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"Alright," he grunts. "I'm sorry I suggested you would try to get pregnant to sink your claws into Cash, and the Allred fortune."
"You didn't say the fortune part," I say, shaking my head.
"No," he rubs a hand over his face. "Not this time. I may have said stuff to Fanny in the past."
"You're unbelievable!"
"I was jealous Cash wanted to play with your boobs instead of hang out with me," he admits. "Big deal. I was just trying to get more time with him."
"I'm sorry my boobs were more important than jumping out of trees and possibly breaking limbs," I lament and roll my eyes dramatically. "It's not like you didn't benefit from Cash's status."
"I didn't."
"Don't lie."
"I would never lie."
"Except to Fanny," I remind him.
"It was an exaggeration of the truth."
"I never cared about Cash's money. I only cared about Cash."
"Yeah," Wilder furrows his brow. "So, did I."
"We shouldn't have fought so much."
"No," Wilder inhales sharply. I think this might be the first time we've agreed on something. "I guess it was all for nothing. In the end, he left us. And instead of saying goodbye, he broke up with you and ignored me."
"I'm sorry he didn't say goodbye to you," I gnaw on the inside of my cheek as I put the car in drive. "You've been his best friend for most of his life. He should have."
Wilder points to the road. "Doesn't matter now. We should get going or we'll be late."
I drive away from the house, frustrated. I know where I stand with Cash. He made it clear he wants to spend the summer apart. Wilder, though, didn't get so much as a see ya around text. He's stuck in limbo.
I always thought Cash was a good friend, but I'm starting to wonder if it was Wilder who did all the heavy lifting in their friendship. He never would have left Cash for the summer without saying goodbye. He would have never left Cash period.
As I look over at Wilder, I take a deep breath.
"Don't pity me, Blondie," he warns. "I'll be fine."
I know he will be. His dad left when he was 12, which is why he and his mom moved into his grandparents' house six years ago. Wilder isn't like Cash. Wilder will survive whatever happens because he's already been through hell. He's never relayed that to me, but I picked up on enough comments in the past. Wilder's dad leaving hurt him, but he survived. Just like I'll survive the summer without Cash. I've survived living in Isla's shadow and Mom's obliviousness. I've survived Fanny Allred dragging my name through the mud. I've even survived Wilder's smear campaigns.
I'll survive this.
I will.
I think I will.
Oh no.
My eyes fill with tears as I try blinking them away. I cannot have a breakdown in front of Wilder. He'll never let me live it down.
But then, he motions to the empty church parking lot on our right and I turn into it.
I put the car in park and take deep breaths. I can cry when I get home. I can cry when I'm all alone. I can't cry now.
"Just let it out," Wilder sighs. "It's better to get it over and done with."
