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Screams came from a group of people nearby. A guy dressed as Yoda was spraying beer from the keg tap at the crowd. Kaidan watched them while I took a step closer. Inches separated us now.
“I think about our trip all the time,” I whispered. He continued to watch the group as they wrestled Yoda to the ground. “Do you ever think about it?”
His eyes roamed over the crowd as he responded. “Sometimes.”
He was pushing me away. My alarm rose to the next level. I grabbed two handfuls of fur from his gorilla chest, wanting him to look at me, but he wouldn’t.
I swallowed my emotions, not letting go. “Why did you invite Jay to this party?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
I gripped the fur tighter, pulling down.
“I can’t keep living like this, Kai. I need to know how you feel. I need to know one way or another so I can have some sort of closure.”
“I thought you’d be over it by now.” When he finally cast his severe gaze down at me, I wanted to pound his chest.
“It doesn’t work like that,” I told him.
He held my eyes and said nothing more. So that was how it was going to be. Fine. I let go of his costume and stepped back. It was dark outside now. Two fire pits were lit, and the flames mocked me with their trippy dance. Smoke drifted our way, thick and choking.
“Don’t invite Jay to any more parties, Kaidan. If there’s even the slightest chance you’ll be there somewhere, I’m not going. It hurts too much to see you.”
“So why did you come?” he asked with little interest.
Why, indeed? The weight of the wig and hat became too much. I pulled them off and let them drop, matted hair falling across my shoulders. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
His mouth opened as he registered my chopped, lighter hair, but he quickly shut it.
“You should go then,” he said, voice low.
Stupefied, I nodded in agreement. It was over. He wouldn’t open up to me, tonight or ever. It hurt to see his stubborn, hard expression of indifference. I couldn’t bring myself to say good-bye as I turned away, going in no particular direction. Don’t turn back around, I ordered myself.
I had no clue which way my friends had gone.
“Wait,” Kaidan called from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, but kept walking. Then I felt his hand around my wrist, spinning me in a half circle and pulling me to his chest. His face was so close. He reached down and cupped my face with one woolly hand, and wiped the top corner of my lip hard with his thumb. I flinched back.
“What are you doing?”
“I...” He appeared to have no idea himself. “I wanted to see your freckle.”
A vulnerable tenderness flashed across his face, more painful to see than the coldness. It took every ounce of strength I had not to beg for one last kiss. As fast as his expression had softened, it was back to stone again.
“What do you want from me, Kai?”
“For starters?” His voice lowered to sexy, dangerous depths. “I want to introduce myself to every freckle on your body.”
A powerful shiver ripped through me.
“So, just something physical, then?” I clarified. “That’s all you want?”
“Tell me you hate me,” he demanded. I felt the air of his words against my face.
“But I don’t hate you. I couldn’t.”
“You could,” he assured me, pulling me tighter. “And you should.”
“I’m letting you go.” My voice shook. “But only because I have to. I need to move on with my life, but I’ll never hate you.”
“The one who got away,” Kaidan murmured.
“Nobody got away,” I corrected him. “And so help me, if you start comparing us to an unfinished game that went into overtime—”
He released me and I stumbled back a step. I had to get away before I started clinging and begging him to admit his feelings, whatever they might have been. It was necessary to rip off this Band-Aid, and fast. So, as I’d done at the airport, I walked away from him, dragging my heart behind me. I didn’t look back. Game over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
HOLIDAY CHEERLESSNESS
I’d seen people with depression. I’d been bowled over by the hopelessness that sank the air around them. Murky storm clouds as heavy as sandbags.
I carried around a gloomy cloud of my own after Halloween. It was far worse than when I’d returned from California. Each day I tried to rein it in, reminding myself there was always hope. Hope for the earth, hope for humanity. Just not hope for Kaidan and me.
I dealt with the pain by shutting down. The more time asleep, the better. I missed school a few times, just to lie in bed. Failed a major test. Lost weight. But I knew time would heal the ache, and everything would be okay. I could move on. I would come back to life. Eventually. But not yet.
Patti made my favorite things on Thanksgiving: sweet potatoes with marshmallows, corn pudding, key lime pie. I knew the spectacular spread was meant to lure me out of my hole. It was just the two of us. On past Thanksgiving mornings we’d worked the food bank, and then celebrated dinner with Patti’s church friends, but we couldn’t be caught doing those things now.
Patti chattered away about nothing, placing a heaping plate in front of me. She tried to fake it, but she wasn’t happy these days either. I watched her cut a slice of turkey and take a bite.
“Anna, please eat.”
“I’m not very hungry.”