Page 101
Story: After We Collided (After 2)
“What? What does Noah have to do with this? And I clearly do not have a type,” she growls and gestures at me. “Though maybe I should.”
“Fuck this,” I spit and climb into the car, turning it on and leaving her standing out in the cold. When I get to the stop sign, I can’t help but hit the steering wheel over and over.
If she doesn’t call me within an hour, I’ll know she went home with someone else.
Chapter sixty-two
TESSA
Ten minutes later I’m still standing on the sidewalk. My legs and arms are numb, and I’m shivering. Hardin will come back any minute, there’s no way he’ll actually leave me here, alone. Drunk and alone.
When I go to call him, I remember that he has my phone. Great.
What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking, that’s the problem. We were doing so good, and I didn’t even try to give him the benefit of the doubt. Instead I kissed someone. The memory makes me want to vomit on the sidewalk.
Why hasn’t he come back yet?
I need to go inside. It’s way too cold out here, and I want another drink. My buzz is starting to wear off, and I’m not ready to face reality. When I get inside, I head directly for the kitchen and pour myself a drink. This is why I shouldn’t drink—I have no common sense when I’m drunk. I immediately assumed the worst of him and made a huge mistake.
“Tessa?” Zed’s voice says from behind me.
“Hey.” I groan and lift my head up from the cool counter and turn to face him.
“Um . . . what are you doing?” He half laughs. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah . . . I’m okay,” I lie.
“Where’s Hardin?”
“He left.”
“He left? Without you?”
“Yep.” I take a drink from my cup.
“Why?”
“Because I’m an idiot,” I answer honestly.
“I doubt that.” He smiles.
“No, really, I am this time.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really.” I sigh.
“Okay . . . well, I’ll leave you alone,” he says and begins to walk away. But then he turns back around. “It’s not supposed to be so complicated, you know?”
“What?” I ask him and follow him to sit at a card table in the kitchen.
“Love, relationships, all that. It doesn’t have to be so hard.”
“Doesn’t it, though? Isn’t it always like this?” I have no reference except Noah. We never fought like this, but I don’t know that I loved him. Not like I do Hardin. I dump my drink down the sink and grab a glass to fill with water.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen anyone fight the way you two do.”
“It’s because we’re so different, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I guess you are.” He smiles.
By the time I check the clock again, it’s been an hour since Hardin left me here. Maybe he isn’t coming back after all. “Would you forgive someone if they kissed someone else?” I finally ask Zed.
“I guess it depends on the details.”
“What if they did it right in front of you?”
“Hell, no. That’s unforgivable,” he says with a disgusted expression.
“Oh.”
Zed leans toward me sympathetically. “He did that?”
“No.” I look up at him with wide eyes. “I did.”
“You did?” Zed is clearly surprised.
“Yeah . . . I told you I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah, I hate to say it, but you are.”
“Yep,” I agree.
“How are you getting home?” he asks.
“Well, I keep thinking he’s going to come back to get me, but he’s obviously not going to.” I bite my lip.
“I can take you if you want,” he says. But when I look around uncertainly, he adds, “Or Steph and Tristan are probably upstairs . . . you know.”
I look at him quickly. “Actually, can you take me now?” I don’t want to dig myself in any deeper, but I’m beginning to sober up, thank goodness, and I just want to be home to try to talk to Hardin.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Zed says, and I down the last of my water before following him outside to his car.
WHEN WE’RE ONLY about ten minutes away from the apartment, I begin panicking over Hardin’s reaction to Zed driving me home. I keep trying to force myself to sober up, but it doesn’t work that way. I’m a lot less intoxicated than I was an hour ago, but I’m still drunk.
“Can I use your phone to try to call him?” I ask Zed.
He removes one hand from the steering wheel to dig into his pocket for his phone. “Here . . . shit, it’s dead,” he says, pressing the button on the top and revealing an empty-battery symbol.
“Thanks anyway.” I shrug. Calling Hardin from Zed’s phone probably isn’t the best idea I’ve had. Not as bad as my idea to kiss a random guy in front of Hardin, but still not a good one.
“What if he isn’t here?” I say.
Zed looks at me quizzically. “You have a key, don’t you?”
“I didn’t bring mine . . . I didn’t think I would need it.”
“Oh . . . well . . . I’m sure he’ll be here,” Zed says, but he sounds nervous.
Hardin would literally murder him if he found me at Zed’s place. When we do arrive at the apartment, Zed parks and I scan the parking lot for Hardin’s car. And it’s parked in his usual spot, thank God. I have no idea what I would have done if he weren’t here.
“Fuck this,” I spit and climb into the car, turning it on and leaving her standing out in the cold. When I get to the stop sign, I can’t help but hit the steering wheel over and over.
If she doesn’t call me within an hour, I’ll know she went home with someone else.
Chapter sixty-two
TESSA
Ten minutes later I’m still standing on the sidewalk. My legs and arms are numb, and I’m shivering. Hardin will come back any minute, there’s no way he’ll actually leave me here, alone. Drunk and alone.
When I go to call him, I remember that he has my phone. Great.
What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking, that’s the problem. We were doing so good, and I didn’t even try to give him the benefit of the doubt. Instead I kissed someone. The memory makes me want to vomit on the sidewalk.
Why hasn’t he come back yet?
I need to go inside. It’s way too cold out here, and I want another drink. My buzz is starting to wear off, and I’m not ready to face reality. When I get inside, I head directly for the kitchen and pour myself a drink. This is why I shouldn’t drink—I have no common sense when I’m drunk. I immediately assumed the worst of him and made a huge mistake.
“Tessa?” Zed’s voice says from behind me.
“Hey.” I groan and lift my head up from the cool counter and turn to face him.
“Um . . . what are you doing?” He half laughs. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah . . . I’m okay,” I lie.
“Where’s Hardin?”
“He left.”
“He left? Without you?”
“Yep.” I take a drink from my cup.
“Why?”
“Because I’m an idiot,” I answer honestly.
“I doubt that.” He smiles.
“No, really, I am this time.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really.” I sigh.
“Okay . . . well, I’ll leave you alone,” he says and begins to walk away. But then he turns back around. “It’s not supposed to be so complicated, you know?”
“What?” I ask him and follow him to sit at a card table in the kitchen.
“Love, relationships, all that. It doesn’t have to be so hard.”
“Doesn’t it, though? Isn’t it always like this?” I have no reference except Noah. We never fought like this, but I don’t know that I loved him. Not like I do Hardin. I dump my drink down the sink and grab a glass to fill with water.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen anyone fight the way you two do.”
“It’s because we’re so different, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I guess you are.” He smiles.
By the time I check the clock again, it’s been an hour since Hardin left me here. Maybe he isn’t coming back after all. “Would you forgive someone if they kissed someone else?” I finally ask Zed.
“I guess it depends on the details.”
“What if they did it right in front of you?”
“Hell, no. That’s unforgivable,” he says with a disgusted expression.
“Oh.”
Zed leans toward me sympathetically. “He did that?”
“No.” I look up at him with wide eyes. “I did.”
“You did?” Zed is clearly surprised.
“Yeah . . . I told you I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah, I hate to say it, but you are.”
“Yep,” I agree.
“How are you getting home?” he asks.
“Well, I keep thinking he’s going to come back to get me, but he’s obviously not going to.” I bite my lip.
“I can take you if you want,” he says. But when I look around uncertainly, he adds, “Or Steph and Tristan are probably upstairs . . . you know.”
I look at him quickly. “Actually, can you take me now?” I don’t want to dig myself in any deeper, but I’m beginning to sober up, thank goodness, and I just want to be home to try to talk to Hardin.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Zed says, and I down the last of my water before following him outside to his car.
WHEN WE’RE ONLY about ten minutes away from the apartment, I begin panicking over Hardin’s reaction to Zed driving me home. I keep trying to force myself to sober up, but it doesn’t work that way. I’m a lot less intoxicated than I was an hour ago, but I’m still drunk.
“Can I use your phone to try to call him?” I ask Zed.
He removes one hand from the steering wheel to dig into his pocket for his phone. “Here . . . shit, it’s dead,” he says, pressing the button on the top and revealing an empty-battery symbol.
“Thanks anyway.” I shrug. Calling Hardin from Zed’s phone probably isn’t the best idea I’ve had. Not as bad as my idea to kiss a random guy in front of Hardin, but still not a good one.
“What if he isn’t here?” I say.
Zed looks at me quizzically. “You have a key, don’t you?”
“I didn’t bring mine . . . I didn’t think I would need it.”
“Oh . . . well . . . I’m sure he’ll be here,” Zed says, but he sounds nervous.
Hardin would literally murder him if he found me at Zed’s place. When we do arrive at the apartment, Zed parks and I scan the parking lot for Hardin’s car. And it’s parked in his usual spot, thank God. I have no idea what I would have done if he weren’t here.
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