“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how awful you felt.” She squeezes my fingers.
“I didn’t either, really. It came on pretty quickly. Wes said I looked green, so he made me come inside. Before I could get upstairs, I had to race to the bathroom to throw up. God, I’m mortified.”
“He told me all about it before he left. He was more worried about you than anything, so you shouldn’t be embarrassed.”
“He left?” Why am I so disappointed?
“He said he had to get home because he has to work tomorrow. I think he’s not feeling too well, himself. He was acting kinda strange. Speaking of getting home, I let you sleep way too long. We have to hit the road, too. We have a ton of laundry to do tonight, and I have a paper I need to work on tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
After loading up the car and saying our goodbyes to Shane, we head back home. I feel a little better, but not totally back to normal. Makenna stays mostly quiet; I think she’s trying really hard to let me rest. And I almost think she’s going to make it the whole trip without bringing Wes up, but I should’ve known better than that. Makenna doesn’t let anything go. Ever.
“So . . .” She begins, turning the radio all the way down. “When are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
Her deep sigh tells me that evading isn’t going to be possible. “You know exactly what I’m talking about Callie. You’ve been acting really weird, so I need to know what’s going on.”
“Nothing, Mak. Absolutely nothing. I get how it looked . . . I really do. But I promise you, we’re only friends. We even talked about it.”
She flings her hair over her shoulder like she always does when she’s restless. “Why would the two of you even need to discuss it? Something happened. What was it?”
“I don’t exactly know.” I’m drumming my fingers on my legs. I hate her inquisitions almost as much as she hates mine.
“Callie.”
“What? I mean, I told you he was a jerk to me yesterday, and I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him. But he kept showing up, kept apologizing for being rude. I felt sorry for him once you told me about his mother—who he refused to talk to me about, by the way. Then when the party started, I met his friend Jake, and Wes got all weird and territorial, telling Jake that I was off-limits.”
She points at me. “Which totally pissed you off.” I love that she gets me. I go on to explain how I talked to Jake again to try to get back at Wes, only to end up kicking Jake’s ass in the backyard. She goes off on a little rant about Jake, but I have to pull back the reins a little to keep her on the subject of Wes. I could’ve let her keep going, but for some weird reason, I want to talk about him. I want her opinion of him and if I should be friends with him.
“So next thing I know, he’s pulling his clothes off and getting in the hot tub with me.”
It’s getting dark in the car, but I can still see her jaw drop. “You mean . . . naked?”
“No. Well, close enough, I guess. He was wearing boxer briefs. And, yes, I checked him out. Not bad at all.”
“Hold that thought.” She whips the car into a gas station. “We need coffee for this.”
I gawk at her and point to the coffeehouse across the street. “Let’s go over there. I’m not getting coffee at a gas station again. It’s like mud, and they have that disgusting powdered creamer that won’t ever dissolve. Do you think I’m some kind of barbarian?”
She scowls. “Fine. But you’re buying.” She pulls into the other lot and gets out of the car.
“What are you doing? There’s a drive-thru.”
“Yeah, like I can drive with you telling a story like this.” She shifts back and forth on her feet impatiently. “Come inside. We’ll drink while we talk and then drive the rest of the way.”
We place our orders and sink into a cozy booth away from the other patrons. It’s not a bad looking joint. Typical coffeehouse, I guess. Dim lighting, lots of different seating options, emo rock playing in the background, the nutty scent of espresso. And of course, the experience wouldn’t be complete unless you have a cute waitress with chunky blue highlights in her hair and a lip piercing. I wish this place was a little closer to home.
The feeling of Makenna’s gaze boring into my forehead pulls me from my observations. It won’t take long for her to bring it back up. I know her too well.
Three.
Two.
One.
“So . . . keep talking!”
Nailed it. “Okay, where was I? Uh, we talked a while, shared a sandwich, and drank way too much whiskey. I made him make a birthday wish, and he proceeded to show me what the wish was.”