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I winced a little at the way her voice pitched up at the end, heart already pounding fast. I shouldn’t have said anything, but the black hole yawning beneath me had begun to swallow me whole. “That’s what I’m saying. I don’t know if it is a crush, or…”Or if it’s me fixating on one thing that happened between us.
A wave of headlights from behind us filled the cab, triggering Rachel to accelerate past the stop sign. “Is it Josh?”
It made sense that her mind went to Josh. “I plead the fifth.”
We journeyed the remaining minute from the school to her driveway in utter silence, my best friend processing my hypothetical with a semi-remote expression. Her eyes were wide, but I couldn’t glean a single emotion from them. At least until she turned off the car and turned to me.
“You can tell me if it’s not Josh.” Her brown eyes were wide, and though the cab was dark, her expression was clear. “We’re best friends. We tell each other everything.”
Was that true, though? It had been at one point, I guess, but now, did it still hold? There was so much I had kept from both Rachel and Maisie the past few weeks, and it was one thing stacking on top of the other. Like each thing was a brick crushing my chest flat, knocking any and all remaining oxygen from my lungs. I couldn’t tell them any of that.Iwas the strong friend.
“I kissed him.”
“Josh?”
“No, it…it wasn’t Josh.”
Panic chased hot on the heels of my words, and if my brain had feet, it’d be kicking me for opening my mouth. Rachel’s reaction was about what I’d expected it to be, gasping and wide-eyed. “Ava! You—you kissed someone? When? Who? How am I finding out about this just now?”
“It was impulsive,” I told Rachel, and through the racing pulse roaring in my ears, I could barely hear myself. “I—I did it without thinking. I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed, so please don’t ask who it was. I’ll tell you…one day. I just…I regret it.”
“That’s why you got over the whole Most Likely To thing so quickly,” Rachel realized, slumping in the seat with her thoughts obviously racing a mile a minute. Then she turned to me. “Was it a bad kiss? Is that why you regret it?”
My experience with kissing was limited—I’d had exactlyone—but how was I supposed to tell her that it exceeded every single expectation I had built up in my head? Years and years of thinking about my first kiss, and my fantasies never had been able to come close to the reality. But if I told her how good it was, she wouldn’t stop until she got the guy’s name, age, and street address.
And she’d have a heart attack when she realized how many of those things she had in common with him.Manning, seventeen, 304 Walnut Street.
“I liked it more than he did,” I said, feeling pathetic as soon as the words were out. “And I hate that I liked it, because I don’t think he’s thought twice about it.”
“Screw him, then,” she said simply. “If a guy can’t see your worth, he’s obviously blind.”
Her words were probably meant to be comforting, but there was something shallow about them. They did nothing to burrow in deep and chip away some of the anxiety, and maybe it was because I knew she didn’t know the whole story. If shehadknown the whole story, I knew without a doubt she’d be changing her tune. I might’ve been her best friend, but Reed was her brother. Blood. If anyone was going to get forgiveness, it would be him.
I regretted saying anything, for drawing any sort of attention to me at all. “It’s not that big of a deal,” I said, tipping my chin up and drawing in a deep breath. “You’re right. That guy’s definitely blind.”
Now it was my words that felt shallow, hollow. Spoken with little to no conviction, but Rachel bought them, and reached over to squeeze my hand. “Josh isn’t blind. He’s so into you. Shift your sights from your bummer of a guy onto Josh and things will be much better. Promise.”
I wasn’t sure what “so into me” looked like, or how Rachel would know, but I didn’t ask. I popped open the car door at the same time Rachel did, both of us standing in her ghostly driveway. The streetlamp nearest to us had burnt out, casting the yard in blue-ish shadows.
“I’m going to grab my overnight bag,” Rachel said, and then pointed a finger at me over the roof of her car. “Next time, tell me when things are bothering you. I mean it.”
With how much I’d been keeping bottled up, the idea of confessing any ounce of it felt impossible. Even still, I nodded.
After waving goodbye, I walked across the dark street with my arms wrapped around my middle. As I stepped onto my driveway, I noticed for the first time that Mom’s car was absent from it. I double-checked the garage in case she’d decided to park in there, but it was lacking her sedan. Nerves stirred in me. It was after ten—why wasn’t she home yet?
My thoughts launched into overdrive, assuming the worst. Her car was broken down on the side of the road. She’d gotten into an accident and was passed out, unable to make a phone call. One of her showings today had gone crazy and was holding her hostage in the house’s basement.
Without letting myself fall into the rabbit hole—too deeply, that is—I pulled my phone out and checked out Friend Finder app. Her little dot popped up, and she was on Main Street, right around the corner.
Sonotcurrently in a basement being held hostage. Good to know.
I changed out of my Brentwood gear quickly and scrubbed off my makeup, wiping away the black pawprint on my cheek. Before bed, I’d have to hurry and post the score for the game. I was happy that I’d drafted most of the post earlier before the game had actually ended. All I had to do now was put in the final scores as well as Connor’s last touchdown. And then—sleep. Blessed, blessed sleep. Hopefully tonight I’d be able to fall into the blissful oblivion without picturing Reed Manning mowing lawn.
After buttoning up my sleep shirt and shrugging on the matching shorts—a blue gingham print that was the cutest thing in the world—I finally let my space buns down from their headache-inducing death grip. My scalp sighed in relief.
But as I swiped up my cell, ready to post the game’s updates, my gaze caught on my bedroom window. My blinds were down—no one was getting a free peep show—but something drew me to them anyway, like a magnet attracting a sliver of metal.
And I honestly wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, because when I pried the blinds apart, there was no one outside. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at Reed’s bedroom window, but he wasn’t standing in the frame of it. His room was dark, like he’d already gone to bed. Doubtful, for eleven o’clock on a Friday night. Maybe, like Rachel had said, he’d snuck out again, disappearing off to who knew where. Maybe he was sneaking off to Cindy’s.
