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How did …?
“You love dark chocolate,” he kept going, “Ricky Gervais, and any movie with singing and dancing.” His voice filled the car, and my heartbeat was in my ears. “Except The Wizard of Oz, because the witch freaks you out, right? And you’ve collected almost an entire set of vintage Nancy Drew books. You had the most badges in your troop in Girl Scouts, and you had to quit swimming when you were fourteen because your mom said that your shoulders were getting too muscular and you wouldn’t look feminine. You loved swimming,” he added.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach, the air turning cold. Tate and Liam didn’t even know all that.
“I didn’t drool all over you in high school, K.C. I listened to you. I paid attention to you. What the hell do you know about me?”
And he swung the car door open, climbed out, and slammed it shut, not waiting for an answer.
I sat there, watching him walk into his house and close the door.
Then the tears spilled over, and as much as I wanted to prove him wrong, I couldn’t go after him. He didn’t know that I’d watched him, too. He didn’t know that I’d paid attention as well.
I always saw him.
“Music centers you,” I whispered to an empty car, staring at his front door. “You listened to your iPod between classes and while you sat on the bleachers before school every morning.” I smiled, letting more tears run down my cheeks and thinking back to him and his black hoodies, looking so dark. “You love popcorn. Almost every kind and flavor but especially with Tabasco sauce,” I said, remembering the times he would come into the theater where I worked. “You hold the door open for women—students, teachers, and even old ladies coming out of Baskin-Robbins. You love movies about natural disasters, but they have to have some comedy in them. Your favorite one is Armageddon.” I swallowed and thought about how little I’d ever seen Jax truly smile. “And while you love computers, it’s not your passion,” I concluded. “You love being outdoors. You love having space.” My whole face hurt, the last words barely audible. “And you deserve someone who makes you happy. I’m just not that person.”
CHAPTER 7
K.C.
“Hey, K.C.” Simon, one of the other tutors, came up to me after the sessions ended on Friday. “Doing anything fun this weekend?”
“Probably not,” I said, without looking at him as I loaded up my bag—or Tate’s bag.
“Well, we’re all going out for coffee. Wanna join us?”
I stopped what I was doing and looked up. Peering around him, I saw the other tutors gathering their materials and some waiting by the door.
Smiling softly, I apologized, “Sorry. It’s kind of hot for coffee.”
“Iced coffee, then?” he shot back, grinning playfully. “They have smoothies, too.”
I swung the bag over my head, legs tensing with the urge to walk.
Simon seemed like a nice guy. And good-looking, too. I wasn’t sure if he was feeling me out or just being friendly, but I clutched the strap over my chest, wishing he had just left me alone.
Not that he’d done anything wrong. I should spend time with people. With a potentially nice guy, too. But last night—and nearly every night this week, actually—I’d opted to ignore Shane and texts from Nik and Tate and either take long, long walks or sit on a lawn chair in the backyard and zone out listening to the iPod. Alone but not really lonely.
How was that even possible?
Throughout high school and college, I was always lonely.
At parties. Lonely.
With Liam. Lonely.
Around my family. Lonely.
Standing in the middle of a group of friends. Completely lonely.
But it was weird. Now that I was alone more than I’d ever been in my life, the doubt and the anxiety were replaced with something else.
Time to think. Time to unwind. It unnerved me, but it also felt kind of good. I started putting my feet on the coffee table, drinking from the carton, and playing music every morning when I woke up. It was as though I was starting to meet myself.
I put my head down, feeling bad as I walked around him toward the door, but I just wasn’t up for being social. “Thanks. Maybe another time, Simon.”
As I walked into the hallway, turning right to head out the front doors, my phone rang from inside the bag.
Picking it out, I looked, only hoping to avoid calls from my mother, but I didn’t recognize this number.
I held it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, Trouble,” a deep voice greeted me with humor.
Jared.
“Great,” I mumbled. “You’re teasing me, too? I seem to remember you getting arrested once.”
I heard his quiet laugh on the other end. Jax’s brother—also Tate’s boyfriend—and I were friendly but not particularly close. I hadn’t seen him in forever.
“It’s Tate’s fault, you know?” I explained. “She’s a bad influence.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Tate was a ballbuster, and the whole town knew it. While she and Jared used to be childhood friends, he’d begun bullying her in high school for reasons I still didn’t know. When Tate started fighting back, she literally started fighting back. There was a broken nose, a knee in the balls, some slaps, and a whole lot of damage to Jared’s car.
Tate was awesome.
“So, how does everyone know?” I asked, remembering the principal’s now useless advice of keeping my trouble a secret. “Was there a press release or something?”