by Mae, Cassie
He snuggles into the crook of my neck, sending these weird chills down my spine. I hope he turns the heater back on. His voice is all shaky when he says, “Call your parents, and we’ll go.”
I pull back to get my cell, but his arms keep me close to his face. He’s got five o’clock shadow on his chin, right over that dimple. I want to ask him when the last time he shaved was, which is stupid. Why does that matter right now?
Mom answers and asks if I’m okay. I say, “Yup,” and fill her in on what’s going on. I hang up and slide back to my side of the van.
“She said to call her when we find them.”
Wesley starts the engine back up. “You want to try Reagan again? Or Talon?”
I want to say, What’s the point? I don’t, since that won’t help the mood at all, and I clack another message, to Talon this time.
Seriously. Call. Text. Do SOMETHING! I’m worried. Wesley’s worried. We want to know you’re okay, then you can ignore us the rest of the night. But we won’t stop bugging you till you answer.
Wesley drives to the nearest gas station, and I raise an eyebrow.
“You need Red Bull, right?” He smiles, the first real smile I’ve seen all day. The one that makes his chin dimple twitch. I punch his shoulder and follow him out of the van and into the shop. At least Wesley is here, to give me one worry-free moment.
He grabs me two Red Bulls and himself a couple of waters. When we get to the counter, I realize my wallet is snuggled in my purse, which is at home.
“Crap, Wesley. I don’t have my wallet.” I hate that excuse. It makes me feel like a mooch. “Can I pay you back?”
“What kind of guy would I be if I let you pay?”
“It’s not like this is a date.”
“I know.” He shrugs and slides cash onto the counter. “But it helps fill up my man card.”
“Oh, so now you’re up to one manly thing?” I joke as I crack open a can. He throws a look my way and takes his change. Before sticking it in his coat pocket, he examines the coins, separating all the silver ones from the pennies.
“Okay, one for you,” he says, pushing a penny into my palm, “and one for me.”
I eye the coin before wrapping my fingers around it. “Oh thank you, Wesley! Now I don’t have to worry about money ever again!”
“You dork. It’s for luck. You know, lucky penny? It’ll help us find our two loser friends who won’t call us back.”
And he calls me the dork.
Two Red Bulls and four hours later, still nothing. As panicked and energy-laced as I am, I can’t help my eyes drifting closed around two o’clock. But really, no one can blame me. I was up way late last night too.
Wesley yawns next to me, then shakes his head, throwing his hair around. He does this weird thing with his lips like he’s mimicking a horse, then pulls to the side of the road. “All right, I have to sleep. I don’t remember the last twenty minutes.”
I wish I could argue, but I can’t. “Can you take me home? Or are we going to sleep in the back?”
He shrugs and yawns again, and right there is my answer. I unbuckle and crawl into the third-row seats in the van, grabbing one of the blankets he has back here. I chuck it to him before grabbing another one for myself.
“Wait a second.” Wesley tugs on my coat, pulling me away from the seat I was about to doze on. He yanks on a few levers, grunts a couple thousand times, and gets the backseat folded in. Yawning, he takes the blanket from my arms and spreads it out on the van floor. He looks hilarious maneuvering his long frame around, trying not to smack his head or feet or anything else. Also his coat is so bulky it takes him a good two minutes to get that blanket straight.
My job is to hold one of the corners and to not laugh. I succeed at one.
He rolls onto his back, letting out an exhausted-sounding sigh, like he ran a million miles, and a cloud rises from his lips. We are totally going to turn into ice pops in here.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive us home?” I offer, shoving my hands in my pockets. “It’s going to be cold.”
He shakes his head, his eyes closing. “I can barely move. And I know you’re coming down from your Red Bull high. I’d rather be cold for a couple of hours than dent the hood.”
“Or your skull.”
“Or yours.”
I let out a breath and shiver.
“I won’t bite, Kayla. And there won’t be any awkward drool this time.”
My tongue twirls between my teeth. It will be warmer next to him. “Do you have anything for a pillow?”
He throws his arm out, still using his other hand as his own pillow. I guess his arm is better than his lap, since nothing will be poking me in the nose when I wake up.
“You better not grope anything in your sleep,” I tell him.
He nods. Yeah, he must be really tired if he’s not going to respond to that one.
I throw off my shoes and put my feet against his legs the second I get next to him. He shivers but lets me keep them there. Another night with Wesley. It’s crazy, but we’re pretty far from our houses and I really don’t want a semi running into us because Wesley couldn’t stay in his lane.
The arm I’m using as a pillow curls under my head, pulling me right up against his body. Both our puffy coats serve as a good buffer, because we are seriously spooning. I want to crawl away, smack him, but my body doesn’t. He’s just so warm, it’s making me even sleepier.
“You know,” he mumbles into my curls, “we’d be warmer if we were naked under this blanket.”
I kick him hard in the shin. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I am. I’m sleep-talking, so I’m not responsible for anything I say.”
“Is that how this works?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Okay. Let’s get naked and make this really interesting.”
Wesley chuckles, yawns, and squeezes the puffy coat covering my arm. When did his hand get there? “I can’t move. You’ll have to undress me.”
“In that case, no deal. I can’t move either.” That is no joke. My limbs have melted into the floor of the van.
“Rain check, then.”
I feel his breathing go from normal to slow and deep, and a few minutes later he’s lightly snoring in my ear. Instead of annoying, it’s sort of soothing. I must be really tired too. My eyes close and I swear they are back open within two seconds. Wesley is above me, shaking my shoulder. “Hey, Talon texted back.”
Tired and relieved, I let a gush of air zoom from my lips and I take the phone from Wesley’s outstretched hand.
We’re fine.
“That’s it?”
He nods and makes his way back into the driver’s seat. “I’m going to take you home. It’s seven and your parents have called about thirty times.”
I curl up in the blanket, too tired to care I’m not buckled in. That’s the text we get after being up all night looking for them? I want to kick some ass through my phone. But I let my eyes close and think of Talon and Reagan, and I’m more relieved than angry. And for some reason I keep thinking of Wesley’s arm and wishing he was still back here letting me sleep until I’m ready to get up.
“Do you want me to walk you in?”
How did we end up at my house so fast? I must’ve fallen asleep within a millisecond.
“Um, no. That’s okay. I’ll call you later.”
He covers a yawn as I wave goodbye. There’s no way we’re going to make the trip back to school today. He better sleep all day to get ready for the trip, and I’ll join him. Not in bed. I mean, I’m ready to flop on my bed and never leave.
But the second I step in the house I’m greeted with blue eyes, dark hair, and muscled arms. I want to smack the sexy god, but my hands are trapped against his chest.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry, Kayla.”
I take it back. I don’t want to abuse him at all. “Where were you? Is Reagan okay? What happened?”
Talon lets me go and I shrug ou
t of my coat, waiting for him to answer me. He scratches the back of his head, eyes my parents, who are pretending not to listen in the living room, then blows out a breath. “We … we broke up.”
Step 17:
Don’t Feel Guilty
(You wanted this to happen!)
I’m somewhere on the moon. My feet left my shoes and rocketed me off the earth and landed me there. I’m trying to find air to breathe, but nada. I’m trying to figure out where all my limbs are, but I can’t figure that out either. It’s just a repeat of what Talon said, over and over in my brain.
I’m still asleep. I’m in the back of Wesley’s van freezing my butt off and dreaming that Talon and Reagan split and he’s running to me.
“Kayla?” Talon waves a hand in front of my face, and I blink a million times, slowly returning from my space journey. “Say something.”
“Why are you here?” Yes, that’s what spews from my mouth.
“Oh.” His face darkens to a shade of red I’ve only seen a couple of times from him. “Sorry. Yeah, I shouldn’t … I wanted to make sure … I needed to talk to you. But yeah. Totally get it. Sorry.”
He tries to shrug past me, but I block him. “Wait, I’m sorry. You can talk to me. I’m shocked, that’s all.”
“Honestly, so am I.” He smiles, and his face goes back to its normal color. He sure doesn’t look like he just got dumped. Or maybe he was the dumper. “Reagan hasn’t called, has she?”
I check my phone. “No.”
He pushes his lips together and nods. “Do you mind if we talk alone? I want to make sure this comes out right.”
My heart gets all wonky, like it’s tripping over a bunch of hurdles. I nod and lead him to my bedroom, ignoring the bizarro looks I get from Mom and Dad. I don’t blame them. I’m pretty damn confused myself.
“So,” I say, shutting the door behind him, “what happened?”
He gives a half shrug and slumps on the edge of my bed. “Come on, Kayla. You know things were shitty.” He goes face-first into my mattress, groaning. “Immsachadoosh.”
“What was that?”
He turns his head so his mouth isn’t muffled by my sheets. “I’m such a douche.”
What? “Why would you think that?” Talon is far from a douche.
“Because I am. I knew things weren’t working, and I kept dating Ray because I didn’t want to lose, you know, what we had.”
That made no sense whatsoever. He knew things sucked, but he didn’t want to lose them?
Apparently my mouth has been stuck in the open position, because he grimaces and says, “That came out weird.” Well, at least he agrees with me. “Let me try again. A few weeks ago, things sort of shifted in our relationship and I didn’t know how to get it back. But I didn’t want to break up because I didn’t want to ruin our”—he waves his forefinger between me and him—“friendship.”
He’s going to have to push my jaw back up.
Was I hallucinating when I saw them attacking each other the other night? What the hell happened in that room? Maybe the sex sucked? No, neither of them would be that selfish to dump each other over a lousy lay. Not like me and Wesley, who wiggled our way between our best friends just to take what we wanted. We’re the selfish ones.
Now that it’s happened, I’m not sure how I feel about it. My heart’s still pumping gallons of blood through my body with every thump, like, Yay! This is happening! But I’ve got a sick aftertaste in my mouth.
“So that’s why I wanted to talk to you. And Reagan said she wanted to talk to Wes. We don’t want this to break us all up. Do you think that even though she’s your best friend, me and you … we can still be tight?”
Mutual breakup, and Reagan’s not making me swear off the guys. They’re encouraging each other to still be friends. I may be naive in anything relationship-wise. But are they crazy? Or did Wesley and I pull this off way better than we planned?
This darn aftertaste is really starting to make me sick. This is good, but I can’t help but feel yucky about it. I wonder if Wesley feels the same way, or if he’s doing a fist pump and yelling “whoot-whoot” all over his room while Reagan smacks him for being insensitive. The image alone makes a small burst of laughter erupt from my mouth.
“Wow. Didn’t think it was that insane to ask, but okay.” Talon sits up, his face coming awfully close to mine. Out of habit I lean back.
“No, no. Sorry, I was thinking about something else … never mind. It’s stupid.” I elbow his shoulder, feeling super weird doing it. “But yeah, I think we can still be friends. I mean, it’s not like we dated, right?”
“Yeah, but Reagan and I know about that best-friend code or whatever. About exes and all. We’re saying screw the code. The four of us are the shit together.”
“For real.” I bite my tongue a little harder than usual. Okay, we’re still friends, but hello, weird! Where do we go from here? How can I act normal around him now that he’s available? I was super bad when he wasn’t, and now … ack! Such pressure.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?”
I laugh, trying to relax next to him. “A little.”
“Sorry. I just … I can talk to you about this. Wesley would give me crap, and Reagan … well, we spent all night talking.”
He does look tired. And a little sad.
“Well, I’m all ears.”
“You witnessed the blowout.” He pauses, his face and ears going pink. I don’t mention that I also witnessed how quickly they made up. “We want different things. She’s not happy with me, and I don’t know what else I can give her. That’s it, I guess.” He stops again, his ocean eyes flicking to mine. “Even though I sort of knew it was coming, it still hurts.”
Be comforting, Kayla. He’s totally on the rebound, and you can’t screw this up by pouncing on him too fast.
I close the two inches separating us. “Of course it hurts. You were together for a year. It’s okay to be upset about it.”
He sighs. “Is it okay to not be upset about it? Does that make me an awful person?”
I shake my head. He could never be an awful person.
His mouth quirks at the corner. “It hurts, but I’m not upset. I think I’m still trying to process it.” That makes two of us. “Thanks for listening. I guess I don’t have much to say about it.”
“That’s okay.”
He slowly stands, and I wish he’d talk to me more. Give me details other than they fought and couldn’t make up this time. But he’s so tired, and I’m sleepy too, and I really don’t want to push my luck. I’m damn lucky he came to me in the first place.
He pauses at the door, staring at it so long I think he may have fallen asleep.
“Talon?”
His fingers tap the knob, and he says, “I’m sorry about your gift.”
“What?”
“Your Christmas gift. I had something else in mind for you, but I didn’t want to offend Reagan by getting you something that might make her upset.”
“Why would it make her mad?”
“It was that bracelet I saw you eyeing. The one you said looked like your mom’s survivor one. Reagan would’ve flipped, you know? Thought there was something going on between us.” He half grins, and I can’t ignore the way his eyes go over my body. I’m not sure what’s so fascinating, because I spent the night in Wesley’s van, and I’m sure I look like the living dead. He gives me a full smile and his eyes go back up to my face. “In hindsight, I wish I would’ve gotten it for you.”
If he had done that, I’m sure the reason for the breakup would’ve been because I would’ve attacked my best friend’s boyfriend in front of everyone. I almost want to do that right now. “It’s not a big deal. I liked what you got me.”
He shrugs. “Still.” His hand goes through his dark hair before landing back on the doorknob. “I’ll see you later? I’m sure Reagan is going to want to talk to you today, so I better run. But we can hang out later maybe?”
Hang out. Like a date? Or like normal? A
nd is he talking only me and him or the four of us? Oh, complicated much?
Instead of asking all those questions, I say, “Sure.”
He leaves me with a smile and a tired wave, and I fall back on the bed. Where is my head? Am I happy? I don’t know. Am I sad? I don’t know. Do I even want Talon this way, if it means I had to backstab my friend? I don’t know!
Oh, Wesley. What did we just do?
Progress Report: December 27
I tried to sleep, but yeah … that’s not happening. Talon freaking Gregory was in my bed, telling me about his breakup, totally and completely vulnerable and oh so cute and oh so sad at the same time. I have no idea what to think. I need to talk to Wesley. I need him to console me or something, which is stupid! I’m not the one who should need consoling or calming down or any of that. This is what I wanted, damn it!
*Smacks face with progress journal*
Great, now I have ink on my forehead.
Anyway, I did try to call Wesley, but I hung up after one ring because he’d kill me. Talon told me Reagan was with Wesley, and how screwed up would it be if I call him instead of her first? I had my chance to hear Talon out, so I should give Wesley and Reagan their time alone. Which will be a lot longer since Reagan is a chatter whore.
You know what’s really messed up? I’m sort of jealous. Freaking jealous! Reagan is now talking to Wesley—even before me, her best friend for more than half her life—and yeah, I talked to Talon, but I couldn’t really figure anything out with him. Wesley seems to make everything okay and make sense. Now I can’t help but feel that’s going to change. It’s weird that it’s making me sad.
What is happening to me? I can’t even think straight. I’m tired and can’t sleep. I’m confused and can’t think. I feel happy, or sad, or guilty, or jealous, and it’s not even that time of the month.
Grr … when should I call Wesley so I can figure this out?
Step 18:
Be Happy When Things Work Better than You Planned
(Try not to question it.)
Reagan rode back to school with me while Talon took the spot in Wesley’s van. I’ve had zero time to talk with Wesley since the breakup, but at least there’s no worries about awkward silence with Reagan. From the time we left home until we got back to Berkeley, her mouth didn’t close. I’m surprised her voice didn’t go out.
