Page 12 of Necessary Time

I started to interrupt her, to tell her I didn’t really have a lot of friends. Not besides Henry, but life had caused us to grow apart and we barely saw each other anymore. So no, I didn’t have birthday plans with any of my friends, but she wasn’t done. Amanda grabbed my hand, threading our fingers together in a way that felt uncomfortably intimate, then she tugged me to my feet. The movement caught everyone’s attention, and both of our moms turned from their places at the table.

“We’re getting out of here,” she said, giving them a wave with her free hand. “Thanks for the introduction, Mrs. Stewart.”

My mom smiled broadly, sincerely, and something that felt like failure churned hard in my stomach.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I said to my parents. “Good seeing you again, Mrs. Flagg.”

Amanda all but dragged me out of the house, shaking her hand out of mine as soon as the front door closed behind us. I hadn’t realized how tight I’d held onto her until her fingers were free, and I flexed my hand, shoving it into my pocket.

“Thanks,” I told her, not sure what else to say and feeling far more like a teenager than the adult I was.

“You did me a favor by playing along.” Amanda hopped off the porch, taking her long blonde hair and twisting it into a bun at the top of her head. She fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked her car, turning back to me. “Have a happy birthday, Colin.”

I almost said you too. “Thanks.”

I waited until she’d gotten into her car before going to mine. I supposed I could go home, but there wasn’t anything there for me that wasn’t here. When had it gotten so bad for me? When had I let my life get so lonely and isolated? Before I could talk myself out of it, I called Wesley.

It rang, and rang, and rang, and I was certain it was going to go to voicemail but there was no way I was going to leave him a message. At the last minute, the call connected.

“Hello?” Wes sounded like he’d never answered a phone call in his life.

“Wesley?”

“Colin,” he said.

Well, there was that. He had received my initial text message.

“Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” I replied.

Wes made a grunting noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t know. Why else would you call me instead of text?”

I laughed. “Do kids your age not talk on the phone anymore?”

“I’m not a kid,” he snapped.

“Right.” I traced the front of my teeth with my tongue, feeling completely uncomfortable and out of place. I should have never called him. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s whatever. What’s up?”

“It’s not fine,” I said. “I spoke out of turn.”

“Yeah.” His voice went quiet. “It’s fine. Nothing Hendrix doesn’t do every time I see him.”

“That’s not right either,” I assured him.

The irony of being almost twenty years older than him and having my parents meddle in my life the same way Hendrix did to Wes was an uncomfortable parallel.

“Just life,” he mumbled. “What’s up, Colin?”

I scrubbed a hand down my face, the whole reason I’d called him completely lost on me in that moment. What had I been thinking?

“I was just leaving my parents’ house. Figured I’d see if you wanted to grab dinner later. Not a date, of course. Just to show you some spots in town.”

“Isn’t it your birthday?” Wes asked.

“Yeah.”