“Oh, I’m pretty sure she’ll never want to see me again after some of the things I said.”
Kye let out a low whistle. “That bad?”
“It wasn’t pretty.” My chest constricted remembering the hurt in her expression, the look of absolute betrayal.
“It’s for the best.” Nix nodded, his eyes full of understanding and regret.
“I can’t believe she came for you,” Kye said in half-disbelief, half-awe. “That’s pretty epic. She’s so… and you’re so…”
“Fuck off, asshole. And I’m done talking about this, so drop it.”
It had been one of the shittiest days of my life. All I wanted was to drown my sorrows in beer and weed and pray to a God I didn’t believe in that tomorrow would be a better fucking day.
Nix’s phone started ringing and he dug it out of his pocket, checking the screen. “I gotta take this.” He got up and walked off.
“Pussy-whipped,” Kye coughed, chuckling, and Nix flipped him off over his shoulder.
Silence enveloped us and Kye reclined his chair, tucking his hands under his head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends. Is it going to make me want to punch you?”
“Probably, but I’m going to ask anyway. If Celeste wasn’t Harleigh’s sister, do you think you would have ended things?”
“Bro, come on. I said I didn’t want—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’ve known you my whole life, Z, and you’ve never, not once been like this about a girl. Surely, that’s gotta mean something.”
“Yeah, means I picked the wrong fucking girl.”
He craned his neck, glancing over at me. “But that’s just it, what if she’s the right girl?”
“She’s not.”
She couldn’t be. We were from two different worlds. We might as well have been water and oil.
Kye pulled out a blunt and leaned over. “You look like you need this more than I do.”
“Thanks.” I took the lighter out of my pocket and lit the end, taking a long hit, letting the smoke roll through me.
“You know if you want to talk to me about her, you can.”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah, but if you did—”
“Carter?”
“Yeah, Z?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
* * *
The rest of the week dragged. Between school, practice, and picking up extra shifts at the mill, I kept myself busy enough not to think about Celeste.
At least, that was the lie I told myself.
The truth was, she infested my thoughts. Grams asked about her constantly. Especially, since she hadn’t been at the group Wednesday night. But I kept it vague.