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Her gaze slowly comes back to me as she thinks over my statement.
“Who said I didn’t like you?” I can’t help the small smile that hits my lips at the innocent way she asks the question.
“Considering you haven’t spoken to me despite seeing me multiple times over the last few days, I think you’ve made that pretty clear.”
“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I’ve just got some stuff going on in my head. Don’t take it personally.”
“So should I also not take it personally that you think I’m an asshole?” This time she pulls back a little, surprise evident on her pretty face.
“I don’t think you’re an asshole.”
“That’s not what my brother said.” I poke fun at her, needing to distract myself for a minute. To feel something other than sadness that’s been blanketing me like a second skin. “After he introduced us at the graduation party you told him he was right, that I did seem like an asshole.”
“I can’t believe he told you that.” She blinks, clearly not sure how to react.
“I think he was trying to discourage me.”
“From what?”
Ialmosttell her the truth. That I’d threatened Kam that if he didn’t make a move on her I would. Not that I really would have, even if Kam didn’t tell me exactly what the stunning Elara had thought of me after the party. I never would have done that to my brother. Of course I decide against telling her any of this.
“Nothing,” I finally answer, pushing up to my feet before turning to look down at her. “So what do you say?” She looks from my face to my hands that are stretched out toward her, back to my face. “Let me buy you dinner. It will make me feel a little better,” I add.
“I should try to eat something. I guess,” she finally says, reaching her uninjured hand up to take mine, allowing me to pull her to her feet.
“Anything you’re in the mood for?”
“Can we go to Zachary’s?” she asks, as she attempts to wipe the caked sand from the back of her dress before leaning over to retrieve her heels.
“The old place over on Charles Street?” I ask, waiting until she steps up next to me before turning.
“It was kind of me and Kam’s place. He would always take me there for pancakes.” She gives me a sad smile as she walks next to me.
“Zachary’s it is.” I nod. “Though I think we should probably change first.”
“Yeah.” She agrees, looking down at herself. “That’s probably a good idea.”
“I can drive you over to your place,” I offer, gesturing to my black Audi parked right to our left. “My stuff is at my parents’ anyway,” I say, knowing she lives in the apartment over her aunt’s garage next door.
“I don’t know if I should be riding in your car.” She gestures down to her wet, sand covered dress.
“It’ll be fine,” I promise, laying my hand on the small of her back as I guide her toward the car. I don’t miss the way she tenses the instant the contact is made.
I get her settled into the passenger seat before crossing around the car and climbing into the driver’s side. It’s eerily quiet as we make our way down the near vacant coastline. Elara sits completely still next to me, her eyes fixed out the window.
By the time we pull into my parents’ driveway just a few short miles from the beach, I’m fully expecting her to back out. So when she exits the car, telling me she’ll be right back, I’m honestly a little surprised.
I watch her as she crosses the yard, disappearing inside the detached garage that sits to the right of the main house just moments later.
Slipping inside the front door of my parents’ house, I quietly make my way up to my old bedroom where I’ve been crashing the last few days, hoping to not draw attention to the fact that I’m here.
The last thing I want to do right now is deal with my parents. I know that sounds bad but I’m having a hard enough time dealing with this shit as it is. Having to watch my mom’s tears stream down her face on constant repeat is more than I can handle right now.
Luckily the house is quiet and I’m able to sneak into my room undetected, reminding me of all the times I’ve tiptoed into my room before, hoping mom and dad wouldn’t catch me coming home from a late night party. God that seems like a life time ago.
Quickly stripping out of my damp suit and into a pair of jeans and long sleeve shirt, I stop when I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror that hangs on the back of the door. I stand there for a long moment, realizing for the first time how much I really do look like Kam–especially wearing his hat.
“What the fuck are you doing, Thaler?” I ask out loud, pulling the Dodgers cap off my head to look at the frayed material.
