I feel like I’m going to throw up as I message him back, but after what Gabrielle said, how I feel, and what I know about him, I don’t want to play games anymore. I want … him.
When I’m about to hit send, a message from him pops up.
- Your father thinks I pissed my pants because there was a wet spot on my jeans. I didn’t correct him and tell him his daughter left it there. After tonight, we’re even. No favors owed by either of us, and WE go back to how WE began. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.
If hearts were balls, I’d know exactly what it feels like to be kicked in them right now.
Attempting to delete my embarrassing AF text, I hit send.
I die a little inside when I see it’s been delivered, but when I see it’s read, and I see him replying, I feel a tinge of hope.
I close my eyes and send up a prayer. I know it’s selfish, but I truly feel like there is something between us. It’s been gradually building since the night he was a dick about me being at his place. Further proof was in the dark last night. He was rock hard for me and holding back. I’m sure that was for me, too. I know he likes me … more than likes me. And after what Gabrielle said, I’m sure it’s up to me to push it along.
I open my eyes and read the screen.
- Not. Ever. Gonna. Happen
As if deleting the entire message chain will make it go away, I do just that.
Unfortunately, I still feel it, and it freaking hurts.
I clear my throat as I look for the bathroom, or somewhere to escape, as I announce, “Nine o’clock. Same place as last week. Different parking lot.”
“Fuck yes!” Patrick cheers.
“Fuck yes.” Justice laughs.
Inside the bathroom, I look in the mirror, begging my eyes not to shed a tear, pleading with my heart to stop hurting, and praying he messages me back and tells me something different.
But tears fall, my heart hurts, and … he doesn’t.
When the bathroom door is opened, I quickly turn on the faucet and begin splashing my face.
“Give me a minute,” I say, hoping my voice sounds normal and not pathetic.
When I look up, Kiki and Brisa are standing behind me.
“You’re gonna say you’re driving the girls.” Kiki steps forward and wipes under my eyes. “Because I’m going to be by your side—”
“No way, Kiki. It’s—”
“Don’t wanna hear it.” She pulls me into a hug.
“You can’t. You and Tris time, remeb—.” My voice breaks.
“She’s not gonna rush the stage. I’m sure we’ll have our own little corner. Plus, this way, you can get White Claw wasted, and she can drive home.” Brisa hugs me, too.
“Brand will kill you and me.” I sniff.
“He’ll understand.”
I pull back. “Then tell him before we go.”
She scowls at me as she wipes the rest of my tears. “I will … on the way.”
“Justice is gonna be fine, Truth.” Brisa rubs my back.
“She knows,” Kiki says and pouts out her bottom lip. She gives me one of those looks, one that says, I see what you’re going through, and I’m here.
“Oh my God, you’re in love.” Brisa claps.
I shake my head.
“Oh, Truth.” Brisa hugs me. “Be happy. Now you know what it feels like. And trust me; you’ll get over it, just like I did with Ranger.”
Kiki covers her mouth so she doesn’t laugh, and I smile for the first time since the text.
She steps back and grabs my face. “Fuck. Them.”
I sigh and say it back, “Fuck. Them.”
Stepping out of my vehicle, Kiki’s phone rings, again.
“You’ve reached Katherine Falcon, who loves her hot, sexy, and supportive as fuck husband as much as she loves and supports him, or he gets no fucks for the imminent future. Press one if you’re done acting like my father, and press two if you’re calling to tell me to have a good night and that you love me more than anything in this world. Beep.”
“I’m not fucking around, Katherine.”
She hangs up.
“Seems to be handling it well,” Brisa jokes as we walk toward the boys.
“Oh, hell no,” Max says as soon as he sees her.
Her phone rings, and she stops, holds up her finger to Max for him to stop, and answers her phone. “Again, you’ve reached Katherine Steel.” She pauses then adds, “Falcon, who is on her last nerve, and all you fuckers”—she points toward the boys—“are to shut it down. I’m eighteen, a senior in high school who, up until ten damn phone calls ago, was sure she wasn’t gonna miss a thing, that just like Miley fucking Cyrus, I could indeed have the best of both worlds, but now she’s going on pissed off, and the entire night with my crew is going to be wasted because my mood fucking sucks. And let me tell you, if I see a wrecking ball in this place, I’m gonna ride that bitch just to show all you overprotective men-children, who think they need to take care of me and the baby growing in my belly, who I love more than any of you, that I’m still me!”
She gasps at whatever Brand says in response. “Did you seriously just threaten to call my father?” She looks at all of us. “Airplane mode. Now.” She gasps again then her bottom lip pops out. “Well, I didn’t know you were coming home early.” She makes a nasty face. “You know what you can do, Brand? You can go—”
I snatch the phone out of her hand and hold it up to my ear as he goes on and on about what he’s not going to do to her tonight, and it involves chocolate and strawberries.
“Brand … Brand … BRAND!”
“Who the hell is this?”
“It’s Truth.”
“Hey, Truth, how are you?” he asks, trying to sound calm.
“I’m—”
“Wanna give the phone back to my fucking wife!”
I hold it out to her.
She shakes her head. “He’s all yours.”
“Did she just say—”
“Yeah.”
“I’m an hour from home, Truth, and since you’re my favorite and I know you and I are real close, do me a favor and text me the address, will ya?”
“Um—”
“Truth, I will buy you any car you want. I’ll buy you a fucking pony, a house, a—”
“Um—”
“Truth, I’m trying to be real calm here, but she has that thing with her heart.”
“Oh, man,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he says. “Easy enough to forget when it’s not your responsibility and fucking honor to protect.”
I turn my back to them and whisper, “I’ll try, but you can’t show up here, looking all you. That would be bad, and this thing probably isn’t on the up and up, so you don’t need to be involved.”
“Okay, I get it. Just send me the address so I know where she is if she needs me.”
“Fair enough,” I whisper. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“Remember, anything you want is yours.”
“Not necessary.”