“That’s he’s an idiot,” I mutter. I sigh when Jacqui rolls her eyes at me. “Alright, alright, I get it. I just can’t…” I look at her, grimacing. “Do you really think they’ll murder Jesse?”
Jacqui sighs. “Tell me, Allison. You’re so hung up on this, even though you must know, logically, that they would never do it. So why do you believe so easily that Kyle would orchestrate Jesse’s murder? Is it because you’re frightened you don’t know him? Or is it because he’s in a motorcycle club?”
“I’m not discriminating against him because he’s in a club!” I say, horrified at the thought.
“Yeah?” Jacqui challenges. “What if I say to you, right now, that I want to send some of my friends to find Jesse, and that I don’t care what they do to him? I could do it, too, and you know how rough some of my friends are.”
I look at her. Her eyes are serious. She really could do it, and, it seems, has thought about doing it before.
“It’s…different,” I say, faltering.
“What is it that is different?” Jacqui presses.
I don’t know why it’s different. My stomach drops. Is Jacqui right? Am I finding it so much easier to believe because Kyle’s in a motorcycle club?
Jacqui shakes her head.
“Just talk to Kyle,” she says. “If you guys decide it won’t work out from there, then fine. But don’t just cut him cold when you haven’t even given him a chance.”
“But…” I try.
“Allison.” Jacqui turns to face me and puts her hands on my shoulders. “Is this about Jesse? Are you scared to trust Kyle because of what happened with Jesse?”
I say nothing. She hit the nail on the head. Jacqui sighs.
“Okay,” she says, nodding. “I think I understand a little more. This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to take Kyle on a date.”
“What?” I ask, shocked.
“And on this date, the two of you are going to talk,” Jacqui says. “Hear me? You need to get things out into the open. And you need to learn more about each other. You can decide what you want to do then.”
&
nbsp; I inhale deeply and let it out slowly. She’s right. I nod to myself. After college, I decide, I’ll track Kyle down and talk to him. It won’t be hard, after all.
I’ll probably find him right outside my apartment.
I hear the roar of Kyle’s motorbike as I get off the bus. He’s a tad early this afternoon, since it’s only four. I draw in a deep breath for courage and walk down the street, setting my shoulders. I can do this. I owe it to both Kyle and myself to do something about this stalemate that I pushed us into. I’ll talk to him and get some answers.
And then I’ll decide what to do next.
Surprisingly, I don’t see Kyle anywhere when I approach the apartment. I know he’s definitely here, because I heard him arrive, but for once, he’s managed to hide himself somewhere that I can’t see him. There’s very few places he can be, though; he’s so tall and broad that the alleys are the only real place he can go.
But I’m not here to play a game of hide and seek. Knowing that he’s probably watching me, I snatch my phone out of my pocket and send a message.
“Come and talk to me.”
I hear a phone chime with an incoming message somewhere to the left, but I don’t look, waiting. Finally, I hear shuffling footsteps and Kyle comes into view, looking sheepish.
“How did you know I was here?” he asks.
“You’re the worst spy in the world,” I inform him.
I look him over. He has bags under his eyes, which proves that he’s barely been sleeping the last few days, too busy watching over me to make sure Jesse doesn’t get to me. I sigh. It’s harder to be angry with him when I can see the proof of him running himself ragged for my sake.
“Were you serious?” I ask him abruptly.
I see him hesitate. I wound up kicking him out of my apartment last time he answered this question. But I’m calmer today, and I’ve promised myself that I won’t jump to conclusions until I hear him out.