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The floorboards groan as he strides out. When I see his truck fade into the distance, I blow out a breath of relief, sagging to the floor. That would have been a great moment to clear the air with him.
I have to do it right this time. I just need to figure out how that is going to be.
* * *
The week leading up to Shannon and John’s engagement party became a methodical routine of working, studying, and Harley slipping into my bed at ten p.m., once his shift was finished.
Waiting for the sound of my front door creaking open and the right side of my bed dipping as Harley crawled into it quickly became a favourite moment of my day. Some nights we would stay awake talking until the early hours of the morning, and others were spent quietly, laying in each other’s arms.
I haven’t spoken to Nick all week. I am exceptionally great at avoiding people, and my problems. I try not to think about how terrible of a person I am for doing this.
My bags are packed and I’m sitting on the faded lounge chair on my porch, soaking up the sunrays, when I hear the sound of tires crunching over gravel. Belle’s Mazda pulls into view. Her tanned arm flings out the window in a wave.
“Hey girl!”
I bounce down the steps and throw my bag into the back of her car before moving around to the passenger side.
“Hey,” I say.
“Ready for a weekend of fun and excitement?” she asks me, her eyes covered with dark shades.
“Totally.”
She sticks her tongue out at me before lurching us forward. My knees slam into the dashboard and she shoots me an apologetic stare.
“Still working out this whole manual thing,” she admits, gesturing to the gearstick. “Never had one before.”
I wave her off, but absently rub my knee, my skin now sashed with a red mark.
The bus is there when we arrive and I see many familiar faces hovering in the carpark of the R.S.L, duffel bags swung over their shoulders. Most of the people standing in the carpark I haven’t seen since school.
A few people do double-takes as I walk close to where everyone is standing. I feel a little less like an outsider with Belle by my side.
“Are you listening?”
“Huh?” I drag myself back to reality, glancing at Belle.
Her hair is pulled back into a pretty French braid, trailing down her back, and she’s wearing a white, cut-off top littered with an orange butterfly print.
She rolls her eyes. “I said, Brennon and I are getting serious. I think he might ask me out this weekend.”
“What are you going to say?”
“Yes, obviously.” She nudges me.
“And when you move away?” I ask.
She shrugs. “That’s a problem for future me. Never know, he might move with me.”
I chew my lip and don’t respond. Belle is much better off to leave someone like Brennon behind when she moves on to her next place of residence, but I don’t need to air my opinion. Plenty of people would think the same about me.
There’s a layer of sweat over my skin already. I cup a hand over my eyes and use my other hand to fan myself, trying to minimise the damage the sweat will do to my makeup.
Nick, John, and Eric are off to the side, huddled in a small group, laughing and talking amongst themselves. I turn my back to them, half-hoping they won’t notice me. I’m worried Nick might ask to sit with me on the bus.
In my mind, it made sense tonothave the conversation I need to with Nick before this weekend, in an attempt to make the whole situation less awkward. Now I’m realising that was probably a dumb decision.
Jess is off to the side, standing with Rianna and a few other girls I remember from school. I avoid her stare and chew my thumb.
