I Don't: A Romantic Comedy

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I Don't: A Romantic Comedy Page 4

by Andrea Johnston


  “May not?”

  “God, Lucas, you ask a lot of questions. Yes, may not. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Huh.”

  “Huh, what?”

  Shrugging, Lucas stands from the chair and takes a few steps before turning back to me.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You. Whitney Wheeler.” His tone is a cross between flabbergasted and annoyed as he waves his hand toward me almost dismissively. “The smartest and fiercest girl I knew is letting someone hurt her when she knows she deserves better.”

  “Oh please. I was far from fierce. I’m just me, Lucas. Trenton and I have been together a long time. I love our life together. It’s a good life. Yeah, he screwed up, and I want to nut punch him, but I can’t throw everything away without giving it some thought.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do? Give it thought?”

  I shrug. How do I answer that? I have no plan. So far, my only plan has been to not leave this hotel with a bad hangover. And still being able to fit in my dress next weekend.

  “I don’t want to talk about me anymore. Tell me about you. Your dancing. Med school.”

  Resuming his seat on the lounger next to me, he accepts my request to change the subject and begins telling me about medical school. Dear God, I knew it was expensive, but I had no idea how expensive. Fifteen-year-old me is so proud of the man sitting across from me. He’s no longer the boy I thought would kiss me into a puddle but the man I know is going to do great things in medicine.

  “That’s why I have to supplement the dancing. While it’s great money, it still isn’t enough.”

  “Supplement how? Like another job? Isn’t that hard with your schedule?”

  “Yeah, but I do transport.”

  “What? Like teleporting? What the fuck is ‘do transport’?” I ask, using air quotes.

  “Not teleporting, weirdo.” I shrug. What the hell do I know about teleporting or transporting? “Transport. I transport merchandise from one seller to another.”

  “Like drugs?” It slips out before I can even stop myself.

  “Not drugs. What do you take me for? A trafficker? No like cars, boats, ATVs, and even pets. That’s what I’m doing tomorrow. I’m driving a pair of puppies to a family in Washington.”

  “Puppies!” I shout before slamming my hand on my mouth. “Puppies?” I repeat in a whisper.

  “Yep. I’ll pick up the pups tomorrow afternoon from the breeder and then drive them to Washington. The new owners will accept them, and I’ll turn around and come back.”

  “Wow. That’s kind of cool. And puppies are the best. I’ve wanted a dog for a long time, but Trenton is opposed to it.”

  “Come with me.”

  I look at him confused. Clearly, he’s drunk.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Come with me. It’ll give you time to think or whatever you’re doing, and I could use the company. I can only talk to the puppies so much before I officially lose my mind.”

  “That’s a very random invitation, but I think I’ll have to pass. Mostly because that’s insane.”

  “Offer stands. Maybe we should head back inside? I’m surprised Jessi hasn’t come looking for you yet.”

  “Oh, she probably has. She’s the same as she was in high school. Nosy as hell and up my ass all the time.”

  “But you love her.”

  “Duh, she’s my best friend. I could do without her hovering this weekend, but I love her for it, just the same.”

  As we stand and begin walking toward the doors to the hotel, the comfortable silence falls between us and for a moment I wish I was the risk-taker who could say “fuck it” and hop in the passenger seat of Lucas’s car and take the road trip with him. I wish I was the girl who took risks. I’m not. I’m the girl who is probably going to forgive her cheating fiancé and have the wedding of her dreams in seven days.

  By the time we make it back to my room, I’m yawning, and Lucas is rolling his neck and shaking his arms out like he’s trying to wake himself up. I hover my key card in front of the door, and when the green light indicates the door is unlocked, I take in a deep breath. Heaven knows what we’re about to walk into. Gazing at Lucas over my shoulder, he must have the same thought because he takes a deep breath and nods for me to open the door.

  To my surprise, there aren’t any hookups happening. In fact, Jen and Courtney are settled under their covers with Tom lounging on my bed, tapping away on his phone. Jessi and Jonah are sitting on the couch, talking and laughing.

  The moment the door shuts behind us, all five sets of eyes turn our direction. A smirk skirts Tom’s face while Jessi raises a single eyebrow at me. I know that look. The third degree is coming as soon as these guys are gone.

  “Thank fuck, man. I’ve got to get home. I’m due at the restaurant early tomorrow and you’re my ride.” Tom stands and tucks his phone in his pocket.

  “Sorry, we were out by the pool talking,” I apologize to the group.

  “No worries, girl. I have to get going or I’ll be a walking zombie for the breakfast rush. Ladies,” Tom says, turning toward the girls, “it has been a pleasure. Next time you’re at the club, ask for me. First drink’s on me.”

  Everyone begins saying their goodbyes as Jonah sits up and slips his feet in his shoes. I wonder briefly if Jessi and Jonah hit it off, but when he pinches her nose like a grandpa does to a small child, I know even if they did it’s a no go for her. Nose taps, chin pinches, and forehead kisses are romance killers for my best friend. While I, on the other hand, relish in each gesture. A forehead kiss is my undoing.

  “Jessi, it was great officially meeting you,” Jonah says as he opens the door.

  “You too. See you in class.”

  I look at them questioning and they both laugh. “Turns out Jonah is in my torts class. Who knew?”

  Small world.

  “Okay, I’m out of here. Give me your phone,” Lucas demands with his hand extended. I realize I never got my phone back from Jessi. Looking at her, she picks it up from the side table and tosses it my way. Lucas catches it and slides his finger across the screen before he begins tapping and a chime fills the air.

  “I put my number in your phone and sent myself a text. If you change your mind about this week, shoot me a text and I’ll swing by and pick you up. I’m planning to get on the road early, around seven. I’d like to get in a solid ten hours on the road day one.”

  “Thanks again, but still a weird invitation.”

  “Think about it, okay?” Lucas asks as he bends his knees to look me in the eyes. Sincerity and kindness look back at me. My friend from so many years ago is before me, and I feel a little overwhelmed with how comfortable I feel. Not trusting my voice, I offer a quick nod in response as I step out of the close bubble he’s created and grab a bottle of water from the bar area.

  Once the guys are gone, I walk into the bathroom and begin removing my makeup. Maybe if I take my time, the girls will fall asleep and I’ll get out of explaining my long “walk” with Lucas. Jen and Courtney have no idea how devastated I was by Lucas as a teenager, but I’m sure their curiosity is through the roof. Jessi, however, is aware of the broken heart I suffered at, what I fear, my own hand.

  As I’m brushing my teeth, I contemplate making up a story about how I jumped Lucas poolside and now the cheating is even, and we can put this all behind us. Only, my friends know me better than that and would know before I finished the story it was a lie. Spitting in the sink, I scoop some water in my hands to rinse as I hear Jessi shout from the other room.

  “Don’t think you can stall forever. We aren’t that tired.”

  Dammit. I open the bathroom door and flip the light switch before walking into the room.

  “Come on now, climb in and give us the deets.” Jessi pats the spot in bed next to her and I grant the girls their wish without a fight. I recount the walk, the talk, and the offer from Lucas. Each of my fr
iends stare at me with wide eyes and huge smiles as the story progresses.

  “I hate to say it . . .”

  “You don’t ever hate saying it, so just do it,” I implore her.

  “I told you so. Lucas DeCosta was a good guy then and is a good guy now. Unlike dick sucker.”

  “I think it would be he who gets his dick sucked,” I correct her.

  “The fact that you can mock what happened yesterday proves my point.” Jessi sits up and faces me crisscross applesauce before continuing, “Trenton is a piece of shit, and you don’t want to marry him. Look, I know you have this idea that your life needs to be perfect, and he checks most of the boxes on your fictitious list. You and I both know he isn’t the one you should be with.”

  “Your point is taken under advisement. But what does that have to do with Lucas? Do you think he’s the one I should be with? The guy I haven’t seen since high school and who gyrated his way across a stage practically naked?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “There are worst things than ending up with a guy who looks like that. And if he can move like that on stage, imagine what he’s like in bed. Hot damn.”

  “You’re crazy, and we all know I can’t go on a week-long road trip with him. That is insane.”

  “Eh, you say insane, and I say fate. Nobody said you have to bang the dude. Just keep him company while he drives up the coast to Washington State. Ask him to stop in Portland on the way back. It’s on your must-travel-to bucket list. The list you’ve never touched because . . . wait, have you even been out of the state of California?”

  “Yes!” I shout. “We went to Vegas, remember?”

  “That doesn’t count. That’s like California extended. I say go. Girls?”

  “Agreed,” Courtney and Jen say in unison.

  “You guys are nuts.”

  I don’t offer any further response and instead snuggle into the bed, pull the covers up to my chin, and flip the lamp off. I embrace the darkness of the room as I listen to the girls shuffle and settle into bed. I stare at the ceiling, searching for answers and guidance. Not that I think either exist on the ceiling of a hotel room. I only know I’m exhausted, both emotionally and physically. As much as I want to turn my brain off and end this day, I know sleep isn’t going to come easily.

  Do I even want it to?

  Sleep will bring morning and tomorrow I’ll need to face my life. My family, my fiancé, and my future. The three big “f”s that can “f” right off. The room is quiet but for the sounds of the girls sleeping when my phone vibrates on the table. Slipping out of bed, I pad to the table and pick up my phone. There are three text messages.

  The first is number fifty from Trenton. I hit delete like I did the other forty-nine before, pulling up the next message. This message makes me smile when I tap on the name I didn’t enter and begin reading.

  Sorry Bastard: Stop overthinking it. We’ll have fun.

  Sorry Bastard: It’s PUPPIES, Whit. Puppies.

  Smiling, I don’t allow myself the time to contemplate a response. I type the first thing that comes to mind.

  Me: I do love puppies.

  I don’t wait to see what Lucas’s response is. I already know it’s going to be something about the trip. The trip a part of me wants to go on while the other is fighting the idea. And losing. Setting my phone down, I quietly shuffle back to bed and climb in. Just as my head hits the pillow I startle when Jessi speaks.

  “You’re going.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  No response is needed as I turn on my side and will the sandman to do his thing. Sleep will bring clarity in the form of a new day. Or it’ll bring more chaos to my life.

  Whispers draw me from the light sleep I’m enjoying, and I know the topic of conversation is likely Lucas’s invitation to road trip. Maybe if I lie here and don’t speak, don’t move, hell, don’t breathe, they’ll forget I’m here. It isn’t that I want to avoid my friends, but I would love to avoid the topic of conversation.

  The bed shakes a little. Then a little more. The aroma of fresh coffee fills the room and envelopes me like a close friend, and it’s enough for me to slowly open one eye. Before me is a white cup with a green logo swaying from side to side.

  “You know you want it.”

  Courtney’s right. I do. Sleep will have to wait. It isn’t like I have a ton more to do this week other than contemplate my future. Sleeping away the days and avoiding my life seems like a solid plan. Shifting my body, I roll myself into a sitting position and tighten the messy bun on top of my head before holding both hands out in front of me to accept the gift of java.

  Once I have the cup in my hand, I pop the lid and peek to make sure it’s the perfect shade of mocha before smiling and replacing the lid. I look at Courtney, who rolls her eyes before saying, “I know how you like your coffee, don’t be so surprised.”

  I take my first sip and chat with Courtney a little about her plans for the day and my plans to sleep for a week when Jessi comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body as she dries her hair with another.

  “You’re not sleeping the week away. Mostly because you’ll be in a car, and you don’t sleep well in cars.”

  “Jess, I am not going on the trip. I need to deal with my life.”

  Rolling her eyes, Jessi goes about pulling out clothes from her bag on the floor. Once she’s fully clothed and her hair is wrapped in a towel, she turns her attention back to me. “Whitney, I think you should do it. I know you’re on the fence with what you’re going to do. While we,” she says, waving her hand around the room before continuing, “would like to have a dick-a-cue with Trenton’s teeny weeny. I get that you’re a much better person than the rest of us.”

  “Dick-a-cue?”

  “Yeah, toss his shrimp on the barbie and all that. Anyway, like I was saying, I think some time away will be good not only for you but for whatever decision you make. If you choose to go forward with this wedding, then Trenton could sweat it out a little. Win win in my book.”

  I suppose she has a point. As I continue sipping the scorching coffee, which doesn’t seem to be cooling at all, I contemplate what ramifications indulging in a little impromptu road trip would bring. My mother would probably cry a little but would support my decision and ask for my wedding book to follow the plan to a “T”. My dad would probably offer to pay for all the gas if it means there’s a chance marrying Trenton is off the table. Yeah, my dad isn’t exactly the leader of Team Marry Trenton.

  Likewise, I don’t believe for one hot second my future mother-in-law is cheerleading for a happily ever after that includes her precious baby and me. I’m not being dramatic; she told me she’d rather not have to pretend she likes me unless there are grandchildren promised. And yet, here I am, wearing a ring that tells the world I promise to be around for a long time, forever actually, and I know it kills her.

  I wish my gran were alive to tell me what to do. Why couldn’t she have added a section to her perfect wedding blinder with pointers on what to do when the option of not going through with the wedding is on the table? With a heavy sigh, Jessi flops herself on the bed next to me, and I’m grateful there’s a lid on my cup when my arm flies out to the side.

  “Dude, seriously?”

  “How about a compromise? You go with Lucas today and when you guys hit the first overnight stop, call me. If you aren’t having fun, I’ll either come get you or buy the plane ticket for you to come home. If you decide to stick it out the three of us will hold down the fort here and make sure everything is ready for next weekend, regardless of what you decide.”

  Tilting my head as I absorb what she says, I can’t think of a single reason to say no. I’m angry and hurt, so seeing Trenton anytime soon is off the table. Catching up with Lucas and playing with puppies sounds like a much better plan. Besides, it’s not like I’m making a lifetime commitment. It’s a few days.

  “Promise to keep the pre-wedding work going?”


  “Cross our hearts. Right girls?”

  Nods from them all has me grinning from ear to ear. When Jessi thrusts my phone toward me, I look down and without a second thought set my coffee down on the end table, take the phone from her hand, and tap out a text.

  Me: What time do we leave?

  Sorry Bastard: I’m just pulling in the parking lot.

  Me: Pretty confident, huh?

  Sorry Bastard: Nah, just hopeful. Meet you in the lobby.

  Me: 20 min.

  I guess it’s time for a road trip.

  The problem with an impromptu road trip is that . . . who am I kidding? There are a million problems with doing most things on the fly. In this case, it means my wardrobe consists of very little and what I do have with me screams “girls night out.” Standing next to the bed with my clothes strewn everywhere, I scrunch my face in thought. How am I going to make this work? I could wear my yoga pants every day. Turn my panties inside out to get extra wear out of them.

  “Or you could just ask Lucas to stop at the store and buy a few essentials. Here,” Jessi says tossing a pair of leggings and a tunic my way. “Go get dressed. We’ll sort you out here, and I’ll text you what you need to grab at the store. It’s going to be fine. It’s a road trip for goodness sake. Leggings and T-shirts are all you need. Except clean panties. That’s a must.

  Without further hesitation, I grab the offered clothes and scoot to the bathroom. I have enough time for a shower but not to wash my hair. Thankfully, it’s only day two hair piled on my head and dry shampoo is a thing. Flipping the handle on the shower, I shed my clothes as the room fills with steam. I know there isn’t time to dawdle, but I refuse to not allow myself a minute below the scalding water. The heat and thumping of the massage shower head feel amazing on my tense shoulders. After the single minute—okay, two—I quickly finish up my shower. Sliding the shower curtain, I look up to catch my reflection in the steamed mirror.

 

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