not even bothering to hide his teasing smile.

"No. She was just out here and I was helping her pick up some stuff."

Don't ask what, don't ask what.

"Some... stuff?" Caleb asks, eyebrow quirked. I sighed.

Here we go.

"Fucking Brady threw a tantrum and basically tore the tulips to shreds. I was just helping her pick it all up, not a big deal."

Lie.

"I hate that prick. Wait, you told her they were from you?" He asks, excitement and shock clearly written on his face.

"No! Can you be quiet?" I huff. "Jesus Caleb, she just went inside. Keep your voice down."

"Sorry, I just thought that's where this was going," he deflates.

"What are you doing here anyways? I just saw you at practice."

"Here for dinner and to see my favorite cou-"

"Caleb!" Delilah yells, breaking into a sprint down the front porch steps and into Caleb's arms.

"Cousin," he finishes, winking at me before heading inside with my sister on his hip. I laugh at the two before whistling for Beau and following them in.

Caleb Mitchell is my cousin, but he's also my brother and my best friend.

Our moms are sisters, and getting pregnant around the same time was not in the cards for them, but it was definitely in the cards for us.

There's never been a time where I have been in trouble and Caleb hasn't been right by my side in trouble with me, and vice versa. The guy was my rock during that hard year with my mom, and all the small things after that.

It's corny that he just so happens to be the goalkeeper to my midfielder position on the field. He's the first guy I look for during a celebration, on the field, and off it.

"Guess who your son was just talking to outside?" Caleb asks my mother as he pops a crouton from the salad into his mouth, mischief clear on his face as he looks at me.

Oh, you fucker.

"Who?" My mother asks, clearly interested after seeing Caleb's teasing. He turns to whisper into Delilah's ear, and my sister smiles big with wide eyes.

Amazing.

"He was talking to Bailey!" Delilah shouts. My mother looks over to me, giving me a look that I've received countless times when Bailey is the topic.

"That's lovely hon, maybe now y'all can carry a conversation at dinner next weekend," she smiles.

"We'll see," I say, grabbing plates to set the table. "Delilah, can you help me set the table?"

"Sure!" My sister shouts, wiggling out of Caleb's arms before running over to me and setting plates in each spot.

After that first dinner before freshman year with Grandpa Matt and Bailey, they became a regular thing we did pretty much every month now. Thankfully, we did them towards the end of the month, so I was always prepared for them now.

Lie.

The dinners usually consisted of Beau meeting and shaking Bailey's hand at the door, my sister talking everyone's ears off, my mom asking Bailey about school and what book she's currently reading, Grandpa Matt talking to me about soccer, and, if i'm lucky, he says something about Bailey's thoughts on a game that makes her face go red, and then he starts talking about what songs Bailey has down on the piano as of that week.

I love knowing that she pays attention to my games when they go, because as embarrassing as it is, I do try harder when she's there. Then I wait and wait for these dinners to come around just to hear through her grandfather what she has to say.

There was also a sick satisfaction that ran through me knowing that she was at my games on Friday nights and not Brady's football games. Though I know that has to do more with Grandpa Matt being at my games and her wanting to be with him.

She broke up with Brady tonight after dating him for more than a year, and I feel like a jackass for being happy about it. She was clearly upset, but I've witnessed Bailey go through so much worse from afar.

I hope she realizes she's much better off without that prick making her feel like she's any less than what she is.

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