He twisted the cup in his hand, his thumb tracing the edge. “As well as can be expected, I guess.” He met my eyes. “Sorry I didn’t return your calls. It’s been pretty crazy.”
“Hey. I understand.” And I really did. More than most.
He nodded.
“Anything I can do?”
“Nah. I’ll be fine.”
God, I hoped so. Because the haunted, empty look in my friend’s eyes was downright scary. Would he ever get over the guilt for not feeling more over his brother’s death? I nodded and took in his totally lame vampire costume. The same one he’d worn for the past three years. “I see you’re as creative as ever with your costume choices.”
That made him smile. “Yeah, you, too.”
Hey, I may like zombies, but I always changed it up a little. Masks, makeup, blood, no blood, guts.
His eyes roamed the room and landed on Mel. “She looks good.”
I followed his gaze. “Yeah.”
We were silent for several minutes, sipping our drinks, me unsure what to say, Jonah probably not feeling up to saying anything at all. But he finally broke the silence. “So, Chloe dumped me.”
My gaze snapped to his. “What! When? Why?”
He smiled into his cup with a self-depreciating half-grin before taking a drink. “Tonight. When I got here. Seems chicks want your undivided attention 24/7 and she wasn’t getting mine, so she was over it.”
My mouth slacked open in shock. “But . . . but, your brother just died.” The heartless bitch.
“Yeah.”
Unconsciously, my eyes sought out Chloe. I finally found her blond head bobbing on the makeshift dance floor of her living room with about half a dozen guys flanking her in a grinding dirty dance.
I glanced back to Jonah. His eyes were studying his drink. If he’d seen her, he wasn’t giving anything away. “Why are you still here?”
His eyes snapped up to mine, the pain of a million wounds evident. “I was invited.”
I swallowed. My poor friend. He was martyring himself, trying to feel pain—any pain— since he couldn’t feel it where he thought he should.
Jonah did eventually get his fill of misery and left Chloe’s party. Then I was able to relax and try to enjoy the rest of the night. Melissa looked like she was enjoying herself, surrounded by a gaggle of girls, all giggly and rubbing on her belly. It was sad to me that she’d apparently not had any real, positive love and attention other than from me.
I smiled and winked and moved on to hang with some guys. God, it felt good to be somewhat normal again. Hanging with kids our own age. Minimal drama, other than the Jonah thing. Talking smack, sports, and even a little bullshit.
“Dude, you seen how big Joey’s gotten since last year?” Dean asked, pointing his beer can toward the school’s massive quarterback.
I glanced over. “Shit.” Joey had always been big, but he’d obviously been eating his Wheaties this summer.
“Shit’s right. I hear Texas A&M and even Alabama and Oregon have been in to scout him.” Dean sipped his drink. “Lucky prick.”
Aaron and Mike mumbled their agreement then moved on in search of more drinks that they didn’t need.
“Hey, you want anything?” Dean asked as I studied Joey with clearer eyes. I shook my head and he headed off behind our friends, leaving me alone. Yeah, Joey was lucky all right. But he was earning his way outta our small beach town. Could I do the same now that I’d have a kid to support? Would I ever see my way out of the movie theater popcorn bin and to the Engineering degree I wanted so bad I could taste it? Could Mel and I make it even so far as U of H or Rice University? I swallowed my doubt with a big chug of Pepsi.
I looked at my watch. We’d been there over two hours now. Mel was really hangin’ in . . .
“Hey, there. Great costume.”
I glanced up at the slurred words and swirl of perfume into Chloe’s glazed, heavily made-up eyes. I took in her skimpy gypsy costume that bared her pierced belly button, and was instantly taken back to Homecoming and Robin’s diamond stud in the same spot.
I swallowed. “Hey.”
She leaned in close, the liquor fumes wafting off her in waves. “You having fun?”
“Uh, sure.” I tried to casually step away, but she only stepped closer, her eyes on my lips. Alarm bells started sounding in my brain like a fire drill. Not only had the bitch dumped my best friend, she was drunk and quickly inching into my grill.
I took another step, but she had me practically pinned between a bookshelf and TV cabinet. Shit.
The music from the stereo began to pound out another dance beat, the bass rattling my chest and racing my heart for a gold medal.
“Reed?”
“Look, Chloe—” we spoke at the same time and she reached out and gripped my arms.
I glanced down at her pink fingernails wrapped around my forearms, her face leaning in, obviously hoping I’d kiss her. What the hell was up with this girl?
Calmly, I pried one of her hands away. “No.”
A pout scrunched her face. “Why not? You’ll nearly do it with my skanky cousin but you won’t even kiss me? You seemed to enjoy it the first time . . . What’s wrong with you?”
I reached for her other hand, which had tightened like a vise, ignoring her stinging words. “Chloe—”
“He said no, bitch.”
We both turned toward Mel’s thunderous face. She was practically vibrating with anger. I’d never seen her like this. She was like a warrior princess. And she was freakin’ glorious.
She took two steps forward until she was in Chloe’s face, her belly nearly bumping into her. “Get your hands off him.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open. When she didn’t comply, either from shock or drunkenness, Mel reached over and yanked her hand from my arm, gripping my hand and pulling me away with a pissily arched brow for Chloe. “Let me give you a word of advice, Chloe. Keep your slutty paws off other people’s men. It could get you your ass kicked.” She started to head away with me in tow, the room now totally silent, then stopped and tossed a snide glance over her shoulder. “You know, I forgave that stupid kiss on the boat. Gave you the benefit of the doubt because you didn’t know he was taken. But this? Not cool. Don’t let there be a next time, because pregnant or not, I won’t be so nice about it.”
October 26th Continued
Chloe Seymour is a W-H-O-R-E!
Chloe Seymour’s cousin in a W-H-O-R-E!
I knew we shouldn’t have gone to her stupid Halloween party. Everything started off fine. Chloe ignored us, but the other girls there were cool, nothing like the bitches at school who made fun of me. They asked about the baby and if we had a name picked out. (I’ve been thinking of a couple, but I haven’t talked to Reed about it yet.)
Then, the minute Reed isn’t in my line of sight, bam, the skanky bitch has her paws on my man, trying to freakin’ kiss him again. Is she for real?
The possessive, hormonal bitch in me came out like some kind of pregnant, girly Godzilla.
I would’ve so kicked her ass if I wasn’t pregnant.
Man Up, Soldier Boy
I loved this girl.
Freakin’ looooovvvvved her.
That was all I could think about as we left the party and slid into my car to head home.
I clenched my hands on the steering wheel as some mournful song murmured from the radio, the green dash lights illuminating her face. I concentrated on driving.
I felt her watching me. “Was that too much?”
“What?” I glanced over. “No. What do you mean?” I was just relieved she didn’t think I was doing anything with Chloe. We were fresh from all of our other misunderstandings and finding our footing again.
She bit her lip, her hand unconsciously rubbing over her belly mound. “Well, I’ve never had to get all psycho girlfriend like that before. It was weird.”
I reached over and grabbed her hand as we passed the boarded up Bennigan’s where we had our first “real” da
te. The dilapidated building with graffiti and loosely hanging shutters gave me a pang of nostalgia. “It wasn’t weird. And you weren’t psycho.” I grinned. “You were hot.”
Her eyes rounded. “What?”
I trained my eyes on the road. “Yeah. I’ve never had anyone stand up for my honor before. I kinda liked it.”
She slapped my thigh. “Shut up. I’m serious, Reed. I probably looked like the hormonal pregnant girl going all ghetto on her. But she looked like she was about to jump you right there. And . . . I dunno . . . I wanted to kill her.” She sighed. “Maybe it is the hormones.”
The memory of Chloe’s glossy lips and the liquor fumes oozing from her slammed into me. “No,” I said carefully. “I think I would’ve done the same thing.”
She processed this a moment then giggled.
“What?”
I glanced into her smiling eyes. “You would’ve told Chloe to get her slutty paws off of me?”
I grinned. “Absolutely. Nobody puts their paws on you but me, baby.”
The smile slid off her face and she turned away to face out the darkened window without a word.
“Mel?”
“Yeah?”
We drove another minute, past our Dairy Queen and the vet clinic where I’d learned who Lettie was. The memory was so bittersweet, I choked back a clump of emotion every time I drove by. But tonight, it was Mel’s emotions that were filling the car like a raincloud. “Everything okay?”
She nodded, silent.
I hated that our banter died a quick death, but I didn’t know what to say to resurrect it, so I drove on in silence until I reached her house. I tossed the gearshift into park and we sat in more accusatory silence, but I wasn’t sure what I was being accused of.
Finally, Mel turned to me. “See you Monday?”
I nodded. Obviously, she was dismissing me for the rest of the weekend. Got it.
She stretched over, brushing a kiss to my cheek, giving me one last whiff of her sweet, sweet, wildflower scent, as if to remind me of the girl I loved so much, before she ducked out into the endless night.
The party at Chloe’s was long, long forgotten that Monday night as I learned what a zoo the day before Halloween was at a movie theater. Especially for a newly promoted shift manager. Which was good, because I’d spent the last couple days missing Mel like a pathetic loser, with only a handful of texts to get me through until I saw her again.
“I didn’t want butter on my popcorn!” the grouchy grandpa grumbled, tossing his bucket my way with a snarl and a frown.
I glanced down at his very embarrassed looking grandkid and felt pity sluice through me. Poor kid. The briefest image of my dad taking my kid to the movies rushed through my brain and I didn’t know what to feel. Would that ever happen? I shook it off and reached for the full bucket. “I’m sorry, sir. My mistake.” Yeah, my mistake that I’d heard him say ‘extra butter.’ Whatever. But I dumped the popcorn in the trash with a smile and got him a fresh tub.
I zipped my way through the mile-long line of customers as fast as I could, even stealing several from a sleepy Aaron’s line.
I grinned when he grumbled under his breath at me at the Icee machine. “Sorry, dude. Shouldn’t have partied so much this weekend. Sucker.”
He shoulder-checked me and put his cup up to the cherry flavor. “Oops.” He peered at me from his left eye as he drew up the frozen drink. “So . . . Melissa is a preggo bad ass, huh?”
I shrugged, secretly proud as hell. “I guess.”
We both turned, but he mumbled under his breath, “Well, Chloe had it coming. She was acting like a slut.”
I stifled a laugh and rang up my customer.
“Young!”
My head snapped around at Mr. Ross’s bark, suddenly worried I’d been busted messing around with my buddy instead of working. “Sir?”
“Finish up that last customer then meet me in my office.” He strode away without waiting for me to acknowledge him.
I glanced at Aaron and his wide-eyed stare had ‘Oh, shit’ written all over it.
I finished my line, washed my hands, then walked what felt like the Green Mile to Mr. Ross’s office. This time the door was closed so I knocked, and at a terse call, I opened the squeaky door. And stopped in my tracks.
Mr. Ross had his feet propped on his desk, his face totally relaxed in an uncharacteristic grin with the phone pressed to his ear. When he spotted me, he waved me in, the smile never wavering from his face. He indicated for me to shut the door, so I did and sank into the chair across from him, still in awe at this jovial version of my boss. Um, where was the real Mr. Ross? This was kinda freaky.
“I know, baby,” he said, his grin nearly splitting his face in two. “Your mother and I are so proud of you. It’s gonna be great.” His eyes briefly flitted to mine. “It’ll be awesome.” He slapped his feet back to the ground, his head tilted as he continued to listen. “I know. Listen, doll, I gotta go. I’ll call you later. Okay. Bye, baby. I love you.” He listened a moment longer, his face softening visibly before he hung up, his hand pausing over the phone before he met my gaze again.
“My daughter,” he said. “Meghan.”
I nodded.
“She’s getting ready to go off to college and she’s excited, but she’s also a nervous wreck.” He smiled again, pensively this time. “Pre-med. I can hardly believe it. My little girl. A doctor.” He shook his head.
“Wow,” I said. “You must be so proud.” I only wished I saw an ounce of that in my father’s eyes anymore. But it was gone. Like a puff of smoke; a shooting star. I’d glimpsed it once, but it was an elusive memory. I wondered if there was any way to get it back.
He cleared his throat. “I am. We are.” He pointed out the family photo I’d noticed my first time in his office. “My wife is having a lot of trouble letting go.” His grin doubled, if possible. “So I’m taking her on a surprise second honeymoon to Barbados.”
“That’s nice.”
He studied me a moment. “You know, Reed . . .”
My head shot up. He’d never called me by my first name.
“I understand exactly the position you’re in. Been there myself. And you might think I’m just an old man with kids your age. Maybe I am. But time passes in the blink of an eye, Son, and it won’t be that long until you’re in my shoes with a kid going off to college, and a wife wondering if she’s old, wondering where the hell your life’s gone.” His eyes lingered on his family photo. “And if I can offer you any advice? Don’t waste time wondering ‘what if?’ What’s done is done, know what I mean?”
I nodded dumbly.
“Good. Just take the bull by the horns. That’s how to do it, kid. Love your girl. Make it work if you can. Love your kid. Do the best you can. Be a man.”
“How?” I asked in a croak, realizing this man sitting across from me probably didn’t grow up wanting to manage a movie theater, but he’d made a life for himself. And he was happy. An honorable man, who I’d misjudged.
But was his life a glimpse into my own future?
He clasped his hands and leaned forward on his desk, capturing me with his eyes. “Son, that’s a day to day battle. Just keep fighting it.”
I ducked my eyes. “Yes, sir. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. Just do right by your baby and don’t shirk your responsibilities like I’ve seen half of the punks I hire do, and we’ll be fine.”
I bit back a relieved smile. He had no worries there. “Okay.”
“Now,” he said, his voice back to business, “I appreciate you working hard since I made you shift manager.”
“Oh, thanks . . .”
“And I know you’re supposed to be off tomorrow, but I need you to work two ‘til eight, and man the projector. I’ve got it covered until you get outta school, but Jose called in. His mom died.”
So that’s why he’d called me into his office.
I nodded automatically. I’d never turned him down. “Sure . . .” Shit. Mel’s app
ointment.
“Good.” He stood and brushed some crumbs from his pants. “I’ve gotta get. I’m meeting my wife for dinner.” He tossed me a smile, grabbed his keys and slid out the door. He turned to me one last time. “Don’t forget what I said, Young, and you’ll do fine. I promise.”
I sighed.
Somehow, I didn’t think I was off to a good start.
October 30th
Thank God I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. This is the worst I’ve felt and I’m really scared. I hope he can give me some medicine or something. I’m puffy, my head hurts, my chest is even starting to hurt just under my right boob—like massive indigestion or something. Ick.
Chris must’ve sensed something was up, he tried really hard all night to make me laugh, but I’m just not up to it. I didn’t feel like calling Roxanne either.
I don’t even have the energy to worry or obsess about my mistakes today.
I need to go to bed early. (Yawn.)
I just wish Reed was here. He always makes me feel better.
Promises
Mel’s phone had been rolling straight to voicemail since yesterday. I contritely told her that I had to work late last night and on my day off today, so I wouldn’t be able to see her and I would miss the doctor’s appointment. That I’d promised to make. And I was really, really sorry.
I watched the clock in the dark projection booth tick by the minutes as the movie credits rolled, wondering how pissed she was. Why hadn’t she answered? Should I worry?
Half an hour later, I finally got her first text.
Mom can take me . . . dont worry about it
My fingers flew over the keys.
Text me when u done. Luv u
No return text, no call, no ‘I love you.’ I was not reassured. I tried calling her again. No answer.
An hour later, I checked my phone. Still nothing. Was she that pissed? I debated texting again, but decided that was too much of a chick thing to do and shoved my phone back in my pocket as my thoughts drifted back to my conversation with Mr. Ross.
Two Blue Lines (Crossing The Line #1) Page 15