"It's not me who's going to fly away, Evan."
He'd caught me. My heart was his.
He frowned, shaking his head. "I know that."
I was grateful for the hot water and the fact that he stood behind me, rubbing body wash across my back. The position hid my tears well.
* * * *
"I have to run errands," he said, after the shower.
"I'm going to make us pancakes when you get back."
"Really?" he asked, his mouth turned up in a boyish grin.
"Yep, with chocolate chips and raspberry syrup."
"Keep turning me on like this and we'll be eating raw batter."
He swatted my ass as I walked away.
I started the batter as soon I heard him come back a few hours later. Surprisingly, he didn't come straight to my place.
"It's almost ready," I yelled.
"Can you come over here, Billie?" There was something about the sharp and cold way he'd said my name that didn't sound right.
I switched off the stove and walked over to his place.
"I hope you're hungry." My smiled faded.
He was staring at the picture as if he'd never seen one before.
"What is this?"
"Do you like it?" I asked, suddenly nervous.
He didn't look at me. He just stared at it. "What's it doing nailed to my wall?"
"I found it at this art gallery downtown. It's a photograph of Orange Beach at sunrise."
"I know what it is. That doesn't answer my question."
"You said it's the place you most wanted to go, so I thought you'd like it."
"You took it upon yourself to redecorate my place?" He clenched his jaw.
Oh no … this wasn't the response I'd expected at all.
I smiled, trying to calm him down. "I think the correct term is decorate, since there's nothing on the walls to begin with. It's just one picture."
"You think this is funny?"
I put my hand on his shoulder. "Evan, I swear I didn't mean to intrude. I was trying to do something nice for you."
He laughed cynically, dragging a hand through his hair. "Nice? I agreed to all your little rules, but this"-he pointed to the picture-"this is too much."
"I'll take it back then. There's no reason to be such a dick about it."
"Did you go through my stuff, Billie?"
I followed his gaze toward the table where the wooden box lay open. In my rush and guilt to put everything back, I must have missed the order of it. And he'd noticed.
My heart picked up speed and my throat went dry at the same time. "Um … I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
"But you did?" He pounded his fist against the wall.
I jumped back. "Maybe if you talked about what happened, it could help."
"Maybe I don't want to fucking talk about it. Did you think about that when you invaded my privacy? Do we really need to have a fucking rule about personal boundaries? I figured you were smart enough that it didn't need to be said."
My fingernails bit into my palm. "You don't get to speak to me this way, Evan. No one does."
But he continued as if I hadn't said anything. "Is this your strategy? You trying to worm your way into my life?"
"Calm down, Evan. What's wrong? Has something happened?"
"Something besides you? You want more, don't you? You said as much. You're breaking my rule, Billie."
And you're breaking my heart, Evan. "I just want to be there for you."
He turned to me, his face emotionless, his mouth tight. "You are a good fuck for me, nothing more."
My lower lip quivered. I bit it so hard that I bled a little. "We don't have to have any more talks or rules, because I won't be here."
"Billie, wait."
I stomped out of his apartment, keeping the tears locked inside. I heard glass shattering. Evan swearing and storming out, slamming the door so hard that the windows clattered.
And me all alone and completely confused.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I tried to be a brave girl in the cold days that followed. I slid his key under his door the next night. He did the same with mine. At work, Evan ignored me. I'd say he treated me like any other co-worker, but he didn't even do that. His hand was bandaged, but he still managed to play, although he winced occasionally. I heard him tell someone he cut it, probably when he picked up the shattered remains of the picture. He still sang songs to me. For instance, tonight he sang Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Asshole.
At night, he didn't strum anymore. I lay awake listening and hating myself for it. I bet he slept soundly. How could he react that way? The box wasn't my business, but he hadn't even let me explain anything. I hid my tears, burying my face in my pillow. Only a thin wall separated us, but it stretched as far as a distant horizon line.
The girls made passes at him as they always did. The jealousy jabbed my gut, but I pretended to be unaffected by it all.
"You okay, sweetie?" Tilla asked after one horrible night. I watched Evan walk out with a clingy redhead as Mike sang the closing song. "I'm sure he's just getting her a cab."
I nodded, wiping the same spot I had been for the last five minutes.
"Are you trying to remove the varnish?"
"Sorry," I said.
She sighed. "Take a break."
She poured us two glasses of wine.
"What's going on with you and Evan?"
"You noticed."
"Honey, everyone noticed."
"Evan's not being himself," I blurted.
"Billie, this is how Evan usually is. He changed when you came into his life."
"I guess I've worn off then."
She clasped my hand. "It's not like that. I think he feels guilty."
"About what?"
"About his feelings for you."
I laughed. "Don't joke."
"I'm not. This is new territory for him. Did he tell you about his family?"
"He told me what happened, but he doesn't really talk about it."
"I was there when it happened."
I looked up at her. "You were the girl, weren't you? The one he stayed back for?"
She shook her head. "Is that what he told you?"
I nodded in confirmation.
"I don't think so. I don't really know why he stayed behind. I loved Evan, but we weren't in love. We were young and dumb. He was fighting with his dad a lot. I remember that. His family was pissed he bailed on the vacation, but he stood firm."
"He has survivor's remorse."
"Evan was always the life of the party, playful and funny." Her description didn't sound quite right. Evan was all that in the present tense. "You'd think a boy from Alabama wouldn't fit here, but he did. The guys all wanted to emulate him and the girls just wanted him. He was instantly popular the moment he stepped inside our high school.
"Mike had a big party at his house, the day the news broke about the tsunami. Someone called Evan over to the television. None of us could believe it, especially him. He held out such hope. He booked his ticket right away. Mike booked one too. But there were no flights for a week. They both thought they were going on a rescue mission. Evan swore he'd bring his family home."
"I can't imagine it."
"I remember making calls. We called everyone we could-the embassy, the police, the hotel, news stations. All of us trying to get information, but it was slow in coming. That was torture. When the news did finally come, it wasn't all at once. There was nothing merciful about it. I watched him crumble and die a little more with each confirmation. His mother and then a day later his father and brother. His sister, Erin, was last. Then there was no more hope left. By the time Mike and Evan left, they weren't going on a rescue mission anymore. Evan was going to bring them home for burial."
She handed me a tissue. I hadn't even realized how hard the tears were coming down my face.
"And his mom's and dad's families argued like the reincarnation of the Hatfields and McCoys. One side insisted they be laid to rest in Alabama but the other wanted Chicago. All those decisions fell to Evan. Mike and I did our best to help with the arrangements. No eighteen year old should have to bury their family."
"I'm glad he had you guys."
"He did and he didn't. Everyone grieves in their own way, and for Evan that was leaving everything behind. He settled his parents' estate. The three of us sat on the floor of the empty house that last night. Mike said when we graduated college, we should open a bar together. Evan suggested we name it The Lost Souls' Club-a place where every lost soul could stake a claim. He took off the next day and left us a note saying that if we ever opened the bar, he'd come play." She ran her finger around a knothole in the polished bar top. "Sometimes I think Mike wanted this place just so Evan would come home."