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“God, you act like such a spoiled brat, you know that?” she fired at my back. “It’s like you’ve never had to deal with anything in your life, and now, you’re leaning on me to make shit better for you instead of learning to be happy with yourself.”
Every vile, bullshit word that came out of her mouth was an assault against my fractured mind and something else, something deeper, something that ached at the sound of her voice. I stopped walking, looked over my shoulder to stare her down, and sneered despite the screaming from that deep, hidden place, saying,How can she know me so well?
“I’m not talking about this anymore, Lennon,” I muttered from between clenched teeth before pushing the door open and stepping out into the bright sunlight.
The car wasn’t far from the door. I just had to get from the sidewalk and over ten feet of asphalt. Then, I could get in and drive her home, drop her off, and be done with this. Maybe even be done with her forever, once and for all.
“Dylan, wait,” she pleaded from behind me, farther than before.
With a quick glance over my shoulder, I saw her left on the sidewalk, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun’s unruly assault. In my anger, I had forgotten about her sensitivity to the light, and the guilt chased enough of the rage away for me to turn around.
“I’m sorry,” I said, putting my hand between her shoulder blades. “The curb is right in front of you.”
She nodded and stepped down. Then, with my hand guiding her way, we walked the ten feet of parking lot to the car, where I brought her to the passenger side and opened the door.
“Thanks,” she said, offering a little smile before climbing in.
“Yep.”
She buckled up while I got in behind the wheel and started the car. The engine rumbled, Smashing Pumpkins began to play, and I wondered what I should say now, if anything at all. I had just jumped down her throat, and I knew I should probably apologize. But before I could speak, Lennon’s phone began to ring.
“Oh, hold on,” she said, pulling it out of her bag and putting it to her ear. “Hello?”
I turned to watch her face morph from taken aback and upset to unfiltered bliss. Her grin traveled for miles as she turned away to speak, and it bothered me more than it should’ve that it wasn’t me making her smile like that.
“Hey,” she answered quietly. “What are you up to? Oh, lucky you, getting out of work early. Yeah, I’m just hanging out with an old—what? Right now?”
She giggled the type of giggle girls only gave to the person they were into, and my upper lip curled with disgust and the primal urge to grab the phone and scream into it.
“Um, well, my mom was cooking dinner, but, yeah, let me see if I can get a ride. Hold on.”
She lowered the phone to her shoulder, turned to me, and asked, “Hey, would you be able to take me to my boyfriend’s place?”
It took me a moment to process that word—boyfriend.
Boyfriend…
It lingered in the air one second too long, permeating the space between us with its putrid stench, and I fought the urge to wrinkle my nose. Like she had some nerve, releasing those abhorrent syllables into my car and ditching dinner for him and not me. Like she had some fucking nerve to move on.
But I swallowed and licked my bottom lip before wrapping my palms around the steering wheel and nodding.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied in a grumble.
Lennon gave me his address—Peter. I knew things were getting serious between them—I could tell from the pictures she posted occasionally on social media. But silly me, I’d thought it was getting serious in the way I was serious about sleeping with her. There were no titles, no commitment. I could continue to be a repeat customer, and I was okay with it. I wasn’t thrilled with her seeing someone else when I wasn’t around, but I could deal.
But that word—boyfriend—felt like the final nail in the coffin of my time with her, and somehow, it was aimed straight at my heart.
“So, you’re happy with him, huh?” I commented, steering the car in the direction of the guy’s house.
Peter.
Lennon nodded, but I caught the hesitation she probably thought I’d missed. “He’s a good guy,” she said quietly.
“You fuck him yet?”
Her head turned so quick that I thought she’d snapped her damn neck. “Excuse me?”
“We’re friends, right? Friends ask each other shit like that,” I replied, not at all proud of the kick I was getting out of making her angry and defensive.
