Page 22 of In the Net (Sin Bin Stories #5)

SEBASTIAN

M y footsteps are loud on the hospital linoleum as I walk down the cold, sterile hallway to Bryce’s room.

When I told Coach I needed to take another whole day away from practice after coming back from France, with the opening game of the season even closer now, he looked at me like I must have lost my mind. But when I told him the purpose, he allowed it.

My nerves are frayed as I turn a corner, getting that much closer to seeing my best friend for the first time in over four years.

I couldn’t blame him if he just tells me to fuck off. It’ll hurt. But at least I won’t carry this guilt with me anymore. At least I’ll have closure: a clean cut setting me free from the past.

But I don’t want to be free of the past. I don’t want a clean cut from a friendship that meant as much to me as any relationship I’ve had in my life.

My chest clenches when I look down the hall and see Bryce’s mom.

His family were always good to me. I wonder what Bryce told them to explain why we stopped hanging out, when we used to see each other every day, or damn close to it. I wonder what they think of me. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s nothing good.

His mom turns to me. Surprise spreads over her face. My stomach gets tighter.

“Sebastian,” she says. “Oh my gosh. It’s so nice to see you.”

The hard knot in my throat loosens a bit at her words.

“Hi, Mrs. Newman.” Fuck, how long has it been since I spoke those words? I feel like a kid again with them just on my lips.

“You came to see Bryce.” She says it with a smile, like she’s so glad I have.

I nod. Even though I’m still tense, the smile she beams on me is so infectious that my lips are ticking. “Yeah. I saw the news, and …” I trail off.

She nods eagerly. “You can go in. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“You think?”

A glimmer of gladness sparkles in her eye. “I’m sure.”

I step into Bryce’s room. Apprehension and uncertainty roll through me. The knots that the interaction with his mom loosened pull tight all over again.

Even though I’ve been reading every new Instagram post and have seen tons of pictures his mom’s posted confirming that he’s getting better, it’s still a shock to the system to see him lying in a hospital bed like this.

The tubes are out of his mouth, but he’s still hooked up to machines monitoring …

I don’t know what the hell they monitor.

His heart rate and other stuff, I guess.

Either way, the sight is a reminder of how close I came to never being able to see him again, and that’s enough of a jolt to sharpen my courage and make me approach his bedside.

He looks at me. “Sebastian.”

A long beat of silence ticks by. I can’t read any emotion in his voice or in his expression.

“Hey, Bryce.” It feels like such a dumb, empty greeting after all this time, but I don’t know what else to say.

A longer beat of silence passes. Then, a shallow grin tilts on Bryce’s face.

“Where you been, man?”

He asks it like we’re still eighth-grade kids who’d meet up at his house after school every day to watch YouTube and play video games, and I’m just an hour late.

I try to laugh, but my throat is too clogged. All I can do is take one step closer to grip the railing on the side of his bed.

“I’m sorry, Bryce,” is all I can think to say when my throat unclenches.

He just shakes his head, more understanding than I could have imagined in his eyes. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

“Like hell I don’t.” Is he full of some kind of Zen, post-near-death-experience wisdom or something? Because, yeah, I wanted him to forgive me, but I kind of want him to take it out on me too, a little bit. I deserve it.

“What, you were the one driving the car?” he quips.

I narrow my gaze at him. Just like this son of a bitch to make me want to laugh even at a moment like this. “Not funny.”

He fixes a wry look at me. “Over-sensitive.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m sorry. I’ll say it again, because I do have something to be sorry for. I was an ass, it was my fault we fought, and I wasted years and years being too stupid and too much of a coward to tell you that.”

His shoulder tilts under his hospital gown. “You had your own life to live.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t as good without you in it.”

Forgiveness shines in his eyes. “Same here, man.”

I let out a heavy sigh, pulling a chair up next to his bed and dropping my weight into it.

“You’re not mad enough at me,” I say. “You should want to kick my ass or something.”

He huffs a laugh. “Well, I’m tired. If you haven’t heard, I was just in a car accident.”

“Fuck, dude, stop joking like that.”

“I’m the one in the hospital bed, I’ll joke however I want.”

We spend the next hour laughing, reminiscing, and catching each other up on what’s been going on in our lives.

I was wrong to treat Bryce, and others, the way I did years ago. Wrong to spend my entire freshman year of college as a cocky jerk until Coach and some of the older members on the team whipped me into shape.

I leave the hospital knowing that I have a best friend again. There’s no price you can put on that. I don’t know if it would be the case right now if not for Harper.

And there might just be a way to pay her back.