Big Mistake

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Big Mistake Page 6

by Tessa Blake

“So you just, you know, out of concern, ended up sleeping in her room?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “What?”

  “And this?” He holds my wallet up again.

  I grab it back. There’s nothing I can say. I always have a just-in-case condom. All my friends know this. You never know when you might find yourself in need of one. That’s been my attitude for a long time—instilled in me by my dad.

  We had to have the talk, because he caught me and one of my high school girlfriends fooling around in my room, both of us lacking a lot of clothing. He sent the girl—Lila—home, and then hauled me into his study, where he explained that a man, a real man, always made sure that he not only protected himself, but his partner, too. He made it clear that he didn’t expect any grandkids until many years from now. It’s your responsibility, he said. It’s what a man does. Don’t be a selfish dick.

  I feel exactly the same way right now as I did then. Levi does a great impression of my dad, even if he didn’t intend to. And I have a sinking feeling I’ve been a selfish dick.

  “You slept with Beck, didn’t you?”

  I feel like a balloon that the air’s been let out of. There it is, right out in the open. Beck and I agreed not to tell, but….

  My shoulders sag. “Yes,” I say, not looking at him.

  “Dude, how could you?”

  Four simple words. Devastating. He’s right. How could I?

  “It just happened.” It sounds lame, but what can I do? “I didn’t mean for it to happen, and neither did she.”

  Levi grabs my arm. “What are you saying?”

  I look into his eyes—they’re angry, and it takes me a minute to understand his question. “No! What the fuck, Levi? You think I’d … force Beck? Or anyone?”

  “You said—”

  “I can’t believe you’d even have the stones to ask me that. I love Beck. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” I kick the leg of a chair. “I asked her if she was sure, like, fifteen times. I would never—”

  “I’m sorry.” He runs his hands through his shaggy brown hair, then nods at me. “You’re right, I know better. But what the hell were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t. We were drunk. We just….” I shrug.

  “You just what? Oops, slipped and fell into bed?”

  “Well, kind of.” I’m starting to wish he’d stop talking about it, because now I’m thinking about it again. About her hair, and the way she smelled, and her body arching up to meet mine in the moonlight—

  “So what happens now? You think about that?”

  “Of course I did,” I say, dragging my thoughts back to the present. “We both did—you know, when we got up this morning and talked it through. Like adults do.”

  Judging by his expression, Levi isn’t all that impressed with my maturity. “And?”

  “Everything’s fine. We’re friends. This is a little weird, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  Levi looks at me like I’ve just grown another head. “So you had a one-night stand, and she’s fine with it.”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that—”

  “Are you gonna start dating, or something?” He raises his eyebrows. “What happens when she reaches her expiration date, Garrett?”

  I wince. “No, we’re not gonna start dating. I wouldn’t do that to Beck.”

  “Well, you seem to be checking items off the things you wouldn’t do to Beck list, so—”

  “Zip it,” I snap. “It was a drunk thing, and it won’t happen again. We talked about it and agreed. Nothing changes.”

  He presses his lips together and put his hands on his hips; looks at me, then away. His shoulders start to shake.

  Is he having a seizure or something? “Levi, you okay?”

  When he looks back at me, he’s laughing. Silently, but definitely laughing. He tries to speak, then loses it and lets out a giant whoop of laughter.

  Okay, what the fuck? Seriously.

  I punch him in the arm. “Cut it out.”

  He wipes actual tears off his face, still chuckling despite the punch, which I know damn well hurt. “You are so fucking stupid, Garrett.”

  “No, I’m not. Beck and I talked, and everything’s fine. We’re friends. We were friends yesterday, and we’re still friends today. Just because we….”

  “Banged like rabbits?”

  “Whatever, asshole. We’re both adults. Shit happens sometimes. so last night some shit happened. But it’s fine.”

  “You’re delusional,” Levi says.

  Now I’m irritated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re fine. Why would we be anything else?”

  He’s not laughing anymore. “Oh, I don’t know. Because there’s lines you don’t cross, and you crossed them?”

  “You’re wrong. It’ll be fine.”

  He looks at me for what seems like a long time, then relents. “Let’s get cleaned up for brunch,” he says, and turns to walk to the elevator. I follow him, and when we get on, it’s just the two of us. I put the button for the ninth floor.

  Levi turns to me. “So … I’m sorry, but I gotta ask, man. How was it?”

  I groan.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “It was….” I remember her in the moonlight. Laughing. Her mouth. My mouth. “It was fucking amazing.”

  Levi shakes his head again. “You’re so fucked.”

  “You’re so wrong.”

  I know I’m right about this. We talked. She was fine when I left. We’re friends—best friends. Why would I be fucked? We were honest with each other, like you are with your best friend. Like I just was with Levi, even though I didn’t want to be.

  Everything will be fine.

  But when we step off the elevator, Levi’s phone pings. When he checks it his face gets grim. “We gotta go,” he says.

  “What?”

  “It’s Bri. She said Beck’s really sick. They both want to go home.”

  I feel a trickle of unease in my stomach. “Damn. What’s wrong with her?”

  “Bri just says she’s sick, and they want to go home.” He shrugs. “Do you think—”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No, I told you, we’re fine.”

  “Okay, well, I’m not planning to grill them about it. Even if it’s not related to … you know. What if it’s, like, something to do with periods? No thanks.”

  “Good point. Let me pack up real quick, and I’ll take care of the hotel. Shit, I need to cancel the reservations tonight, too.” I made plans for us to have a more laid-back dinner at a small place where my dad knows the chef. He’s been a family friend for a long time, and I thought it would be a nice contrast to the fancy dinner last night. I don’t want to leave him hanging.

  “Okay. I’ll text Bri back and let her know we can go as soon as you’re ready.”

  It doesn’t take long to straighten everything out. Forty-five minutes, maybe an hour later, and I’m in hell.

  I look in the rearview mirror. Beck sits in the back with Brianna, looking out the window, not talking. It’s not like her not to take part in the conversation, and I can tell that she’s upset. I know her well enough that I can actually feel it—feel her unhappiness in the seat behind me.

  Levi and Brianna keep a conversation. I want to be part of it—show that everything’s okay, everything’s fine—but I’m too weighed down by the unhappiness emanating from the back seat.

  I thought she was fine. I thought we were fine.

  The ride is excruciating. The longer it takes, the more apparent it is that Beck and I are, in fact, not fine.

  When I stop in front of her house, she says a quiet goodbye, hugging Brianna and saying something to Levi. I get out and go back to help her get her bag out of the trunk.

  “Thanks for thinking of this trip,” she says, not looking at me. “I’m sorry I ruined it.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything,” I say quickly. “Nothing is ruined, Beck. It’s all good.”

  S
he nods almost imperceptibly. Then she walks around the car, leans in to say one last thing to Levi and Brianna, and goes around the side of her house to let herself in the back.

  I watch her go with my heart in my throat.

  Chapter 9

  Rebecca

  It’s been four days since I got back from Boston. Four days since I woke up and realized I blew up my life. Four days since I lied to my mother, when she asked why we were back so soon.

  Four days since I’ve heard Garrett’s voice, or seen his face.

  He’s called me every day. I don’t answer.

  So here it is, Wednesday, and I’ve just sent him yet another noncommittal text about how I’m really busy this week.

  The phone rings, but this time it’s Bri. “Get up, lazy,” she says by way of a greeting.

  “I’m up, thanks. Great motivational speech.”

  “When I’ve got my degree, I’ll get paid fat bank for that, I’ll have you know. Get off your bed and go get a shower. We’re going out today.”

  I sigh. “I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t care what you want. You’re done pouting for now.”

  “I’m fine, Bri.”

  “Yeah, and I’m Kylie Jenner. Shut up. I’ll pick you up in an hour. If you’re not ready, I get to pick your outfit.” She hangs up.

  That’s enough to make me get up. If I don’t comply, she’ll just steamroll over me—and she will pick out my clothes, and I’ll end up wearing something horrible when she drags me out.

  I force myself to shower, and I’m at least presentable by the time she arrives. She looks sleek and pretty in a sleeveless blue sundress with her long blond hair french-braided. I can never sit still long enough to do that with my hair.

  Her first words are: “You look tired.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”

  “Yeah, you’re gorgeous, blah, blah. But you look tired. Have you been sleeping? Are you still upset about—”

  “Bye, Mom!” I shout, and start to push Bri out the front door. “We’ll be back later!”

  “Bye, Mrs. Lowell!” Bri yells over my shoulder. Outside, she whispers, “You didn’t tell her?”

  “Tell my mother I shagged Garrett Crawford all night in an expensive hotel room he paid for, because I had too much to fucking drink?” I push her ahead of me down the stairs. “No, Bri, as it happens, I did not lose my goddamn mind and tell my mother that.”

  She winces. “Sorry.”

  We walk around the side of the house and out front to Bri’s car. “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “I need to do some shopping,” she says, “and even though you’re a sad mess, I can’t go clothes shopping without your valuable second opinion.”

  “Really?” I say. “That’s weird, since you’ve bought at least 80% of your wardrobe without me.”

  “Well, I’ve got eyes, and can generally see if something fits me,” she admits. “But you’ll have a better view of my ass. And anyway, you gotta get out of the damn house.” We climb in; she starts the car and pulls out. “Has he called?”

  “Every day.”

  “What does he say?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “I don’t answer.”

  Bri sighs. “Well, that’s mature. Tell him you’ll still be friends and then ignore him.”

  “I text him,” I say, annoyed at having to defend myself. “I tell him I’m tired, and like that. Not no, just not right now.”

  She lets out her breath. “Why don’t you want to talk to him? I thought you were fine with everything that happened?”

  “I am. I just need to get my head straight.”

  Bri pulls up to a stop light and gives me the stink eye. “You told me, over and over, that this wouldn’t hurt your friendship, and everything was fine. What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

  I sigh. “Everything is fine. I just need some time.” I couldn’t keep the truth from her that morning in the hotel room, but I also can’t tell her all of it. I don’t even understand it myself, and the parts I do understand are too personal to share right now, even with Bri.

  But every time Garrett calls, every time I see his name on my phone, I don’t want to talk to him. I can’t. Tears fill my eyes—every time!—and I have to ignore the call.

  “Can we table any Garrett conversation?” I ask. “I’m not sure where I am with things right now, and talking about it until I’m ready for my ears to fall off isn’t going to help.”

  “That’s such shit, Beck. You just don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Maybe,” I say. There’s certainly an element of that. “When I’m ready, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Fair enough.” She nods and turns on the radio. We listen to music as she gets on the highway and heads for South Portland and the mall. I feel steadier when we pull off the interstate and onto the mall access road. Bri heads for the main entrance and snags a parking place pretty close to the doors.

  “What are you shopping for?” I ask as we get out.

  “I need new everything, and it all needs to be amazing.”

  “Everything?” I ask with a smile. “For all occasions?”

  She nods. “No matter what, I need to look like a goddess at all times.” There’s a determined look on her face as she pushes the doors open and beelines for H&M.

  “What’s up, Bri?” I feel bad because, seeing her expression, I realize I’ve been a shitty friend. I have no idea why Bri is in search of a new wardrobe, and I should know this. “You got a hot date you haven’t told me about?”

  Her face goes pink. “When have I been able to tell you anything? You shut yourself off.”

  I sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Bri. I’m a jerk. I have been since the end of the school year.”

  “Well, it hasn’t exactly been the best beginning to your summer,” she says, her expression softening. “First Sam, and now this thing with Garrett.”

  I hold up a hand. “We aren’t talking about him.”

  “No, we’re not.” She smiles. “Come on, I’ve been saving money, and haven’t done any shopping lately. Remember: goddess level!”

  Laughing, I take her arm and we head into H&M. This is exactly what I need.

  Two hours later, we’re loaded down with her bags. True to plan, everything she’s gotten so far is definitely at goddess level. I laughed so hard while she was trying things on. If she came out and it wasn’t goddess, I’d tell her so by calling it something else: scullery maid. Trash collector. Barnacle. It feels like forever since I’ve just been silly.

  With Bri’s debit card weeping softly in her wallet, we decide to cap the outing with a latte at the overpriced mall coffee kiosk. This is what having best friends is all about.

  I’ve had days like this with Garrett, too. Just going out mini-golfing or to the beach, laughing easily. Being friends. I have a terrible feeling those days are over for us, and it makes my throat close up with sadness.

  I shove thoughts of him aside and sip my latte, because I meant it when I said he is not a topic today. All the thinking about him in the world isn’t going to solve anything right now, and today is just too nice to ruin that way.

  So I shove Garrett to the back of my mind. Plenty of time to think about him later.

  I’m busy being pleased with myself at this mature turn of events, when Brianna curses under her breath.

  “What?”

  “Oh, Beck.” She frowns, then points behind me with her chin.

  I turn around and feel like I’ve been poleaxed.

  On the other side of the food court, hand in hand with … some skank, is Sam. My ex.

  He sees me just as I see him, and stops to stare. The girl he’s with seems clueless and keeps walking. But when she realizes he’s not walking with her anymore, she turns, then looks around to see what it is he’s so focused on. She sees me, and her face darkens.

>   Great. The hate she’s throwing is making it all the way across the food court completely intact. Just what I need.

  “Oh, this could get ugly,” Bri mutters.

  I break eye contact and turn my back on him. “It’s fine,” I say. “There’s no reason for anything to get ugly. He’s obviously where he wants to be, and with whom.”

  “If looks could kill,” Bri says. “She was not happy.”

  “Well, don’t you think that’s pretty ridiculous? What’s the point of petty jealousy? He’s the one who broke up with me.” The hurt of that whole thing wells up again. Like I need that, on top of everything else.

  “Breaking up is not the end of the world, Beck.”

  Bri’s last boyfriend, Ted, refused to move in with her when she suggested it last winter because “moving in leads to getting married.” And, apparently, he’s never going to get married.

  Bri was blindsided. He somehow managed to keep that tidbit to himself for two solid years—which, to be fair, she should have noticed his answers to questions about marriage and the future mostly amounted to noncommittal shrugs—and she was utterly shocked that he saw literally no future for them. She really cared about him, and took some time to think about it and decide if it was a dealbreaker.

  It was. A week later, she broke up with him.

  I think she’s held it together pretty well, considering they were together for two years. Here I am blubbering over me and Sam, which was like six months. And then me and Garrett, which was a whole night.

  Not even the same.

  “No, it’s not, and I’m sorry,” I say. “I know the Ted thing was hard on you.”

  “It was.” She waves it away dismissively. “But it was ages ago. Sam’s recent, and I know you didn’t expect it.”

  “I thought…. Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”

  “You glowed with him. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone else except—” She bites her lip.

  “What?”

  “Well, have you thought that maybe Sam was right?”

  It takes me a moment. “About Garrett? Are you crazy?”

  She shrugs. “Well, let’s look at you. You were heartbroken over Sam—more than he deserves, in my opinion, but okay. And he says this ridiculous thing about Garrett, which we have quite a laugh about, right?” She takes a sip of her latte. “But next thing I know, you go ahead and try Garrett on for size after all.”

 

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