Rumor Has It: The Complete Series
Page 106
“Hey.” My voice is low, uncertainty still running through me. Then I’m hit with a gut punch.
“What do you want?” she asks, her shock wholly worn off in a matter of seconds, and now she stands in front of me, apathetic.
“Uh, happy New Year to you, too.” As she rolls her eyes, I realize my joke fell on deaf ears. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. What do you want?”
“Who is it?” Tara rushes over and stops in her tracks when she sees me. “Oh. Hey, Taylor.”
“Hey.”
Turning around, she sneaks away, leaving us alone. The silence drifts between us and I have no idea what to say to her. She’s obviously put off by me being here. I knew I might’ve messed this up, but I never thought she’d be as mad as she seems. She’s the one who told me to get my life figured out in the first place.
Footsteps behind me break my attention, and I turn around to see a guy walking over to us—my height, chocolate brown eyes, and black hair that’s short and slightly parted to the side. He’s wearing jeans and a dark blue button-up shirt as if he’s going out on a date. My eyes jump to Sasha, who looks at the guy and then back at me.
The guy looks at Sasha and then the door. “Oh, uh … this is—”
“Jake?” Sasha quickly asks. Does she not know who he is? Is this Loverboy?
“Yeah. I’m—”
“You’re early,” Sasha says, her gaze turning to meet mine, before waving him over to her. “Come inside. Have a seat.”
“Oh. Okay.”
My eyes jump back and forth, from him to her, trying to understand what’s going on. My shock’s worn off, as has my uncertainty, and now annoyance is building up. Jake—pft, Jake—walks past her, offering a friendly smile, and she lets him in and then closes the door behind him, leaving us standing in front of the door.
“Who the hell is that?” I ask, unable to hide the indignation.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Sasha, is that a date?”
“First of all, like I said, it’s none of your business. Secondly, he is a date, okay? A blind date. Tara set us up.”
“Are you kidding me?” Unable to contain myself, I throw my hands in the air.
“Me? Am I kidding you? You got a lot of nerve showing up here, acting like I’m the one in the wrong.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Sash, I’m here for you. No, screw that, I’m here because of you. You told me to get right, and that’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Ha!” She lets out an incredulous scoff. “Oh, no shit. Yeah, you’ve really been getting right.”
Running my hand through my hair in frustration, I ask, “What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing, Taylor. Okay? It means nothing. You do you since that’s all you want to do anyway. Go have a happy New Year with Celery McGiggles.”
“Celery who? What are you talking about?” Clenching my fists, I shake them off, trying to calm down, and figure out this entire situation. “Sasha, please. I’m sorry, okay? Let’s just discuss this. What are you talking about? Are you really …”
My words stop, not wanting to think about her being done with me. She’s the first person I’ve wanted to be with since Reese, and to think that that’s over now— No. I can’t think like that.
“What the hell is going on, Sasha?”
“Taylor, just go home.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shakes her head. “Look, if you’re doing better, that’s great. I did want that for you. Truly. But maybe … maybe that’s what you needed. Someone like me to get your life back on course.”
“No. What? No, that’s not what I needed. I didn’t need someone like you, I need you, Sasha. I want you.”
“You don’t.”
“How can you say that? I do.”
“Just go home.”
“Let’s just—”
“Go home, Taylor!” she says through her teeth. Crossing her arms in front of her, she stares down at the ground. “Please.”
She doesn’t lift her gaze, and suddenly I know exactly what she must’ve felt this past couple of months while I was keeping up my walls, blocking her out. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay and get in an argument and have her yell at me. Anything to get through this. But she just stands there, keeping her guard up, never meeting my eyes, and I know it’ll be fruitless.
“Fine.” Turning away, I head back to my bike, knowing I screwed everything up.
Chapter 33
Sasha
Taylor walks away, and I keep my head low until I hear his bike turn on. Finally looking up, I gaze out across the parking lot and find him staring at me. Our eyes lock for a moment, and then he shuts the visor on his helmet before driving off.
Heading back inside, I find Tara standing there waiting for me, Felicia behind her, sitting on the couch next to Jake.
“You okay?” Tara asks quietly.
Shaking my head, I look over at my sister and her date from last night.
I know exactly why I did it. Because when he saw Jake behind him, I wanted Taylor to feel what I felt when I saw him with that girl in the supermarket. I wanted him to feel alone and hurt like he made me feel. And maybe I shouldn’t have—not only because it was one big, fat lie, but because he’s already felt alone and hurt enough in his life—but I couldn’t help myself.
Heading to the kitchen, Felicia calls out to me, “Sasha, you sure you don’t want to come out to brunch with us?”
“No,” I reply, walking into the kitchen. “You guys have a good time.”
Tara, following me into the kitchen, wraps her arms around me. “I heard some of that through the door. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“It’s okay.” I pull out the egg carton from the fridge, along with some veggies. “It had to be done.”
“Did it?” she asks.
“’Kay, bye, you guys,” Felicia yells out to us.
“Bye,” I yell back, hearing the front door close. “Tara,” I return to our conversation, taking down a bowl and starting the burner on the stove, “of course it did. You saw what I saw. Look, even if they aren’t together, what was that? Did he need a cleanser or something and now he’s coming to his senses and wants to start over with me?”
“Okay, that seems a little weird, even if he is messed up. But you didn’t even call him out, Sash.”
“Why bother?” I whisk the eggs together before pouring them into a pan over the stove. “He’ll either confess and tell me he did it or he’ll lie. Both options would suck.”
Throwing in the veggies, a mixture of green bell peppers and mushrooms, I stir them into with the eggs, scrambling it all together. Tara stands at my side, quietly, and I’m left with my thoughts over the hot pan.
It feels horrible now, but it’s for the best. We tried, and it didn’t work out. Clean break, right? I might as well get on with my life, and now he can get on with his.
Turning off the stove, I grab a plate and scrape out the contents of the pan onto it, the steam from the hot food drifting up. Grabbing a fork, I hop up on the counter, holding the plate in my hands.
“What are you doing?” Tara looks at me, then stares at the plate. “You’re eating eggs?”
“I might as well eat how I feel.”
“Oh, jeez!” Taking the plate from me, she rakes the contents into the trash can and puts the plate in the sink. “I am so not letting you do that. Come on.” She grabs my hand, pulling me out of the kitchen. “Go get a jacket and put your shoes on.”
“Why?”
“There’s this little café next to your sister’s office. I saw that they’ll be open today.”
“I don’t want to go out. I just want to stay here, eat eggs, and feel miserable all day.”
“Exactly. And that’s the reason we’re getting out of this apartment. Go!”
* * *
Arriving at the café about thirty minutes later, both of us still look like we just woke up. I have on my yoga pants, a fluffy hoodi
e, and opted for my UGG boots instead of sneakers to keep my feet warm. Tara’s in loose hanging sweats and a pullover, with her hair all over the place, pulled up in a bun. As much as I hate to admit it, it does help to get out. I don’t feel as bad as I did at home. I start to think this day may get better … until our waitress stops by.
“Hey, girls,” she says, the perkiness dripping from her voice. Looking up at her, I recoil in horror. It’s Celery McGiggles. “What can we get for you?”
Tara’s eyes pop open, and she looks over at me. I cringe in my seat, unsure how to react. She has no idea who I am, but that doesn’t help matters. I see her name tag, which reads Claire, and it makes me feel worse. I always liked the name Claire. It would’ve been so much better if she had a stupid, ugly name. Like … Dumb Girl.
“Um,” Tara clears her throat, staring at her. “Uh, what do you suggest?”
“Oh.” She practically jumps up and down. “The eggs Benedict. It’s the best.”
Trying to gather some sort of mental balance, I return my attention to the menu. “I’m not a big fan of eggs. Anything else?”
“Um … our French toast is delicious. Though, it’s made with eggs, so …”
“That’s okay.” I wave her off, still not looking up at her. “I can eat stuff made with eggs, just not eggs themselves.”
She giggles. “That’s weird.”
Her comment, harmless as it is, makes me shoot my eyes up at her. “Is it? Is it weird?”
Tara kicks me under the table, mouthing ‘Chill out.’
“Sorry,” I tell Claire, but look back down at my menu. “You know, how about I just get a club sandwich.”
“Okay, great. My boyfriend loves those.”
My head snaps toward her again, my eyes narrowing. She did not just say her boyfriend. What in the hell? Did Taylor really come to my place barely an hour ago, telling me he wants me, but this chick is calling him her boyfriend? I can’t help my next words.
“Your boyfriend? Seriously?”
“What?”
“How long have you gone out? Only a couple weeks? What a joke!”
“Sasha,” Tara grills me, slapping my hand.
“Um, do I know you?” Claire looks at me, perplexed.
“No, but I know you.” I throw my finger in her face. “You’ve got a lot of nerve thinking he’ll be something that you can stake a claim to. Oh!” I throw both of my hands into the air. “But then again, maybe you can. Maybe he got all of his issues worked out, thanks to me being a shoulder for him to cry on, and now he gets to go out with some other girl.”
“Sasha, calm down.” Tara pulls at my arm.
“What are you talking about?” Claire slides her order tickets into her apron, and her pen into the bun in her hair. “How do you know David? And what do you mean a shoulder to cry on? He doesn’t have any issues.”
“Oh, honey, they’ve all got issues. Believe me, whether their name is Alex or Lucas. Taylor or David, they’ve all got major—” Looking over at Tara, I see her brows knit in confusion. My head snaps back and forth, between her and Claire.
“David?” I finally spit out.
She nods. “My boyfriend.”
“Wait, wait. David? David is your boyfriend? Who’s David?”
I look over at Tara, unsure why I think she’d have the answer, and then back at Claire, who stares at me like I’m crazy. I honestly feel like I just fell off the deep end.
“David Franz. I went to school with him. We’ve been going out for almost a year now.”
“Wait, wait … What? David Franz? Who the hell is David Franz?”
Staring at me like I’m having a psychotic break, she blinks. “I just told you. My boyfriend.”
“What about Taylor?”
“Taylor?”
“Taylor Hopkins? Square jawline, hazel eyes you can drown in. Works out and has biceps for days?”
“Oh!” Her perky smile returning, she nods to herself. “Taylor. Yeah, I know Taylor. He’s my personal trainer through the gym I go to.”
“Your what?” I practically scream.
“Personal trainer?” Her confused expression returns. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“No, I’m pretty far from okay. Sorry, we have to go.”
Grabbing Tara’s arm, I pull her out to my car and start the ignition. “What are we doing?” she asks.
“Oh my God, I’m such an idiot. I need to find him.” Holding the steering wheel, I realize I don’t have the first clue of where to look. I don’t know where he lives now, and I deleted his number days ago. “Do you have Micah’s number?”
“No, I just talked to him when I’d see him on campus.”
“No!” I slam my head against the steering wheel. “You were right, I should’ve just confronted him on everything, then I wouldn’t have gotten into this. What do I do?”
Staring over at her, I watch as she cringes in sorrow, raising her shoulders. No way to contact Micah; I know he lives with his friend, Ethan, but don’t have the first clue how to get a hold of him. He doesn’t work at the gym he used to, and I don’t know the new gym he’s working at now.
“Wait, the beach!”
“The beach?”
“Yeah.” I nod, pulling out of the parking lot. “He goes there from time to time.”
“And you think he’ll be there right now?”
I shrug. “I have no idea, but it’s my only lead.”
Dropping her off at home, she wishes me luck, and I drive to the beach spot Taylor shared with me. Thoughts of what I’m going to say to him if I find him run through my mind, starting with apologizing. Then wondering how he’ll react to me acting like I’m dating someone else to get back at him. But all of the worries placate themselves as I reach the beach parking lot. I don’t see his bike anywhere.
Hoping that he is here and just parked somewhere else, I get out and start to head to the small cliff. Even from a distance I can see above and don’t see him. Biting my lip in defeat, I keep walking to the peak.
Gazing out over the coast, as the waves crash down below, I take a seat in the sand. I remember Taylor running his fingers over the sand, so I do the same. Even feeling like a complete jerk for what I did, a certain calmness floats around me. He said he came here to talk to Reese. I didn’t, and still don’t, think it’s weird. I was listening to everything he told me when we were here, and even if I never felt or went through what he went through, I sympathized. Maybe it’s because of that, that I find myself wanting to talk to the girl who had his heart first.
“Um, hi, Reese,” I whisper. “You don’t really know me, I don’t think. I mean, Taylor might’ve brought my name up, but … I don’t know.”
Releasing a long breath, I try to focus.
“He’s a great guy.” I let out a small chuckle. “A little rough around the edges, but now I understand why. I never knew you, but if you were anything like him, I’m sure you guys would’ve been great together. Once I find him, I just want you to know, I won’t ever ask him to give you up. You had him first, and I know there’s a piece of him that’ll always love you. A piece of him that I’ll probably never have, and that’s okay. But it’s those other pieces I want. I need.”
I’m sure it’s just the beach, the waves breaking over the sand, that pushes the air around. But a light breeze runs over me, and even though it’s cold, it makes me think she’s listening.
“I do love him. I’d like to think he loves me but is scared. Scared of losing you. He doesn’t have to be. I’ll never replace you, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to rewrite your guys’ chapter, I just want my own with him.”
A small piece of me hopes to see him in the distance, so I look back up the trail I walked. Unfortunately, I don’t. The waves crash again.
“I guess I’ll get going now. Thanks for listening.”
Rising, I dust myself off. I still have no idea where I’m going to find Taylor. So I do the only thing I can think of—head back to the café, swallow my pride, a
pologize, and find out where he works.
Chapter 34
Taylor
Two days ago, I was hoping to get everything back on track in my life. To actually start having a life again, after aimlessly drifting along, random hookup after random hookup. And I guess, in a way, I am getting my life back in order. It’s just not the way I hoped.
I don’t understand what the hell happened that day at Sasha’s. And as much as I’ve wanted to go back to her door, call her, or stalk her by creeping around outside of the restaurant she works at, I can’t do it. She made her choice, and she did it because of me. I’m the one who pushed her away. Sure, she told me I needed to figure it all out, but that’s because I never manned up and figured my life out from the beginning. For years I hid from everything, and now I’m paying for it.
I’m not lost like I was when everything initially crumbled between us. I know I have to get through this, so I’m not blocking everything or everyone out.
After it happened, I went over to Micah’s and told him. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t think it was good to go home and be alone either. We went to the movies with his girlfriend, and then yesterday, I started looking over my schedule for the upcoming semester.
Today I’ve tried to focus on work. A few more people are signing up for personal training sessions since it’s the new year and everyone starts off with resolutions. That should help me, as far as keeping me occupied.
“You okay?” Claire asks, finishing up on a leg machine.
“Yeah.” I nod, looking over my clipboard and her progress chart. “I’m always okay, Claire.”
She giggles. “Oh, I bet. Seriously, though. You seem a little distracted. Still recovering from New Year’s parties?”
“Ha, no.” I walk with her over to another leg machine. “Not much partying for me. Not unless you count chocolate milk parties, while marathoning Disney movies.”