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I don’t turn as I back out of the driveway. I don’t dare look in the rearview mirror, the thought of seeing Adrienne kissing Trent enough to make me risk backing out blindly into traffic. The pain of a crash is less likely to hit me as hard as the image of them kissing has done to me.
Safely on the road, I shift gears and press on the gas as hard as I can. I need this night to be over in the worst possible of ways.
13
The car rolls in silence to the curb outside of my parents’ house. A deadly quiet echoed through the cabin of the car during the five-minute drive from Jasmine’s house. Lucas bypasses his parents’ driveway a few feet away, revealing another clue. He’s dropping me off as if he’s a rideshare driver and I’m just another passenger. I reach for the door handle to escape, and Trent taps my arm.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he says and hops out the opposite door. As he makes his way around the car, I turn to face Lucas.
His gaze is laser focused ahead, both hands tight on the steering wheel. For over a dozen years I prided myself on knowing his every thought. Right here in this moment, I can’t reach him. “Thanks for doing the driving,” I offer, my voice tentative and weak.
The only acknowledgment I receive is a slight nod of his head. I offer him the only words I know that may reach him, the same words he offered to me at the airport five years ago when he left. “Our future is ours.”
The air in the car crackles, and his death grip eases. The muscles on the back of his hand relax, loosening and dropping away. My pulse quickens, and I lean forward as he lowers his chin and turns in my direction. I don’t dare miss a syllable.
“I…” His raspy voice hitches, and I press hard on the tips of my toes, straining to hear.
The creak of the passenger-side rear door opening halts his words. It forces me to release a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding.
“BRB, bro,” Trent interrupts, his hand shooting forward to take mine.
I freeze in place, one leg outside the car, one inside, and give Lucas a second chance. “Night, BND,” I whisper.
His hands shoot up to the steering wheel, the death grip back. His nod is toward the front dashboard, a grunt replacing a proper response. He taps a button and flips to a sports talk radio station—one that he knows I hate, and I get the message. Get out of my car.
I escape, the door barely having time to close behind me before the car lurches forward. The tires screech, leaving an unnecessary skid mark as the car spins in a U-turn, my eyes glued to the movement. I watch to see if Lucas looks in my direction. He doesn’t. His focus is on the road and the fifty-foot drive to the driveway next door.
“Let’s go.” Trent’s hands land on the top of my shoulders and give a gentle squeeze.
I turn, my eyes quickly returning to the car as Trent leads me to my porch. “What have I done?”
Trent doesn’t respond. I didn’t expect him to. We walk in silence and step up onto the porch. I pull the daisy from my hair and stick it into the planter that sits on the porch. The harsh morning sun will destroy the beauty of the flower. It’s just as well—I don’t need any reminders of this night.
“He’s watching us.” Trent’s words carry a hint of humor. He finds our discomfort entertaining.
I look over his shoulder and spot Lucas sitting in the car in the driveway, arm resting on the open window, head turned in our direction.
“He wants to see if I’m going to kiss you again.” Trent gives a play-by-play description as if he’s a sportscaster and this is the game of the week. It’s not. It’s a stupid game I started, not having a clue the damage I would leave.
I place my hand on Trent’s chest, and regret fills my chest, but I need to be clear. “For the record, I’m the one who kissed you.” I give Trent my complete attention, my need to make sure at least one man tonight fully understands my intentions. “It was reckless and stupid.”
“It was necessary.” Trent attempts to ease my guilt. “You’ve rocked his world.”
“It’s not who we are.” I shake my head at the hundreds of conversations Lucas and I have had about all our joys, our fears, about everything. Nearly everything.
Trent removes my hand from his chest yet continues to squeeze it. We both flinch at the sound of the car door slamming. “Don’t look,” Trent warns in a whisper.
I ignore his advice. I’ve always ignored any advice anyone has ever given me when it comes to my best friend. No one knows him like I do.
Not even him.
Lucas is watching, hand on the door handle of the house but feet firmly planted in place. I can’t read his face from this distance, but I think I’ve finally figured out what is on his mind. I shoot a smile that I know he can’t see and give a wide wave that I know he can.
“Trent?” I don’t turn as Trent steps next to me. “Thanks for being such a good sport this evening.” My eyes remain glued toward Lucas, his hands now by his side, pushed into his pockets as he stares at me. “Can you deliver a message to your friend?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Tell him I said…” A sense of glee races through my body as I say the words I should have said last night in the tent. “Seven-minute future.”
