Page 64 of One Good Crash

Jaden's head swiveled in my direction. Unsure what else to do, I gave him a little wave. He didn't wave back. No surprise there. Instead, he looked to Allie and said, "Found her."

"Oh shut up," Allie said. "I'm not falling for that again."

Jaden shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you want me, I'll be in the library." And with that, he sauntered out, walking past me without so much as a hello, not that I could blame him, all things considered.

From inside the closet, Allie yelled, "As if you can read!" Under her breath, she added, "Idiot."

I wanted to say something soothing, but words utterly failed me. The room was a total mess, with drawers pulled out and clothes falling off the hangers. Plus, at this point, whatcouldI say?

Even for Allie, this was a bit much. But I knew who was to blame. It wasn't Jaden. And it wasn't Jax.

It was me.

Damn it.

Trying not to startle her, I tiptoed toward the closet until I was standing just outside its door. In the most soothing voice I could muster, I said, "Allie?"

With a little yelp, she whirled around. Her eyes widened at the sight of me. But then, a split second later, they narrowed to slits as she demanded, "Where were you?"

I bit my lip. "Um, out?"

From somewhere down the hall, Jaden yelled, "Told ya!"

Allie turned toward the sound and hollered back, "Oh, fuck off!" She looked back to me and said, "You weren't here."

"I know. I was getting…" I cleared my throat. "…uh, pancakes, actually."

She was staring now. "Pancakes? Are you freaking kidding me?"

It wasn'tjustpancakes. It was bacon, too. But I'd be stupid to mention it. And besides, I felt so awful, I could hardly speak at all.

Allie's long blond hair was tied in a messy ponytail, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was on the petite side, but today, she looked even smaller than usual in clothes that appeared to be a few sizes too big.

Confused, I looked down at her shorts. They were long, black and loose, the kind that tied with a drawstring at the waist – not that I could see the drawstring now, since she was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt that fell well past her hips.

Were those clothes even her own?

I didn't think so.

And why was she wearing a sweatshirt? It was a sunny afternoon, in Florida no less. Unlike last night, the temperature right now was definitely on the balmy side.

I didn't know what exactly was going on, but I did know who was to blame. I looked up to meet her gaze. "Gosh, Allie. I'msosorry."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "You're okay?"

"Uh, yeah," I stammered. "I called. Didn't you get my message?"

"Of course I did." She made a sound of frustration. "Why do you think I'm here?"

I cringed. "Actually, I meant thesecondmessage, the one telling you that I was alright."

She gave a confused shake of her head. "What?"

"Yeah. In fact, I lefttwosecond messages – one at the apartment, and then another on your cellphone. You didn't get either one of them?"

She made a scoffing sound. "Do Ilooklike I did?"

No.In truth, she looked like hell. Oh sure, she was still as cute as a button, but now, the button looked like it had gone through the wash cycle a million times too many.