ɢᴜʏ ɢᴇʀᴍᴀɪɴᴇ

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄. It's just one of the many things that California is known for--making you a star and burning up. 1994 has been one of the driest years in almost two decades. It does not rain, and no one expects it to.

But on July 23, 1994, nearly a month and a half after landing, the sky opened up. The clouds were a charcoal gray and looked to be filled with pounds of rocks when we entered the rink for the final practice. When we left, they rumbled and rolled. They let the rain fall and hit the ground, collecting in puddles. Water raced down windows and splashed through the roads. On July 23, 1994, 12% of the national population stayed inside. 32 million people cried out in joy for the end of the drought.

California looked dead that day, but really, it had never been more alive. I think that's what California and I had in common. We were finally living again.

"Can you imagine moving out here--this place being your home forever?" Jesse asked from beside me as we rode the team bus back to the dorms.

I lifted my head off the cold glass. "No, it doesn't feel very homey to me," I said. "There are way too many problems out here, anyways. I don't think I could handle all the pollution and overpopulation. What about you?"

"I don't know. I think maybe for a few years, while I'm in my twenties, it'd be cool. There are a lot of opportunities, you know?" he shrugged. "But as soon as I'm married, I'm out. I want to live in a nice, quiet neighborhood when I'm old."

"Cake Eater style?"

"That's the dream," Jesse grins. "I think I'd like to coach something. Maybe baseball or hockey."

"How long are you gonna be sticking with hockey?"

"End of high school probably. I can't really see myself playing on a college or minor team. I love it now, but I'm not Adam. It's not my whole life."

"Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?" I questioned.

"I don't think ahead like you, Guy. You want to be a doctor, and you'll be one. Everyone knows it," he said. "I feel like I haven't found my thing yet, you know?"

"Well, there's still time. You'll figure it out."

"What's with the interrogation all of a sudden?"

"I just feel like we haven't talked a lot recently. I know it's my fault and I'm sorry. You're my friend, Jesse. My best friend, actually."

Jesse smiled at me and put a hand on my shoulder. "I've been told I'd make a pretty kick-ass lawyer."

Jesse Hall has never been a sentimental person. But just because he doesn't talk about feelings doesn't mean he doesn't understand them. It doesn't mean he doesn't care, because he does. If anything, Jesse cares more than anyone.

"You do like to argue," I commented. "And one could say that you're rather convincing."

"And hey, if you ever have a surgery go wrong and need someone to defend you, you'll know who to call."

I laughed and shook my head. "Yeah, and if your client ever needs a medical scan, you'll come to me."

"We'd make a good team, wouldn't we?"

"Yeah, Jess. We would."

He glanced back a few rows at Mae and Adam, the two whispering things to one another. "When are you gonna talk to her, man?"

"I don't know, but I'll do it soon," I answered, staring at their touching shoulders. "Do you think there's something going on between them?"

"Adam and Maeve?" Jesse clarified. "Charlie would probably know better than me."

"Charlie," I muttered in an attempt to grab the boy's attention from the other side of the aisle.

"Yeah?" he responded, sliding his headphones down around his neck.

"Are Maeve and Adam like..." Jesse asked as Charlie's eyes widen. "Asking for a friend."

Charlie smiled when I hit Jesse's arm. "Which friend?"

"Just answer the question, Conway."

The brunette looked at the two, his face slightly turning pink. "Um, no. They aren't."

"Are you sure?"

Charlie's eyebrows drew together. "Positive. What gives you that idea?"

"Guy's trying to kiss Maeve again," Jesse blurted out.

I whacked him for the second time in the span of 20 seconds. "They just spend a lot of time together, that's all."

"Again?" Charlie repeated, a little louder than I would have liked.

"Okay, from now on, we whisper," I declared.

"You've kissed Maeve?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Twice," Jesse answered for me.

"To be fair, the first one was like when we were nine."

"But the second one was more recent?"

"Much more recent!"

"Shut up."

"Well, in that case," Charlie smirked. "I'm 100% sure Adam and Maeve are not together, in any way."

"Yeah, don't worry, Spazway," Jesse mumbled. "No one is trying to steal your man."

Charlie's face burns a deep red. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he murmured, placing his headphones back over his ears while hiding a smile.

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"𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊?" I ask the second she steps off the bus.

Maeve looks at Adam. "I'll take your bag," he offers to her before quickly walking after Charlie.

"Yeah, sure," she slowly nods, stepping towards the side of the bus as we awkwardly watch the rest of our team shuffle past us.

I ignore the stares from Connie and Luis. The cement under us is damp and marked with the imprint of wet shoes. I hear the downpour colliding with the overhang of the covered entranceway. The air is heavy and humid, but the breeze sends chills up my spine.

"I don't really know where to start," I admit, my hands rubbing together.

She pulls at her fingers until a small crack comes from each of them. "Guy, you don't have to give me this 'it was a mistake' talk. I get it. We had a fight and you were upset about Connie. You don't have to say anything."

I grab her wrist when she turns to walk away. "If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. I'll leave you alone, but I don't think it was a mistake." she's quiet for a moment as two American tennis players run under the shelter and into the front lobby. "Is that what you want?"

"No, that's not what I want. Not even a little bit," she shakes her head. "But Jesus, Guy. You can't just kiss a girl and then avoid her."

"Avoid you? I haven't been avoiding you."

"Yes, you have. I mean, we've had about one conversation since we..."

I wait for her to say it, but she doesn't. "Since we what, Mae? Finish it."

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Since we kissed, right?" I feel my voice fill with venom. "God, you can't even say it!"

"Oh, and you can?" she scoffs. "You drag me out in the pouring rain to have this conversation. You pull all this cliché bullshit because you're scared someone else is going to hear us, right?"

"I don't care about anybody else!" I say through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you want from me. You're mad that I don't talk about us, but now you're mad that I am. What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to make up your goddamn mind already! Do you want me or not, Guy?"

My jaw clenches. "It's not as simple as that and you know it."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because look at us, Maeve! We're a mess! We can't do this. We aren't the same kids who could spend days together--we can't even be around each other for minutes! This is toxic."

"And suddenly you're so above all this toxicity? Is that what this is?" she questions.

"That's not what I'm saying, Mae," I whisper because I'm tired of screaming. I'm tired of fighting. I would lay my armor down if she would, too. I ache to hold her.

"So what are you saying?"

I take a step closer to her and let my shaky hands rest on the sides of her face. "I think about you all the time. You know I do. But this--us--you know it would never work. We're both too stubborn and prideful to put the past four years behind us."

"If you don't want me, you can tell me," she says, closing her eyes. I can hear the hurt in her voice. "I can take it."

"I do want you. I've always wanted you."

"Then why won't you have me?"

I kiss her forehead and wrap my arms around her. "Because I know you better than I know myself, and if you think for a second that I wouldn't use that against you..."

"We hurt each other too much," Maeve mumbles into my chest. "I don't want to, but I can't stop. I'm sorry."

"I know, I'm sorry, too."

"I want you, Guy. But I still hate you. Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, Mae. That's just us. That's who we are."

I place my chin on the top of her head, and for while, I just hold her. I close my eyes, trying to savor every last second because I know this doesn't last forever. We're young and stupid. We are exactly like both of our parents, and that's what scares me. I do not want to be with someone that I can't stand, and I know she doesn't either.

Our want for each other is simply just a bad habit. But at the same time, nothing about it is simple.

"Every day," I start. "I wish I didn't walk away from you that day. I wish I had never kissed you when we were nine. I ruined us--what we could have been."

"I wish I knew you wanted me," she says, pulling away from me. "I wish I didn't push people out like my dad. I wish I didn't have so much hate in me like my mom. I wish you didn't drive me crazy when you left."

"I wish I knew how to love you." she looks down at my hands and slowly traces her fingers along mine. "You have no idea what you do to me."

My forehead rested against hers. I could smell her perfume. I could see the small scar under her lip from when she scraped it on the pool walls. She whispered my name and my insides were lit to flames. I had never craved anyone the way I craved her.

"Would it be a bad idea if I kissed you?" I ask.

"I don't care," she tells me.

I run my hand along her jawline. I lower my lips to hers. She tastes like vanilla and strawberries. Maeve Williams is a shock to the heart. She will forever be the most beautiful person. She will always be my first kiss and my first love. I will forever hate the way that I look for her first in a room. I will forever hate that I don't feel like myself until I'm with her. I don't think I'll ever move past these things, but I no longer will force myself to.

Maybe all I have to do is accept that the way I love her is buried so deep within me that it will take time to find. You can not go from hating to loving someone in a day. You have to drain the hate from your gut until all that's left is blood. I have to be okay with that. I have to be okay with the wait.

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a/n - the best part about writing the 730 series is getting to release the playlist at the end of the third book