“I’m sure you aced it.”
He shakes his head. “I doubt it. It was last week, and I haven’t received a call back asking to come in for a second interview. I’m pretty sure I blew it.”
“Where was the internship at?”
“Matrix Media Group.”
That’s one of the biggest media companies in the country. I’m not surprised Blake managed to snag an interview. He’s extremely talented and qualified.
“Wow, that’s amazing, Blake.”
“It would be amazing if I got the internship. I hate being in this limbo.” He dips his chin, threading his fingers through his hair.
“They will call you back, and if they don’t, fuck them.”
“Fuck them?” He chuckles. “It’s my dream company.”
“So?” I shrug. “If they can’t see what an amazing asset you would be to them, then they don’t deserve you.”
With a smile still on his lips, he glances at his laptop screen. “Only you could make me laugh in my current state.”
I lift my cup of coffee in a salute. “Well, at least I’m still good at something. I can’t promise I remember how to write though.”
Blake’s expression becomes serious again. “Writer’s block?”
“If only that were the case.”
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s my parents. I think they’re going to get a divorce.”
Blake glances at me again, his eyes as round as saucers. “Shit, Charlie. I’m so sorry. What happened?”
There’s a burning in my eyes and a knot in my throat that I try to swallow. Speaking about my family issues with Blake might not be the best idea. Troy never broaches the subject, and I’m grateful he doesn’t. But with Blake, it’s a different story. He’s almost part of the family, so of course he wants to know what the problem is.
“I don’t know. My mother has been complaining he’s working too hard, coming home late, and even working on weekends. She accused him of cheating. I think the situation has reached the boiling point.” My vision becomes blurry; the threat of a tear spill is very real. But I can’t stop now. I have to tell Blake everything. “My father has moved out of the house. I don’t know if he’ll come back.”
A sob escapes my lips just as hot moisture rolls down my cheeks, the first set of tears finally breaking free. I cover my face with my hands, ashamed that I couldn’t hold it together in front of Blake. I hate crying in public; it doesn’t matter that Blake is my oldest friend and he’s seen me at my worst.
I hear the scrape of his chair and then sense his approach. He swivels my seat, then lifts my hands off my face.
“You don’t need to hide your sorrow from me, Charlie.”
He pulls me up, making me stand so we’re almost at the same eye level. I still have to crane my neck a little to stare into his eyes since he’s a head taller than me.
“You know I hate crying. I feel so pathetic.”
He wipes my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “You’re not pathetic. This whole situation sucks. It’s okay to be sad. I wish you had confided in me sooner. I wouldn’t have bothered you about a stupid deadline.”
“I was in avoidance mode. If I didn’t talk about it, didn’t think about it, then I could pretend nothing was going on.”
“That’s just plain stupid.”
I hit his chest playfully. “I’m not stupid.”
“I know. But you sure act like it sometimes.”
I narrow my eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be consoling me, not making me feel worse.”
“You know me. That’s how I roll, babe.”
He chuckles, and I can’t help it, I laugh too.
Then I hug him, pressing the side of my face against his chest. I can’t remember the last time Blake and I had a moment like this. I guess since we broke up. That decision was mutual, and there were no lingering romantic feelings on either side. But I think we never wanted to cross the line and give the impression of the contrary. His hand goes to my head, and the soft strokes make me remember the time when we were five and I fell from my bike and scraped my knee. Blake did the same thing then too.
“Unbelievable.” Troy’s tight voice sounds in the room, making my blood run cold.
I jump back and turn toward the door. Blake makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat; I make no sound at all.
Troy is standing there, eyes blazing with fury as he holds a tray with two cups of coffee and a brown bag. He came to surprise me with goodies and found me in an intimate embrace with my ex. No wonder he’s glowering, his jaw locked tight.
“Troy, what are you doing here? I thought you had class.” I take a step forward, wiping away the remnants of my tears.
He doesn’t miss the gesture, which makes his angry expression soften a little. “Class was canceled. The teacher got the flu. I thought I’d surprise you. Funny how things worked out.”
His quip feels like a dagger piercing my chest. Even though his expression is no longer murderous, he’s still angry.
“Don’t get your panties twisted in a bunch, buddy. I was just consoling a friend in need,” Blake pipes up.
Troy narrows his eyes. “Right. And I was born yesterday.”
Shit. He’s not going to let this one go. It’s all Blake’s fault. If he hadn’t shown up at the house to have a talk with Troy, he probably wouldn’t be as furious as he is now.
“Oh, what’s in the bag?” I ask to change the subject.
He glances at it with a frown, almost as if he forgot he was holding it. “Uh, chocolate-filled croissants.”
My favorite. I only mentioned it once in passing, and he remembered. I feel guilty and moved at the same time.
Blake returns to his desk without saying another word to Troy.
Since Troy doesn’t seem inclined to move, I walk over and kiss him on the lips. It’s like kissing a wooden door. Damn it. I feel horrible even though I didn’t do anything wrong.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Why were you crying?”
“Because her parents are probably getting a divorce,” Blake replies bluntly.
“I was updating Blake on the drama, and I kind of lost it. He was just being supportive,” I explain.
“Hmm.” That’s all he says while he glowers at Blake.
What is he thinking?
“Come sit with me.” I tug his arm.
“I think I’ll go. Don’t want to take up more of your time.” He heads for the door, and then he’s gone. He didn’t even kiss me goodbye.
My heavy heart constricts further. In my current weakened state, the tears return to my eyes easily. It’s an effort to keep them from falling. I go back to my desk without glancing at Blake.
After a minute, he says, “I knew your boyfriend was an ass.”
“Shut up, Blake. Just shut up.”
40
CHARLIE
Troy doesn’t come home for dinner. I begin to worry and call him. It goes to voice mail. I don’t trust my voice at the moment, so I text him instead. My stomach is tied in knots as I wait for his reply. I get that he’s angry, but why can’t he just talk to me instead of giving me the silent treatment? That’s fucking mean.