You and Everything After(63)

Rowe is waiting for me when I get back to our room, and I actually run to her, hugging her so tightly that it makes her choke a little.

“Sorry. I think I missed you,” I smile.

“I’m glad,” she says, her smile reflecting mine. “Go ahead and shower. We’ll walk over together.”

I want to ask her if he’s going to be there. I want to be prepared. But I don’t ask, because at this very second, I’m happy and looking forward to something. Might as well not ruin it until I have to.

I speed through my shower. My stomach is twitching with the fast beats of my heart, my nerves tangling with my exhaustion. I slip on a pair of black leggings and a giant sweatshirt, just warm enough to keep me comfortable, and I blow my hair nearly dry.

“Okay, I’m set,” I say, grabbing my wallet and keys and stuffing them inside the front pouch of my sweatshirt.

“You have to be the world-record holder for primping,” Rowe says, reaching for the elevator button while we wait in the hall. “Paige would have needed an hour.”

“Paige would have needed twenty-four hours notice,” I laugh. There’s some truth to that statement, though. “I’m lazy. I don’t want to spend time on things I’m not good at.”

I don’t know why my words make me frown, but they do. Rowe reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. I lay my head on her shoulder for the elevator ride. “Thanks for the invite. I think I need to get out tonight,” I say, and I feel her tense under my touch. I know what that means, but I’m still not ready to pop my bubble of happiness.

“So, I’m thinking of joining the soccer team,” I throw out there as we step off the elevator. I can’t talk to my parents about this, and now that Ty’s gone, I’m not so sure I have the guts to follow through with it any longer. As desperate as it seems, I think one little boost from Rowe might keep my dream afloat.

“You play soccer?” she asks, her feet stutter-stepping with her surprise. “I mean, I knew you were in great shape and all. I just didn’t know you did anything like that? Are you…I don’t know…good?”

I smile at her question, and I reach around her arm and link us together, giving her a squeeze as I pick up our step. “Yeah,” I say, no longer doubting my dream. “I’m good.”



Ty



Free rum and Coke. I’ve had to pay for all of my therapy drinking the last two days, so when Nate offered to take care of tonight’s “medicine,” I was all over it. Plus, the two hot chicks Paige brought to tag along were a pretty welcome distraction.

Paige hasn’t hit me yet. I was, frankly, expecting to find her at my door bright and early this morning. My only guess is that Cass has kept our blowout a secret. Nate said that Rowe knew about it, because he told her. Of course, I’m the bad guy in this. At least, according to Rowe I am.

I probably am the bad guy in this. But I’ll be damned if I was the only one being an irrational asshat in that fight.

I’m not even surprised when I see her walking up with Rowe. I think I knew this was an ambush all along. But now, I’m four drinks in, and I feel rowdy. I’ve been flirting with easy girls who don’t want attachments, don’t require work, and don’t fuck with my heart and my head.

But the closer she gets, the more she comes into focus. She’s beautiful.

“Oh fuck no!” I shout. Yeah, so maybe I’m a little drunk.

Rowe scolds me fast, putting me in my place. It makes me smirk. I like that girl. She’s good for my brother. I wave her off and turn my attention back to Paige and her two girlfriends—mostly because they have the bottle of liquor.

“Fill ’er up,” I say, holding my cup out for Paige. She holds her hand over the bottle and stares at me with a sharp look. I know I’m about to get the hammer I’ve been waiting for.

“You better fix whatever that is,” she says, pointing to her sister with a swirling finger. “She hasn’t said a word to me, but Rowe says you two had a fight. So help me god, if I find out you did anything that warrants me cutting your dick off, don’t think I won’t.”

Here’s the thing: when chicks make threats like that, it instantly incites a chemical reaction in the brain of a dude, and we imagine whatever it is they said, and then we feel it. However juvenile it might seem, however unlikely it is that Paige will actually cut my dick off—I just felt it happening. And that’s enough of a threat for me.

Effective. That shit’s highly effective.

“Your sister lost my watch,” I say, somehow thinking in my state that Paige will have some clue what this means and cut me some slack. I’m sure my words must sound like gibberish though, because she just bunches her nose at me and shakes her head.