Every Kiss(11)
“I don’t know the whole story either. But I did confirm it’s about his mom. I had a feeling because Shane told me a few days ago that her name was on the caller ID. She’s never reached out to him before, but he doesn’t want anything to do with her. This afternoon, though, he went home and nearly tripped over a gift basket she left at his front door. She somehow found out where he lives, and I think that really has him bugging out. Shane has been sworn to secrecy, and he told me a lot more than he probably should have. Just try to be forgiving of Wesley’s behavior. I promise he’s not normally like this. He has a lot eating at him right now.”
“Obviously. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking he’s a butthead.” I fill her in on all of the conversations we had while she was upstairs, and while I’m complaining about him, I can’t help but thinking about how superficial I sound. He’s going through something huge, and I’m whining about the attitude he had toward me. I can be a bitch on a good day, so maybe Mak is right. I should give him a little slack. Besides, it’s just one night. I can put up with him for a few hours, and once other people get here, I probably won’t have to see him at all.
Shane comes back inside, putting a stop to our talk. He stops at the kitchen island, leaning over to rest his elbows on it and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’d think I’m the big brother in the family. He’s four years older than I am, and I’m taking care of him.” He straightens and shoots an apologetic frown my way. “He doesn’t mean it, Callie. It’s just not a good day for him.”
“I know. It’s okay.” I’m a little shocked that he’s that much older than Shane, making him twenty-six. Just over five years older than I am. No wonder he said he was babysitting me.
“Thanks for understanding, but he does owe you an apology. Makenna, people are going to be arriving soon. Will you help me iron my shirt?”
She nods and follows him. I know that was code for “I need to talk to you in private” when I hear him whispering to her on the way up to the room. “He’s on the phone with my dad right now.”
I swear this is the most stressful, dramatic party I’ve ever been to, and it hasn’t even started yet. It even tops the time my friend, Grace, caught her boyfriend sucking face with Jamie Mitchell in the linen closet at her birthday party a few years ago. Seeing the time, I decide to go reapply my lip gloss before other people get here. The entire time I was alone with Wes, I was chewing on my bottom lip—a bad nervous habit of mine—so I know what I applied earlier is far gone.
I take my heels off at the bottom of the stairs and pad up them as quietly as I can. I’m not eavesdropping this time, I swear it. But if I happen to overhear something, it’s totally not my fault. Okay, fine. I’ll try not to listen.
Once I reach the top, I’m met with complete silence. Damn, Shane is really good at this secretive thing. I slink into my room and shut the door behind me, immediately appreciating the serenity and privacy. Being able to have this space to myself is surprisingly nice, and I’m relieved to have a break from the thick tension in the air around Wes.
After touching up my lip gloss, I open the door leading to the balcony and fill my lungs with the crisp, cool air, one of the best feelings on this planet. I love cool weather, so the impending approach of summer always makes me depressed. Don’t get me wrong. I love the feel of sun on my skin, but I can still have that in the winter if I take my jacket off.
Deciding to take a private moment to appreciate my five minutes of solitude, I fish my mp3 player and earbuds from my purse and go back out to the balcony to sink into one of the cushioned wicker chairs. Scooting down to the very edge of the seat, I prop both feet on the iron railing and switch the player on to find my favorite playlist. Just before shoving the tiny speakers in my ears, I hear Wes talking on the phone in the yard below.
“Dad, don’t you dare patronize me. I swear, if you told her where I live, you and I have nothing else to say to each other.”
I quickly drown him out with the haunting riff of an expertly played guitar, cranking up the volume and closing my eyes, effectively shutting out the entire exhausting world. Sure, I could probably listen in and have all of my nagging questions answered, but there are certain lines that even I won’t cross.
Knowing that I’m in my favorite kind of oblivion, I succumb to the peace of it. I listen to the evocative emotion in the lyrics, allowing the singer to pull me into his own deeply profound thoughts. Pain. Desire. Undying love. The search for something unknown. Every song is different, yet they each leave you with the same underlying current of passion for life. The good and the bad. This is the reason I use music as my escape.