The Way to Game the Walk of Shame (26 page)

Brian gave me a half smile and tapped his temple with his index finger. His left dimple appeared. “I figured. I’m not the smartest person in school for nothing, you know.”

Feeling awful, I pushed my green ottoman toward him. “So are you going to sit down or what?”

“Well, with an invitation like that, how can I refuse?” Instead of sitting, though, he straddled it. His feet kicked at the carpet while his finger poked at the torn hole in his faded jeans.

Twiddling my thumbs, I said the first thing that came to mind. “I’ve never seen you in old jeans before.”

He looked down as though he had forgotten what he was wearing. “Yeah, it’s been a while. I forgot how comfortable they were.”

“Why didn’t you ever wear them before?” Were we seriously discussing his clothes choices? Out of everything else we could have talked about, why did I—

“Because of you.”

“What?”

Brian shrugged. A light blush was on his high cheekbones. “Carly told me before that you liked guys who dressed up so … you know.” He gestured toward his jeans.

I blinked at him. That was the one answer I wasn’t expecting, but it was the sweetest, most perfect answer. There really was no other way to describe him. “Oh … sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was kind of a stupid plan.” He shifted from side to side and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Although can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

His blue-striped feet knocked against the bottom of the ottoman. “Could we forget about the other day and just go back to being friends?”

My heart wrenched. Again. But I couldn’t help the relief that swept through me. I wasn’t going to lose him as a friend after all.

Unable to help myself, I got up and wrapped my arms around him for a tight hug. His arms instantly came down around me. It was warm and comforting, like a bowl of soup when you’re sick. Or your thickest favorite sweatshirt when it’s cold outside. He squeezed tightly once before pushing me away.

Brian cleared his throat and shook his head. His black bangs fell into his face, covering his eyes. He still needed a haircut. “I stopped by your physics class to pick up your missed classwork, and it turns out you didn’t miss a single thing. It was his son’s birthday, so he had a party in his class. All day.” He laughed loudly. “I was a fool not to take that class.”

Taking the hint, I smiled and sat back on the sofa. “But you needed that biology class to get into the premed program at Tulane. You could still change your mind about that, you know.”

“I think we both know that Tulane and med school afterward are NOT going to happen. Poring over books all night long and cutting into cadavers the first year? No, thank you.”

“I didn’t think so.”

We continued talking about our classes as if the past two days hadn’t happened, then he had to leave for a biology quiz. It was nice to have my friend back. Even if it was only for just a little bit.

24

-Evan-

My mind was still stuck on Taylor when I pulled into the garage that afternoon. Her face. The way she hadn’t even looked at me when she mumbled goodbye and ran into her house after the aquarium. And then she didn’t come to school for the next two days. Something else was wrong. Something more than just Columbia. It killed me that I didn’t know what it was. That she didn’t trust me enough to tell me. And that I couldn’t fix it for her.

I grabbed a Coke from the fridge and headed toward the stairs when something in the corner of the dark living room moved. The hairs on my neck stood up. I was always the first person home. Every day.

I grabbed the closest thing at hand—Mom’s blue-and-yellow flowered umbrella—and I crept into the room. Then I used my elbow to flick on the light and leapt forward. My right hand waved the umbrella in the air like a sword or a lightsaber.

Mom shrank back on the couch. Her wide eyes stared at me while both hands clutched at her chest. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, hi.” I dropped my arm and coughed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there. I’ll just—let me put this back.” I shoved the umbrella back in its wooden stand. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Her hands fell to the cushions on either side of her. She looked around the room as though she didn’t know herself. “I was just thinking about stuff while I waited for you.”

“For me?”

I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. Instead, she reached out to organize the magazines and glass coasters on the table. They were the kind that you could put a picture in. There were some with Mom and me and some with Mom and Brandon. None of us all together. There was no point in forcing the
family
label on us when we weren’t one.

“I want you to understand how glad I was that Brandon came into our lives. He’s not perfect, but life with him is. He’s reliable, and he takes care of us. And he puts me first. He makes my life easy. And the only way I can repay him is to make him happy. Even if that means cutting your dad out of our lives.” Mom smoothed the wrinkles in her pants before standing up and pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. “But that wasn’t my decision to make. It should have been yours. So here.”

The yellow sheet was barely three inches wide and had a long, ragged tear on one side. Some numbers were scribbled on it, squished together. A bank account? “What’s this?”

“That’s your dad’s phone number.”

Bam!
And just like that, I slumped down on the arm of the seat across from her. It slid back a few inches on the hardwood floor. I clenched the paper so hard, it crumpled in my hand. “I thought you didn’t want me to contact him.”

“I didn’t. I still don’t.” Mom crossed her arms and looked away. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I just don’t want you to hate me for it later on. And you’re right. It’s your choice whether you want to see him or not.”

Her sad tone nearly killed me. Judging by the circles under her eyes, this had been bothering her for a while. And the slight indention in the couch cushion that refused to go away showed that she had been waiting for me for a
pretty
long time.

I was a shitty example of a son. The worst ever.

“Mom.” I stood up when she headed toward the kitchen. She stopped, and her shoulders stiffened. I swallowed and shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “If you never gave me his number, I wouldn’t blame you. Yeah, I was a little pissed for a while, but I wouldn’t hate you. I can’t.”

Mom finally turned around. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but I wasn’t too worried. She cried over everything. Once she cried because the neighbor’s dog died. And she hated that thing, said it barked at her every time she came home. That didn’t stop her from crying for an hour when it got run over, though.

Besides, the broad smile on her face as she walked toward me was a big indication that everything was better now.

She had to tiptoe to kiss my cheek, something she hadn’t done in years. I hadn’t noticed how small she was now. Or how much taller than her I was. “Just go do what you have to do. I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready.”

I nodded. Now that the crisis was averted, I barely even noticed when she left the room. My eyes were glued to the numbers in my hand. Ten digits. Something small and simple that kindergarteners were learning. Yet now it seemed like the most important thing in the world to me.

My footsteps thundered up the stairs as I raced to my room. I dropped my bag and paced. Back and forth. Should I call now? Maybe I should wait. Florida was in the same time zone as North Carolina (or at least close enough), so he was probably getting ready to eat dinner, too. Now might not be the most convenient time to call.

But when
was
a good time to call and say, “Hey, Dad. Remember me? Your son that you haven’t talked to in years? It wasn’t either of our choices, though. So what’s up?”

What was I going to say to him?

As I stared at the little piece of paper, I could hear Taylor’s voice in my head. And not in a very good way. Okay, she was yelling at me to stop being a wuss and just dial the damn number. And she was right.

Still, my hands shook as I punched in the numbers. I could feel myself getting sick from the clenching and twisting of my stomach. That feeling grew with each ring.

“Hello?”

There it was. The voice I hadn’t heard in over four years.

And just like that, my nervousness disappeared. Like nothing had ever happened. I was eleven again, waiting for him to come home from work so we could go to the aquarium.

“Hi, Dad.”

25

-Evan-

As I drove to Taylor’s house, I replayed my conversation with Dad over and over in my head. And his offer to move in with him after graduation. He had a spare bedroom at his rental, and Troy University was nearby. It even had a good marine-biology program, one that I actually got into because of Taylor. To be honest, I had just filled out the paperwork to get her off my back. I didn’t really expect to get in. But now … now everything was falling into place. It was perfect.

Even though I was dying to get away from Brandon, I still didn’t know how I could be away from Mom. She didn’t want me to go, but I had to do this for her. She wouldn’t have to be between Brandon and me anymore. She could finally be happy.

While Mom updated Brandon on the situation—I’ll bet he was breaking out the good wine to celebrate—I raced over to Taylor’s house. I wanted to tell her about Dad. I wanted to tell her about the university acceptance. I needed to tell her everything.

In my excitement, I didn’t remember about Mr. Simmons until I had already rung the doorbell.
Shit.
I wondered if there was still enough time to hide.

The door opened just as I was about to dive behind the rosebushes. Thank god Taylor was the one who opened it. “Evan? What are you doing here?”

She looked beautiful. I had to physically stop myself from hugging her. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Is the coast clear?”

“Uh, yeah, Dad’s out with some friends. And Mom’s on the phone with my grandma in the kitchen.” She looked around for a few seconds before stepping back. “Do you want to come in?”

I still didn’t move. “Are you sure your mom won’t mind?”

“Doesn’t matter. She’d probably let you in herself, anyway,” Taylor muttered under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.” She took my arm and pulled me inside. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something, too. Let me just tell Mom that you’re here first.”

“Okay.” I went into the living room to wait for her. Oreo was already lying on the rug, and he let out an excited bark when he spotted me. He didn’t get up, but he did roll over so I could scratch him. I stood and rubbed his belly with my foot.

As I waited for Taylor to come back, I picked up a pink daisy that was sitting on the coffee table. It was lying on top of a couple of calculus worksheets with today’s date on them. That seemed weird. Taylor hadn’t gone to school today—how did she get the assignment already?

Taylor came into the room just as I picked up one of the sheets. “Did Carly drop these off for you?”

“Uh, no, not really.” My eyes took in every detail of her. She looked tired but still beautiful, with her dark hair pulled back from her face. She sat down next to me. Not as close as I would have liked, but it was probably better this way. I didn’t want to get another ass kicking from her dad. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

My leg bounced up and down, already anticipating the excitement my announcement would get from Taylor. Oreo flopped back and forth at the frantic movement. “Why don’t you go first? My news is really important, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to blow yours out of the water.”

She gave me a half smile. “I don’t know about that. I have some big news, too.”

“Is it good news?”

Her smile faded a tiny bit, and her eyes flickered to the flower in my hand. “Not
all
of it.”

I looked from the pink daisy to the calculus work on the coffee table. Something clicked in my mind, and I could feel my good mood fading. Damn. Dad and college blended to the background as I stared at her, hoping I was wrong. “Who brought you this homework?”

Taylor swallowed loudly before answering. “Brian. He came over this morning.”

“And the flower?”

This time she didn’t answer. She just nodded.

Brian was here. She didn’t call me or text me, but he came over. Here, alone. So much for me being the only guy to visit this house. Although he probably got a real invitation from her. Which meant …

I dropped the flower on the coffee table. My hands clenched together as I leaned back onto the couch, moving away from Taylor now. Already distancing myself from what I knew was coming. “Does your news have something to do with him?”

“Yes.” She sucked in a deep breath before continuing. Her fingers gripped the pillow on the sofa between us. The words poured out of her like a waterfall. “The other day, before you took me to the aquarium, Brian told me he liked me, and then we kissed. I’m sorry. It was totally unexpected and I didn’t know what to do. I never thought he felt that way—”

I barely heard the rest of her story. Only a few words stuck in my mind.
Other day. Brian liked her. And then they kissed.

That wasn’t really a surprise. I’d watched them hang out together. Each time she smiled at him. Every time he looked at her. Brian was Mr. Perfect. Just like Taylor was Ms. Perfect. Literally. Those were the class titles they had won, along with Most Likely to Succeed. They belonged together. All I’d won was the Class Troublemaker title. And Most Attractive. Brian probably couldn’t wait to march over and introduce himself to Mr. Simmons as the new boyfriend. The ass.

Even though I had been expecting it, the pain still hit me like a crashing wave. You can see it coming. You can even prepare yourself for the impact, but it can still flip you over on your board. The shock of the cold and the sting of the salt in your sinuses. Over and over again. The thought of Taylor and Brian officially
being
together made me sick. “You know what? I have to go.”