Page 23 of Collide

“I’m teasing,” I whisper, not wishing to argue with him and get into a discussion about creative genius. I’ve no doubt of Gage’s ability or Collision’s as a whole. They were great with Cash, so like most of their fans, I wonder what will happen next for them.

“Anyway,” Petty interrupts, dragging out the word. “Seriously, where have you been? I mean, I saw you here and there last summer, but what gives?”

“I don’t live in Los Angeles.”

“You don’t?” Petty says, surprised.

“No. I go to school in Seattle.”

My forehead furrows, and I question Petty with a glare, not like I expect any of them to know details about me. Does he not know I hooked up with Cash? Was he so involved in his own sexcapades he didn’t notice us leave a party or two together last summer? Or did Cash never mention me to the band? My chest pinches.

“I’ve been around, though. After the time I saw you when I was looking for Gage—”

“What?” Gage snaps, startling me and making Petty flinch.

“Chill,” Petty slurs, the word bumpy like the waves under us.

“You chill,” Gage directs at Petty, and then turns to me. “What’s this about looking for me?”

“I was looking for you after a concert at Howl at the Moon. It was last June.” My mother had been dead for a year, and Tommy wanted to distract me with their performance. Petty was the one to tell me where to find Gage. I was headed backstage when Cash intercepted me.

“Why?” Gage’s voice is rough, and he swallows back the sting in it. I don’t wish to explain myself in front of the other two, so I improvise.

“I had something I wanted to give you, relating to our first meeting.” I level my stare at Gage. Jared snorts into his cup, taking a sip of the pink rum concoction.

“First meeting,” he mutters, and my head shoots toward him. He smiles into his drink while his eyes meet mine over the plastic rim. Oh, he knows something even if Petty doesn’t.

“Anyway,” I drag out like Petty did. “Petty was the one who told me you were backstage, but I ran into Cash on my way to you.” The words ring funny in my head. Not funny, ha-ha, but almost bittersweet. Gage glares at me. I don’t need to see his eyes behind the lenses to know those dark orbs drill into me. I just don’t know why.

“Fucker,” he mutters, bringing his plastic cup to his lips and downing the rest of his pink drink. A waitress nears us, and Gage orders an entire bottle of rum.

“We don’t sell it by the bottle, but I can bring you a shot.”

“Make it a double,” he barks.

What the hell is wrong with him?

I decide to ignore him and his foul mood. Turning to Petty, I explain how school keeps me busy and how I’ve thrown myself into my studies, which is true. I just don’t mention how exhausted I am, and with a baby coming, I haven’t been open to partying. Petty begins telling me how his parents wanted him to be a farmer.

“I got off that farm so fast, the dust hadn’t settled behind me when I hit the highway.”

I envision the scene, and giggle until I see Petty’s gaze wander off to the ocean. He sips at his drink, swallowing back something more than what he’s sharing. We’re a sad little party, so I’m thankful when we reach the outer edges of the bay where we’ll swim. I wear a bikini again with a sun shirt over me. It does nothing to disguise my belly, but I’m hopeful the guys are too excited about the sea turtles to notice.

Gage and Petty enter the water and swim ahead of us. They each have a GoPro camera with a wrist strap. Rules require any devices be secured to a person so as not to be dropped and lost in the ocean. Jared stays behind and assists me in the water. I’m not a great swimmer although I can hold my own. It’s been a while, though, since I’ve been in deeper water than a shallow beach and panic sets in.

Jared holds my hand, guiding me to sit on the launching deck and then drops himself into the water. He waits for me as I climb down the metal ladder provided. As we tread near one another for a moment, adjusting to the water, Jared smiles weakly at me.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” I answer, already knowing the question he’ll ask. Jared isn’t stupid. He’s studious. He could have been a lawyer or a professor, and if I remember correctly, there was drama surrounding his decision. He’s always reading and wanting to discuss issues.

He tips his head, water sloshing up over his shoulders. “Are you pregnant?”

“Yes,” I repeat. My arms swish back and forth under the water. He bites the corner of his lip.

“I hate to ask…” He hesitates.

“It’s not Gage’s.” I don’t know why I offer that first, as if it could be his, as if we’ve been together, which we haven’t, for years.