Chapter Text
Keefe was running late. Not terribly late, but still late. It wouldn’t ruin anything (he hoped), but would still be an inconvenience. As he snuck into his room, cursing that he had lost track of time, his pocket started buzzing. He pulled out his phone and saw that Sophie was calling him. He immediately picked up.
“What’s up, Foster?”
“Hi Keefe,” she said. “What are you doing right now?”
He could tell immediately that she had been crying. “Are you okay?”
She started crying again, and Keefe started internally kicking himself. “Could you come over?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to get you in trouble with Grady and Edaline.”
“I just really need to not be alone right now.”
Keefe sighed. “Be right there.” He hung up and called down the stairs. “I’m going out.”
“Where do you think you’re going, Funkyhair?” Ro asked, peeking her head around a corner to look up at him.
“Sophie needs some help.”
“Ohhhhh. You’re going to help your girlfriend.”
Keefe gritted his teeth. “We’re not dating, and you know that.”
“Sure you aren’t.” Ro grinned. “Be back before midnight, please.”
“What are you, my mother?”
“No, she’s nasty. I’m great. Now go help your girl.”
“Shut up!” Keefe called over his shoulder as he ran down the stairs and out to his car. His mind was racing the entire drive to Sophie’s house. What happened? Was she hurt? Did she receive horrible news? Did she have another flashback? He barely remembered not to park in front of her house in his hurry to get to her. He snuck around to the back of the house and climbed the tree that they always used to get in and out of Sophie’s room undetected. He tapped on her window, and she quickly opened it. After crawling in, he asked, “Are your parents home?”
Sophie hugged herself and said, “No. That’s why I needed you to come over. They’re out of town on a ‘difficult case’ or something. Philanthropic veterinary services or something.”
“Okay, but what happened that you didn’t want to be alone?”
Sophie sniffed and grabbed her phone. “I think it’s easier to just show you.” She opened her phone and turned it around to show her messages from Biana.
“What does Biana have to do with anything?” Keefe asked.
“Look at what she sent me.”
Keefe gently took the phone from Sophie and looked closely at what Biana had sent her. The conversation showed a picture of some sort of receipt with Biana asking if Sophie knew anything about it.
“Foster, what am I looking at?”
Sophie sniffed. “Fitz’s receipt.”
“Fitz, your boyfriend, Fitz?”
She sniffed again. “Yes.”
“His receipt for what?”
She tilted her head up to stare at the ceiling. “A hotel.”
“Oh, Sophie.” Keefe stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry.”
Sophie turned her head to bury her face in his shoulder and started crying. “I know it’s stupid, but why else would he be at a hotel?”
“I don’t know.” He started rubbing circles on her back. “Hotels are made for two night stays. Checking in and out. Meeting strangers in the lobby. Waking up…”
“And leaving town?” Sophie asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“The next part of our conversation. Biana told me that he’s not even in town anymore.”
“He left town?”
“Yeah. I’m too scared to call him and ask what’s going on.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I really like him, Keefe. I don’t know why he would do stuff like this. Am I not enough?”
“No Foster. You’re too good for him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You are one of the most amazing people I know. Anyone who knows you knows how sweet and compassionate and too good for all of us you are.”
Sophie laughed a little. “Thanks Keefe. I’ll try talking to him in the morning.”
“You gonna go to sleep now?”
“Yeah. Thanks for coming over. Sorry I interrupted your night.”
“It was no problem, Foster. Really.”
“Good night, Keefe.”
“Good night, Foster.” Keefe turned to the window and started climbing out. “Don’t do anything stupid without me.”
Sophie smiled. Keefe continued down the tree and out to his car. He drove home, blasting the most angry music he could think of. How it hadn’t occurred to him that the cause of his closest friend’s sadness was his former best friend was a mystery. He should have guessed that her crappy on-again, off-again boyfriend was the one who was causing her sadness. He whipped into his driveway and stomped into the house.
“Back so soon, Funkyhair?” Ro asked from the couch. “I thought you’d be gone at least an hour more.”
“She didn’t need that much help. Just someone to tell her that ‘Everything will be okay’, ‘You’re a great person’, ‘Your boyfriend is stupid’. All that dumb stuff.”
“It was Fitz again?”
“Yup. And now I’m going to bed. Good night, Ro.”
Ro looked at him with pity. “Good night. I’d say sleep well, but-”
“It’s highly unlikely that’s going to happen?”
“Yup.”
Keefe turned away and walked up to his room. He turned on angry music again, took a burning hot shower, and then got in bed. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before getting up, turning the music and his lights off, and then laying back down. He stared at the ceiling for a while before he eventually fell asleep.