The rise of the unorthodox

The walk back to the field felt heavier than I'd expected. Each step echoed with the weight of my thoughts, every doubt and regret pressing down on me. How was I supposed to approach Devin now? Would he even listen?

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, painting the world in warm hues of orange and gold. By the time I reached the field, Devin was still there. His punches had slowed, but the intensity remained. Each strike against the training dummy sent ripples through the air, the dull thud of impact underscoring his frustration.

I stood at the edge for a moment, watching him. This was the Devin I hadn't seen before—the one who carried his burdens alone, without letting anyone in. The sight made my chest tighten.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward. My boots crunched against the dry grass, and he glanced over his shoulder. His expression was guarded, his eyes unreadable.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning back to the dummy.

The sharpness in his voice stung, but I swallowed the hurt. This wasn't about me.

"I came to apologize," I said, keeping my tone steady. "You were right, Devin. I've been… selfish. Spending so much time with Wyatt, I didn't stop to think about how it might make you feel."

He froze mid-punch, his back still to me. For a moment, the silence stretched so thin it felt like it might snap. Then he exhaled slowly and turned around, leaning against the dummy.

"You think this is about Wyatt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an edge I didn't recognize.

I blinked, caught off guard. "Isn't it?"

Devin shook his head, running a hand through his damp hair. "Wyatt's just part of it. You don't get it, Bea. It's not about him. It's about us."

His words hit me like a thunderclap. My throat tightened. "Us?"

He nodded, his eyes locking onto mine. "You and I have always been a team, Bea. We've been through everything together. But lately… it feels like I'm just an afterthought. Like I don't matter anymore."

My heart sank. "Devin, that's not true."

"Isn't it?" he challenged, his voice rising slightly. "You're so caught up in Wyatt and his training that you don't even notice when I'm not around. I've been trying to figure out where I fit into your life now, and honestly? I'm not sure I do."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. He wasn't wrong.

"Do you even know why I started training alone?" he continued, his tone bitter. "Because I didn't want to get in your way. I didn't want to be the guy holding you back while you're busy chasing something bigger with Wyatt."

His words pierced through me, and guilt washed over me like a tidal wave. I'd been so focused on my own growth, my own goals, that I hadn't stopped to think about what Devin might be going through.

"Devin," I said softly, stepping closer. "You're not holding me back. You've never held me back. You're the reason I'm even here—training, fighting, growing. You're the one who believed in me when no one else did."

He looked away, his jaw tight. "It doesn't feel that way."

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I've been a terrible friend. I got so caught up in Wyatt's training that I didn't see what was happening right in front of me. But you do matter, Devin. You always have."

For a long moment, he didn't say anything. Then, slowly, he looked back at me. There was still hurt in his eyes, but something else, too—hope, maybe.

"Words are easy, Bea," he said quietly. "Prove it."

I nodded, determined. "I will. I promise."

A flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He straightened up, tossing his gauntlets aside.

"Well," he said, crossing his arms, "if you really mean it, let's start now. Show me what Wyatt's been teaching you."

I blinked. "What, now?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You said I matter, right? Then stop wasting time. Let's see if all this training is actually paying off."

A grin broke across my face despite the tension still lingering between us. This was Devin—the Devin I knew.

"Alright," I said, dropping my bag to the ground. "But don't expect me to go easy on you."

He smirked, the familiar spark returning to his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it."

As we squared off in the fading light, I felt something shift between us. There were still wounds to heal, still words left unspoken, but this was a start. For the first time in days, I felt like we were on the same page again.

And for now, that was enough.