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I wonder if Daniella needs to cope, and that’s why she led me out here. Maybe there’s something she’s using me to forget.
Maybe she’s like Claire.
My mind pictures Claire acting like Daniella—throwing herself at some piece of shit Floridian. Her fingers knotted in his shirt as he feels every part of her through the thin material of that sundress.
As soon as the image comes to mind, I’m turned off even more. I gently put a hand up, creating space between us.
“I can’t do this.”
She pulls back, her brows furrowed in confusion. I’m sure she rarely gets turned down—if ever. “Why? Do you have a girlfriend or something?” I open my mouth to answer, but she cuts me off. “Because it’s okay if you do. I have a boyfriend, but he lives in another city, so it doesn’t count.”
For fuck’s sake.
Daniella is definitely not like Claire.
26
Claire
I’m frozen in place, his name taunting me in huge letters on the screen as the answer bar dances below it.
It’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling. On the train, I had such a sense of resolve...but that was before he called. Anxiety fills the pit of my stomach, but there’s a smaller, much quieter part of me that’s a little bit glad he’s calling.
Not in a, I’m so glad you called, I’ve been wanting to talk to you sort of way, but maybe in a, I’m glad you’re thinking about me way. Garret should be thinking about me—he should feel some sort of remorse for what he did.
The phone goes dark again, and my lungs remember how to breathe. My shoulders drop as my body releases some of its tension, but I still can’t take my eyes off my phone.
It stays dark.
My breathing gets easier, and I wipe my now sweating palms on my oversized t-shirt. Reaching for my phone, I look down at it in still trembling hands to see the 2 Missed Calls from Garret notification.
I wonder what he wanted.
I wonder what he’s doing right now.
I wonder why he would call me so late.
There’s no time to wonder more because his name pops up for the third time, and it takes more effort not to drop my phone than I’m proud to admit. Squeezing it tightly in my still damp hand, I hold my breath as my thumb swipes across the bottom of the screen.
27
Aiden
Daniella stares at me expectantly, and I finally remember I’m supposed to answer her.
“Uh, no. I don’t have a girlfriend.” She hasn’t given me enough space to get away from her, so I’m still just standing awkwardly up against the wall. Backed into a fucking corner.
Apparently, this was the wrong answer to give. She pops a hand on her hip and looks me up and down. “Are you gay?”
For a moment, I consider saying yes for the sake of getting her away from me, but not before my lips twitch. It takes a lot of confidence to assume the only reason a guy doesn’t want to be with you, is that he’d rather be with another guy. With a light laugh, I shake my head. “No.”
Her eyes narrow like she’s trying to decide if I’m lying. I have a feeling that regardless of how this conversation goes, she’ll go back to her friends and tell them I’m in the closet. “So, what is it then?”
The way she sways as she asks tells me she’s drunk, and I’m way too sober for this shit. I hate this part. The part where I have to be an asshole because I’m too honest for my own good. “I’m just not interested.”
Her eyes widen, and I know I’ve insulted her. “Seriously?”
With tight lips, I give an uncomfortable nod of my head.
