10.)

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You check the time on your phone for the tenth time, pocketing it with a sigh and still hoping that he'd actually show up. You'd been debating the past ten minutes on why you decided to do this, why you decided to be the bigger person and reach out, but you knew that if you didn't, he never would. He no doubt hates you now more than he ever did before, but you wanted the chance to say your peace, leave the past behind you both.

Gabe offered to come with you, but you declined. Opted for meeting at King Cone while Jimmy and Willy and Zach worked the inside registers. They'd be able to watch and intervene if necessary, and you didn't miss Brady sitting in the corner either - hiding under a baseball cap and sunglasses, trying to be discrete, hoping you didn't notice.

The bell of the door draws your attention, as well as the attention of the boys behind the counter, and in saunters the man of the hour. He's wearing black sweatpants and a grey hoodie, the hood drawn up over the hat he's wearing on his head. When he spots you, he sits down across from you in the booth, removing his hood, but keeping his hat, the brim hiding his eyes from you.

"Hey." He murmurs, doesn't say much else or bother to look at you.

"Thanks for meeting me, Jacob," you say. "I promise I won't take too much of your time."

He mumbles something you don't catch, and you take that as your cue to keep talking. "I don't really care if you don't listen, or how you feel about me, or how angry you are at me, because I probably feel the exact same way about you, and at the end of the day, it's miniscule compared to the rest of our lives."

He raises a brow at you in suspicion, but doesn't interrupt. "I just want you to know that I'm not angry with you, or with Shawn, or with anyone. I've made peace with the situation, and with you. I get that I ruined your life when you were sixteen, and I'm sorry. Genuinely, I am. I didn't know what was going on in your life, and I didn't bother to care or ask, but I definitely didn't intend on you being sent to boarding school. I was just trying to protect Gabe."

You take another deep breath, letting all the words flow out of you. "All I knew was that you had done something wrong, and that Gabe was going to take the fall for you, and our parents would never look at him or Shawn the same way ever again if I didn't step in and tell them the truth. I didn't mean for you to get in trouble, I didn't want your mom to be upset with you, and I didn't want Gabe to have to lose you as a friend. I was just being his baby sister, and I was just trying to do my job and protect him."

"I get that boarding school sucked, and you had to make new friends, and that you blamed me for it all. I get that, I honestly do. But to hold that grudge for all these years? To be angry at me for five years? Angry enough that you'd do whatever it took to get even with me? That's...that's something I don't think I could fathom myself doing. But if it bothered you that much, to be angry enough that you had to be nice to me for few days in order for it to hurt me enough when you told me the truth...shit, I'm sorry Jacob. I really am sorry for the way I made you feel. I can't take back what I did, and I probably wouldn't, but I'm still sorry."

"I know that Shawn and my brother are still angry with you, and I know Mat and Cody are angry with you too. I've tried to talk to them about it, tried to get them to talk to you, but I don't think they will, not unless you make the first move and apologize." You take a deep breath.

"I know they kicked you off the lease. I'm sorry. And I don't want that and this whole summer to be another reason you hate me, and I'm kind of sick of you doing things to make my life more difficult, so I'd appreciate it if you could just reach out to them, talk it out like the friends you are, and I'm sure things would work out."

Jacob sits there and doesn't say a word. His face is stoic, hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he stares at you. You don't even know if he's been listening to you at all, and figure this is a lost cause.

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