Used

by Kate Dunbar

  I heard my Mama mentioning how Kyla was blossoming into a beautiful young lady to Valerie, her mom, a couple days ago. They were standing out on our driveway, and Lucas was leaning by the door while I read in the porch swing. When I glanced at him, his cheeks were pink and so were his ears. He asked me what I was looking at.

  Of course, I said nothing and went back to my reading. I like him ignoring me.

  A moan floats into my room. What in the world is Lucas doing? I need to get this homework done. I can’t concentrate.

  Throwing my pencil onto the ground next to my paper, I pull myself up, walk across the room, and fling open my door. Lucas’s bedroom door is open a crack, and I can see his shirtless back through the sliver.

  Yep, working out again.

  His arm muscles are moving back and forth, pumping, probably with one of his dumbbells Dad bought him this past Christmas. He’s been obsessed with them. I roll my eyes. Boys are dumb.

  I’m about to call out his name and tell him to keep it down when I hear him moan again. This time, I recognize my name in the sound, and my feet come to a halt. My hand is on his door ready to push it open and ask him what in the world he’s doing when I see his back muscles tighten and shudder as the words, “Oh, yeah…” are quietly uttered.

  Something’s not right. I don’t know what he’s doing, but he’s never worked out like this before. And I don’t want to have anything to do with it. Or for him to turn around and see me standing here watching. He’ll go crazy.

  I turn around and flee down the hallway—back to my room and my fractions—as quickly and quietly as I had come.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A loud thumping against my front door makes me jump and bang my knee into the kitchen cabinets. “Shit.” I glance at the note lying on the counter one last time before I hobble to the door and peek out the peephole. Micah stands on the other side tapping her foot with her arms full. Taking a deep breath, I throw the locks and yank the door open.

  “Hey. What took you so long?” She pushes past me and walks into the kitchen to drop the bags off.

  “What? What do you mean? I came right to the door.”

  “Nope. I’ve been standing there for five minutes, and I knocked twice. You do realize this keeps happening?” She gives me a knowing look and hauls items out, placing them on the counter. Micah stops with her arm in the air. A large bag filled with brownies hangs over her head as she turns to stare at me. “Is this what you were doing?” She picks up the note, replaces it with her brownies, and reads leaning on the counter.

  “It’s nothing, Micah. Don’t worry about it.”

  She whips her head around to look at me with flashing eyes and shoots back, “This is not nothing, Sabra. This is definitely something.” Micah stands straighter and turns to me. “You got another one?”

  I pluck the note from her fingers and nod my head. “Why are you whispering? And yes, today. It was on my door when I got home from the audition.” I reach into the bag on the counter and pull out a bottle of wine and a container of the nectar of the gods. “You made guacamole?”

  “Yes, you can’t have nachos without real guacamole. That fake crap you buy at the grocery store in a bag is not holy or good. It won’t cut it. And don’t change the subject,” she says, grabbing the container out of my hands. “Finish telling me what happened.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I was spinning my keys thinking about what to say when I called Trevor back, but when I walked to my door, this was hanging there staring at me. So, I ripped it down and brought it inside to read. And now it’s here in my kitchen and so are you. End of story.”

  Micah’s eyes change into tiny slits as she listens to me, her mind spinning. This is when she would normally tell me exactly what she thinks. Instead, recognition flickers in her face.

  “Wait. You were going to call Trevor?” She stares at me with her mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. If I weren’t so messed up right now, I’d be doubled over and laughing at her, but I’m not. My humor seems to have left the building tonight.

  “Yes.” I shrug my shoulders as if calling Trevor after weeks of not talking to him is no big deal. Because it’s not. At all. He’s just a boy who’s a friend.

  A sexy boy who’s a friend who knows how to handle me. And what I look like naked. Lying on a rock.

  I throw that thought out the window before I travel down a path I don’t want to be on and walk into the living room, curling up on the couch with my knees tucked under me. “Did you bring a cheesy movie with you?”

  “Oh no, you don’t, Sabra Valentine. You don’t get to move on like that. Finish telling me about the letter. Eat nachos and watch a movie, fine. But you’re going to tell me more about Trevor later.” Micah tosses herself on the other end of the couch and mock glares at me. “Spill it right now.”

  “Again, there’s nothing to tell. The letter was on the door. I read it. I still have no idea where they are coming from unless it’s Lucas. Which I refuse to think about because if I do, you’ll be putting me in a white jacket and having someone stick a large needle in my ass right before they haul me away.” Micah’s eyes widen before blinking rapidly. “Honestly, that’s it. I don’t know anything more.”

  Seeing a loose thread on the cushion of my sofa, I play with it, yanking and pulling, instead of looking back at Micah. The silence is deafening, and I wait for her to say something. Anything except tell me what I should do or how I should be reacting. I pretty much want to ignore that any of this is happening altogether. Maybe I don’t want her to say anything, after all.

  “Okay.”

  I lift my head. “Okay?”

  “Yes, okay.” She nods at me. “What else is there to say? You found a note on your door and say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing. Even if it might be something.” I open my mouth to correct her, but she hurries on. “I’m sure you’re right. Like you were sure I was right with the first one, right?” She smiles sweetly at me, but I see the shrewd way she’s looking at me behind the nice-girl act.

  I don’t care, so I play along and smile back. “Right. Now, can we make our nachos and stuff our faces? I need sustenance.” I get back off the couch and head to the kitchen. “Today has been the longest day ever.”

  “Sure. And while we make the queso and all the fixings, you can tell me about calling Trevor.” She wiggles her eyebrows and takes out a cutting board and knife to dice a tomato.

  I groan, throw my head on the counter with my cheek on the chilly granite, and stare at her before I squeeze them shut.

  “You didn’t honestly think you were going to get off that easy, did you?” She laughs.

  I turn my head in defeat, the granite cooling my forehead. “I was kind of hoping so?”

  “That’s your mistake. We’ve been friends for years now, and I’ve let you out of plenty. This is not going to be one of those times. Stir the cheese and tell me everything.”

  “There’s nothing to te—”

  “No, Say. I’ve already heard that speech tonight.” She points the knife at me. “Twice. Pick another one. The juicy one.”

  “Fine. But you’re going to be disappointed,” I reply, stirring the melting cheese on the stove.

  “Try me.” Micah slaps me on the ass before turning back to the cutting board.

  “Trevor has been texting and calling me off and on since the night he found me at the bar.” I don’t look in her direction. Instead, I stare at the melting cheese as if it’s the most interesting thing on the planet. Like if I take my eyes off it for a second, it will burn, and we will be left with nothing. That’s how important this cheese is right now.

  “That I know.” She moves on to shredding the lettuce. “He told me the other day when I saw him. He looked sad. Have you texted or called him back?”

  “Not really. I’ve sent a smiley face in response or said hi, hope you’re good. That kind of thing. But I haven’t spoken to him.” We put together our plates of nachos in silence and move back to the
living room.

  “Okay, so what’s different today?” Micah settles herself on the floor with her plate on her knees. “You said you were going to call him. I thought you didn’t want to make him think there was anything between you and that was why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder. Why now?”

  I take a bite of a gooey chip piled high with deliciousness and chew, carefully thinking about my answer. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No. I don’t know.” There’s no need to tell her about the rose or my days curled on this exact spot on my couch—sobbing. Wishing for someone to find me and take care of me one minute and terrified someone might find me the next. No one else needs to know how I broke. Again. Not even Micah.

  I lift my shoulders while my plate perches on the arm of the sofa next to me. “I woke up this morning to missed calls from my agent, my mother, you, and Trevor. And I don’t know … something snapped in me. I thought it would be nice to hear his voice again. Talk to him like old times.” I look at her and shake my head. “I wanted to hear his voice, so I was going to call him.”

  It sounds pitiful, even to my own ears.

  Micah puts her food aside and moves to her knees, staring at me. “Just like that?”

  “Yes, just like that,” I mumble around a mouthful of the most amazing guacamole and cheese. “But I didn’t get to, and now who knows what will happen? The feeling has passed, to be honest.”

  She reaches over and pinches my leg. “Come on, Sabra.”

  “Ouch! What was that for?” I rub the spot she attacked and kick my legs out in front of me. “I think that’s going to leave a bruise.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t be such a baby.” Micah rolls her eyes better than any fourteen-year-old. “And even if it does, you deserve it for being so stubborn.” She picks up her plate and takes it to the sink in the kitchen with her back to me.

  I follow her to do the same and lean my hip on the counter. The note is still there, mocking me. “What did I do?”

  Micah whips around and throws her hands in the air. “Sabra, that man is head over heels for you. I don’t know what happened because you won’t tell me, but I do know there’s something more than what you are telling me.”

  “I’m not ready to talk about it.” I turn and press my hands against the countertop. I keep pressing until I’m on the edge of pain, willing myself to gain control again. To not break again.

  “I know that. I’m not judging you.” Her voice softens, and she takes a step closer to me. “I’m just saying, I don’t know what happened. But I do know Trevor and the way he stares at you. The way he has always stared at you.” One of her hands lands on my shoulder and the other covers one of my own. “He adores you and would do anything for you. It’s more than obvious to everyone.” She squeezes the top of my hand while I continue pressing down with my head bowed. “Everyone but you.”

  I can’t look at her. It is more than obvious to everyone, but she’s wrong. It’s obvious to me too. I don’t know what to do with it, though, and that scares the crap out of me.

  “I’m not trying to make you mad. You’re my best friend, and Trevor is a good friend. I want both of you happy. I love you,” Micah whispers, giving my arm a light squeeze before she turns and ducks her head. “Now, are we still up for a movie and … dessert?” She lifts the baggie full of brownies and spins around to wave them in front of my face. “You know you want to …”

  Relief that this conversation is over, and we can finally move on to something else races through me. I snatch the bag from her hands, feeling the muscles in my shoulder blades loosen. Anything sounds better than discussing this with her. “You’re on. What movie did you bring?”

  Micah grabs a DVD box out of her bag and tosses it in my direction. “Can’t Buy Me Love. Patrick Dempsey for the win.” I miss it, and the movie clatters to the floor. Micah scoops up the box. “Wow, Sabra. You truly have no athletic ability at all.”

  “No, I don’t. Although I was pretty flexible in the library on the fifth floor one day.” I laugh at the way Micah shimmies her hips and groans while walking to the DVD player to pop the movie in.

  “You’re gross.”

  “I know.” I snuggle into the couch and take a giant bite of brownie. “And Micah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you too.”

  She grabs a glass of wine, sits next to me, and lays her head on my shoulder. Taking a sip, she whispers, “I know. Now shut up, watch the movie, and eat your brownie.”

  “Micah.” I roll over on the couch so I’m lying flat on my stomach with my face turned toward my best friend. She’s curled on the floor under a blanket with only the top of her head peeking out. The movie credits roll across the television screen. I reach for her knee and give a small push. “Micah.” I’m trying to be quiet in case she’s asleep.

  “Oomph.” She barely moves her head in my direction. “Why are you yelling at me?”

  “I’m whispering. Are you awake?” I nudge her knee again. “I think I should call Trevor now.”

  “No, I’m not awake. And you are not whispering, Sabra.” Micah grabs the throw pillow next to her and tosses it at me. She misses and hits the end table. The lamp topples over, and the light bulb goes out, causing me to dissolve into giggles. The kind that never seem to want to stop.

  Those brownies were some strong stuff.

  “Go to sleep.” Micah rolls over onto her back and throws one arm over her eyes. The only light in the living room with the lamp out is the blue screen of the television and the little bit of glow coming from above the stove in the kitchen.

  “Nuh-uh. I can’t stop thinking about him.” I shove myself into a sitting position and stretch for my phone on the table next to me. “I’m going to call him.” Gravity is a bitch, and the room is spinning. I reach for it twice because the room, and my body, won’t behave.

  “What time is it?” She yanks the blanket she has tucked around her to her chin and glares at me. “Put your phone down. Wait until morning, you whacko.”

  “One o’clock. And I can’t,” I whine. “I haven’t talked to him in so long. He should know. I should tell him … things.” I try to stand. My body feels heavy and clumsy, and I fall back on the cushions again. “All the things.” My head flops on the back of the couch, and those damn giggles start back up. “Don’t you want to call him with me? I’m going to call him.” I roll my face back to where Micah is still snuggled on the floor. “Tonight.”

  “Whatever. You do you, girl. I’m going back to sleep.” She turns away from me. “Just remember in the morning”—she yawns— “I told you to wait.”

  I sit there for a few minutes staring at Trevor’s name on my phone and listen to Micah’s breathing get heavier and more evened out. I don’t care what she says. She doesn’t know. Trevor adores me. Micah said it herself. He’ll be thrilled to hear from me. I’m going to call him.

  Angling first one leg out in front of me and then the other, I push off the couch like a pregnant woman until my whole body is upright. It’s swaying, but I’m standing. I laugh some more and tiptoe down the hallway toward my bedroom, putting a hand on the wall to steady myself. If Micah could see me now, she’d be cackling her ass off. Wait. Micah can see me. I should go get her. What time is it again?

  My phone says 1:11 when I pull it up in front of my nose. I should make a wish.

  I wish Trevor would answer the phone and be happy to hear my voice and not upset because he’s on a date and I’m interrupting his sexy time.

  What if I’m interrupting his sexy time?

  I shut the door to my room and collapse face down on my bed with my phone in my hand. My thumb is doing a tap dance on the side of the case. There’s nothing to twirl on a phone.

  I’m about to drift off to sleep when I hear a deep voice say, “Hello? Sabra? Hello?”

  I look around my room in a panic and glance at the screen of my phone. Trevor. I called Trevor.

  Shit.
r />   “Sabra? This isn’t funny. Are you there?” I can hear the worry in his tone.

  “Hello?” I say, placing the phone against my ear. “Trevor?”

  “Sabra.” Relief colors his voice. “Are you okay? What time is it?”

  “I’m fine. Did I wake you? I’m sorry. My thumb hit your name on accident. And it’s 1:11. At least, it was last time I checked. I made a wish. Did you make a wish?”

  “You what? You made a wish?” His voice doesn’t sound as groggy now. It sounds deep and delicious and travels through me to all the right places.

  I snuggle into my covers and press the phone to my ear as if that will get me closer to him. “Yes. I made a wish.” I yawn in his ear. “I wished you weren’t having sexy times with that girl.”

  “Sexy times? What girl?” he chokes out. “Who are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know her name. Whatever girl you had a date with tonight. I didn’t want to interrupt your sexy times with her.” I clap my other hand over my eyes. “That’s not entirely true. I’m okay if I interrupt you.” I try to whisper this last part, but Micah said my whisper is broken. “You should kick her out.”

  “Kick her out of where, Sabra?” Trevor chuckles. His laughter rumbles right down to my toes and makes them curl. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Kick her out of your bed, of course. It’s rude for you to talk to me with another girl in your bed.” My eyes grow heavy, and the phone is hard to hold. “And a little. I had a glass of wine with Micah tonight. We had a girls’ night in.”

  “Sabra.” My name snaps across the line, making my eyes pop open. I like it when he’s bossy. “Let’s get a couple of things straight, even though I don’t think you’ll remember them in the morning.”

  “I’ll remember. I remember everything you’ve ever said, Trevor,” I mutter.

  “Then I need you to remember this. First, there is no other girl in my bed. There has been no other girl since you.” He waits while I process this information.