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Rosie tapped her pencil on her desk in her bedroom, staring out the window. She couldn’t see anything because of how dark it was outside, and she couldn’t focus because she was thinking about Rebel, and the encounter that happened at school.
What had gotten into him? Why was he acting like this, seemingly all of a sudden? Did he really dislike Charleston so much that he’d order him not to touch her or even think about her?
It seemed extreme, but Rosie also couldn’t lie and say having Rebel so protective didn’t please every part of her.
But he’d been distant the rest of the day, had dropped her off, but had left right away. What was going on inside of him that he couldn’t talk to her about?
Was it the drinking, the partying … God forbid, drugs? She resolved that she’d talk to him tonight, to see what was wrong, make him talk to her, tell her what he was going through. They weren’t just living under the same roof, they were best friends, and she’d remind him of that.
They’d known each other nearly their whole lives, and that had to count for something, right?
But what if it’s a girl? What if he’s found someone and is uncomfortable talking to you about it? What if it’s not just a piece of ass for him?
She needed to not think about that because she’d just end up driving herself crazy. No, she’d talk to Rebel and that was the end of it. She was tired of pretending, of not thinking she could be happy.
If things got weird then they got weird, but not being honest with herself or him was painful. Rosie didn’t want that to be her life, where she regretted what she should have done.
What a shitty life she’d lead if she never got her feelings off her chest. She’d at least be able to sleep better at night, even if Rebel didn’t want anything to do with her.
* * *
I should have just gone homeright after work.
But all Rebel had been able to think about was Rosie and the look of confusion and shock she’d given him when he’d all but beaten fucking Charleston’s ass.
“We’re here.”
Rebel glanced over at Mickey, one of the guys he worked with, and the person he’d gone to the bar with afterward. It didn’t matter that he was only eighteen.
There were plenty of places around town where he could get a drink because he knew the people. But he wasn’t drunk, just buzzed and trying to forget about all the ways he’d fucked shit up.
“Thanks for the lift.”
Mickey nodded. “Anytime.”
He got out of the car and shut the door, standing there a second and staring at the front of the house. It was late, but even if he’d come home right after work everyone would have been settling down for the evening. He wasn’t full-time at his job, for obvious school reasons, but after he graduated he was going to save up and get his own place.
He needed that, needed a place that didn’t remind him of the girl he loved that would no longer be in town.
Scrubbing a hand over his hair he made his way toward the front door, unlocked it, and went inside. Rebel could have just gone through the basement door and not have to talk to anyone if they were still up, but he secretly hoped he’d run into Rosie.
He didn’t know what he’d say, maybe the truth finally, but he wasn’t thinking that far. He just wanted to see her, to touch her…
Get that out of your fucking head. She’s your best friend, probably sees you as nothing more. If you tell her you’re in love with her she’ll fucking back away and there will be this wall between you two.
But the house was quiet and still. He went into the kitchen, grabbed a plate of leftovers from the fridge, and took it downstairs.
But he stopped at the staircase and looked up, seeing light coming from underneath Rosie’s closed door. He wanted to go talk to her, but common sense told him to leave this alone right now.
So, instead of being a man and dealing with this head-on, like he did with most things, he went to the door that led to his room, and left well enough alone.
But it’s far from fucking well.
* * *
Rosie foundherself leaving her room, walking down the stairs, going to the door that led to the basement, and opening it. She should have called Rebel’s cell phone, given him a heads-up she wanted to talk, even if he was in the same house as she was.
But she was just doing this, and not giving herself time to think about what she should or shouldn’t do.
