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Tyler hopped off the Vespa and walked to the edge of the pool, leaning over to shake Kris’s hand. Only, they started joking around with each other, making comments about muscles and arm wrestling and shit that I wasn’t paying attention to at the time, but I wish I was. Maybe then I could have stopped it. I could have said something or done something to prevent Kris from grasping onto Tyler’s hand and giving him a playful yank, hoping to toss him fully-clothed into the pool.
If I had just stopped them, Tyler wouldn’t have freaked out, flailing his arms to try and save his cell phone from drowning in chlorinated water. He wouldn’t have slipped on the slippery painted concrete. He wouldn’t have fallen.
His head wouldn’t have cracked against the edge of the pool with the worst possible skull-cracking smack. If I had only said something, maybe he wouldn’t be dead.
And I would have never discovered Kris Payne’s true character.
Chapter 6
The Earth stands still until Kris swallows. He can’t peel his eyes away from me but I know he wants to. Acid creeps up the back of my throat, threatening to empty the coffee and deep-fried donut from my stomach at any second. I feel cemented to the shiny wooden floor despite how the only desire in my body is to run far away and never return.
Ten years have passed since the day Kris saw me get into an ambulance with my brother. Since he decided he wanted nothing more to do with me and walked out of my life, never to speak to me again. He wasn’t even at Tyler’s funeral. And now he’s standing in the same room I am, filling the role of my new boss and ex-boyfriend from high school. The other role he plays is much worse: traitor.
Susan grabs my arm as she whispers something that I don’t bother listening to. Dwayne and Judy circle Kris and envelop him in handshakes and a hearty pat on the back. He speaks back to them, nodding to the binder in his hands and even breaking into a smile when Judy says something that makes her squeeze his elbow as she throws her head back in that bursting with joy laugh of hers. If he felt anything in the moment our eyes met, he doesn’t show it now. He is a businessman now. A boss. The owner of Carson’s Gym. I don’t know what else he is, but I don’t care to stick around and find out.
My throat burns and my pulse freezes, turning my body into a clunky, broken machine. Somehow I manage to move one foot and then the other, until I’m pushing myself out of the dance room, then out of the gym. No one follows me. I doubt anyone even notices.
A rush of warm summer air fills my lungs as I powerwalk through the parking lot. My hand grabs the door handle of the Mustang and I’m in the driver’s seat a few seconds later, forehead resting on the steering wheel. Here, in my car, it’s almost as if what just happened didn’t actually happen. I can almost breathe easily. The comforting familiarity of being in my own space allows me to relax.
Wait. Kris Payne just became my boss.
I close my eyes and throw my head back, facing the heavens. “Why is this happening?” I ask to no one. Or, to God. I’m not sure if he is listening. I’m not sure if I’m listening.
I would think that my brain doesn’t work at all anymore, if there wasn’t one incredibly coherent thought racing through my mind.
Somehow he got even hotter since high school.
Nathan uses a plastic fork to separate all of his popcorn shrimp from the French fries in his dinner basket from Shrimp-n-Stuff. Then he squeezes ketchup into the great divide, filling the middle of the basket with a river of red dipping sauce. I poke at the only food I ordered, a side of hushpuppies, and suck down the last drops of my pink lemonade. I’ve just finished telling Nathan the news that the worst person in the world is now my boss.
He stabs a popcorn shrimp and drowns it in ketchup. “So, you’re saying he never talked to you again after…?”
“After Tyler died.” I finish the sentence for him. It’s been long enough for me to be able to say those words. I don’t know why everyone else has to dance around them.
“I can’t believe he did that,” Nathan says, stabbing another shrimp. “I mean, I thought I heard something about ya’ll dating in high school before we met. I know it would be hard for him to talk to you after what he did, but it seems like it’d be even harder to ignore you. I mean, that’s awkward as fuck.”
I nod. “Awkward as fuck.”
He grabs my hand from across the table. “So what are you gonna do?”
I swallow, pulling away from the pink lemonade and the straw I’ve unintentionally chewed into a flat mess. His question is logical but I have no answer. I haven’t thought about what I’m going to do. I look up at him but he’s attempting to stab a fry with his fork. “I don’t know,” I say after a long pause. “I guess I’m going to quit.”
He looks up, three fries stabbed perfectly horizontally on his fork. “Where will you find another job with a useless physical fitness degree?”
“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence in my chosen profession.” I inch back in my chair, subconsciously wanting to get further away from him. He always makes condescending remarks like that about my pitiful two-year associate’s degree. I guess when his rich parents paid for him to get a Master’s in business, they tossed in some more cash for the Degree in Judging Other People’s Careers. I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for an apology that doesn’t come.
“There’s nothing wrong with your profession, Delaney.” Nathan reaches across the table and steals one of my untouched hushpuppies. “You just chose to study a subject that has no practical applications in this town of twelve thousand people. There’s only one gym in the area, and you can’t work there anymore.”
I stare at the empty spot where that hushpuppy had been. Any other day, I would have devoured the fried bits of deliciousness in just a few minutes. Now my stomach flips with uneasiness and newfound anger and resentment over Nathan’s comments. He doesn’t notice my mood change because he keeps talking. “Besides finding some gig in retail, there’s really nothing you can do. You should just move in with me.”
“I’m not a worthless idiot,” I begin, uncrossing my arms and pressing my hands to the table. “I am qualified for a ton of jobs so you don’t have to talk to me like I’m some kind of high school dropo—” I stop mid-sentence as what he just said runs through my mind. “Did you just tell me to move in with you?”
He nods as if it’s not a life-changing big ass deal to move in with someone. “Move in with me. That way you won’t have rent payments and it won’t matter that you aren’t working. And you can get away from that asshole.”
“Nathan, that’s…” I close my mouth and stare at him, not saying the rest of my thought because I’m not sure what I’m thinking. That’s sweet just doesn’t seem like something I would say. “I need to think about it,” comes out of my mouth instead.
He nods and takes another bite of a ketchup-soaked fry. “Take your time.” He squeezes my hand and I smile as I watch his massive hand engulf mine. The reality of what he’s suggesting—that we actually take a leap and move in together—momentarily takes my mind off the Kris Payne situation. It is super romantic of Nathan to offer to share his house with me…even if I’m not entirely happy being in this relationship.
After dinner, Nathan and I hit up a used bookstore and browse for specific The Walking Dead comics that are missing from his collection. A palpable awkwardness sits between us as we peruse the musty isles of books and CDs. The future of our relationship is hanging somewhere in Living Together Limbo, and all that power rests with me.
