Page 89 of Try Me
“The pri—oh. Ummm—”Fuck.“I don’t know. No one does yet.” Okay, I did feel shitty about that lie.
“He’s been busting his ass. Don’t give me that look. I’m thirteen, not five. You should’ve seen him when he found out he got the internship. It was like he’d won the lottery. He’s really smart.” She delivered the last line with a loving finality that twisted around my heart. “I hope he wins it.”
“Me too, honestly.”
She treated me to another of those flash-fire smiles, this one a little kinder, then sucked on her straw and fiddled with the radio dial again. “Actually, maybe you wouldn’t be the worst he’s dated,” she announced a few minutes later, like she was bestowing a supremely magnanimous compliment on me.
“Thanks? I mean, if we were dating. Which we aren’t.”
Fuego was hopping, and the hostess ushered us down a long hallway to a small locker room where employees stored their stuff. Chet hustled in a few minutes later, tucking a pad in the front of his apron. A couple of dark strands had come loose from his slicked-back coif, and, fuck me, somehow he was getting even more catastrophic to look at.
“How was the movie?” he asked Carrie as she passed him his shake.
“Great until this tool showed up and embarrassed me. Hehonkedthe horn.”
“Oh man, that’s verboten.” Chet fixed me with a mock stern expression. “You’re supposed to just park and wait and Carrie’ll come to the car.”
“Yeah, well, somebody forgot to give me that very pertinent instruction, so I had to resort to threats.”
Carrie shot a treacherous glare at Chet. He laughed and ruffled her hair. “You’ll survive. I’ll be off in about an hour. We’ll grab something from the kitchen and get you home. Meantime, there’s an iPad in the office next door with your name on it. Go.” He shooed her toward the door, then called her back. “Tell Mark thanks for the ride.”
“Thanks for the ride, dude. Hope your aunt gives you something less heinous for Christmas next year.”
“Same.” I waited until the door closed behind her, then sank against the wall. “So that was an experience. Teenage girls are fucking vicious. I’m pretty sure my balls receded all the way into my gut out of legit fear they’d be sheared off.”
Chet raked his teeth over his lower lip, biting back a laugh. “So what is this heinous Christmas gift she was talking about?”
I pointed to the tie.
“Ahhh. Well, in that case, I wish you the same. It’s a true eyesore.” He flashed me a sharp smile. “Anyway, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime and, uh, while we’re on the gratitude train, thanks for this morning. You were right. I would’ve regretted not showing up.”
“Likewise. Anytime.” Chet pressed his hands against the door and leaned back against them. A stilted silence descended, and I wasn’t sure who was supposed to break it. Maybe no one. Maybe I was supposed to just walk out. We’d already said our thanks. What else was there to do besides give in to the hundred million tiny provocations teeming inside me? But that would constitute a major setback.
I stared at the neatly lined pens peeking out of Chet’s apron pocket, the rubber soled clogs he was wearing, and those wayward strands of hair falling over his cheek.
Everything about him made me physically ache.
I wished I could give him back his family’s house and his Charger. Give him the walk-on spot on the U’s basketball team he’d been forced to pass up. But more than that, I wished I could go back in time, somehow stop his dad from saying yes when he should’ve said no. Stop him fromtakingwhen he should’ve been elated at everything he’d beengiven.
Chet thumbed over his shoulder. “I need to get back to my tables.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m going. See you Monday, I guess?” Our internship would be winding down soon, the relief I’d been waiting for on the horizon.
But as I stood there, my heart flip-flopped again, indecisive. Something about this moment rang as too final.
“Yeah.” Chet swung the door wide and gestured that I should go first.
I started to walk through and then paused, my pulse thundering in my ears, the skin on my neck burning hot. “We made the smart decision, right?”
Chet was quiet for a few beats before he nodded resolutely. “Definitely the smart decision. There’s too much at stake. For both of us.”
But it was the way his expression had gone dull, eyes closed off and distant like they’d been a couple of months ago, that hurt more than the words.
I berated myself for my stupid masochistic tendencies all the way to the car. We’d already made the sensible decision, and the fact that I’d just stood there seconds ago wishing I could give Chet everything should’ve been a great reminder not to push for something that would possibly take even more away from him.
But damn, I’d failed to anticipate how much it’d truly suck.