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After a minute of taking that in, Hoyt frowns at me. “Hey, are you not havin’ fun with me here? Isn’t this great, spending time at my place, kickin’ back, no responsibilities, no boyfriend drama, no family fights or whatever?” He shakes me. “C’mon. I haven’t even tried to give you a wedgie or nothin’.”
I bite my lip, mulling it over. “Well, to be fair, he hasn’t texted me, either,” I reason with a sigh.
“Right? If he really loved you, he’d be the one to text you and try to work it out. He holds grudges. I can tell that about him. He’s got a bad chip on his shoulder. Hey, got a question for ya.” He gives me a quizzical look. “Do you work at all this weekend?”
“Just tomorrow night. Gets busy with Black Friday shoppers. Mrs. Tucker insisted I take the rest of the weekend off for family time. How ironic. Why?”
“Alright. I’ll take you to work Friday, no prob. But if you’re open Saturday, wanna come hang with me at G-Man’s? His parents are out of town again. We can really kick back over there.”
A knot ties itself in my stomach. I wonder what his definition of “really kick back” means. Also: “Are your … other friends … gonna be there, too?”
Hoyt shrugs. “So what if they are? They won’t do nothin’.” My eyes must convey my worry, because he slaps a hand to my back and says, “Look, just stick by me, alright? You’ll see that Julio isn’t a monster. Neither’s Benji. They’re harmless. Unless the girl Julio’s seeing is there, too. Then you might hear a few bumps against the wall while we’re hangin’ in the living room, if you get what I mean.” He snorts, and I’m left to roll my eyes.
And while that may be the last time I mention Vann in Hoyt’s house, it isn’t the last time I think about him. That night when I’m on the air mattress again and Hoyt’s asleep, I pull out my phone, flip through my pics, and find the selfie I took of my mom, myself, and Vann opening night of I’ll Always Remember Seaside.
I stare at our happy faces, my heart aching with tons of unanswered questions. I know Vann said the ball’s in my court, but I really wish he’d be the first one to call me anyway. I’d listen. I’d hear him out. I might even give him another shot. Yet some sense of righteousness keeps making me pocket my phone and tell myself I’m doing the right thing by giving us time apart. When he’s around, I can’t think straight. All I want to do in his presence is tear off his clothes, slip under a set of sheets, and feel like we’re the only people in the world. That’s the thought I take with me as I close my eyes to sleep.
It’s also the thought that gets me through my shift the next night at Biggie’s, too. Every time I pass by the front door, I wonder if by some miracle Vann might come in. Isn’t he going to reach some breaking point, too? Isn’t he going mad? Quite frankly, I’m shocked he hasn’t done something super horrible or unexpected, like showing up at my house demanding to see me, or hunting me down here at Biggie’s where he obviously knows I work, or even showing up on the steps of the Strong ranch. He’s definitely bold enough to have done any of those things by now.
Of course Vann would pick a time like this to actually keep his word and be respectful and rule-abiding.
It’s Saturday evening before I know it, and we’re once again in Hoyt’s truck on a short ride to G-Man’s house on Wicker, which is just a little bit down from Mr. and Mrs. Tucker’s. Upon entering, I am met with a lingering odor of something foul I can’t put a finger on. The level of disarray in this house is far worse than Hoyt’s, yet he leads me in like it’s second nature to turn a blind eye to all the junk along the walls and on the floor, and the laundry piled in every room we pass. G-Man, or George, is a twig of a fellow who always looks like he’s waking up from a nap, and we find him on the couch with Benji and some girl I don’t know well. Two other guys from the football team are in the kitchen with some girl I might’ve had a class with once. Through the back patio door, I spot a few other people from school, but it’s clear after just a few seconds that I’m not among friends or familiar faces. Everyone is so occupied talking or eating snacks or making moves on girls, my presence is all but ignored as Hoyt goes straight for the couch, jumping between G-Man and Benji and causing them to laugh. After a moment of awkward glancing around, I take a seat in a chair already occupied by some junk, which I gently shove aside to make room, then wonder why the heck I agreed to come here.
