The choice is taken out of my hands completely because Liam is right. She's walking straight to us.
2
Jaylen
“Why arewe here so early? You know the party doesn’t get started until much later.” Hannah asks as I park my car. We frequent this bar more often than I’d like to admit. It’s the only place in town to hang out on the weekends when we don’t feel like driving into New Orleans. Seems fitting to have our high school reunion here.
“You know why.” I glance over at her. Patrick is really the only reason I wanted to come to this thing. Aside from the folks who moved off to do big wonderful things, I see most of the people on a daily basis. Kind of hard not to when you’re teaching their kids.
“What if he isn’t even here?” Kelly leans between us from the backseat. “Last I heard he hadn’t given a response yet.”
I guess it’s a good thing I checked yesterday. “Amanda told me he did.”
“Of course, she did.” Kelly rolls her eyes before speaking again. “He may not even recognize you. Besides, didn’t y’all leave things on uneven footing the last time you saw each other?”
Did she have to bring that up. It’s not like it was completely his fault. I didn’t know how to respond. He was my best friend. I didn’t expect him to come out and say he had feelings for me. Though, I don’t think he did either. It just sort of…happened.
“That doesn’t matter,” I groan and open the door, “we’re adults now. Both of us are capable of having a rational conversation.”
“If you say so.” Hannah gets out of the car and Kelly follows. “Let’s do this thing.”
I will never understand why they are so hyped up about hanging out with people we see every day. But I’ll let them have their fun since they haven’t given me too much crap about Patrick.
Inhale. Exhale. I close my car door and turn toward my friends. “Let’s go.”
Our heels click against the pavement as we make our way across the parking lot to the bar. It’s the beginning of what I hope to be a weekend of getting reacquainted with my former best friend.
Kelly pulls the door open, and the dim lighting is a stark contrast to the sun behind us. We file inside, and stop at the registration table. The three of us write our name in black sharpie on stickers before placing it on our chests. It does nothing for our outfits, but I understand why they do it.
Before I have a chance to ask Amanda if he’s here. She nods and points in the direction of the bar. I peek my head around my friends and see him leaning against it with his friends.
“Thanks.” I mouth to her. Moving around my friends, I straighten my back and take a step forward.
“How do you know this is going to work?” Hannah asks close to my ear to be heard over the music.
“I don’t,” I shrug off her question, “all I can do is hope.”
Another glance at the bar, and Patrick is looking everywhere but in my direction. He definitely knows I’m here. His friends keep looking at me and him. No doubt wondering what exactly is about to happen.
Though I could punch them for not letting me know when he was going to be here. I just assumed it would be early. He never did the whole fashionably late thing. Now, I need to give him no choice but to notice me.
My feet carry me in his direction. I’m honestly in a daze seeing him after all this time. I can only hope I’m portraying the confidence I’m faking, and not the jumble of nerves I am on the inside.
This whole thing could blow up in my face. Maybe he hates me now. I don’t know. The only thing I’m certain of is none of my previous relationships have worked out. Deep down, I knew they weren’t him and compared every guy to the one who got away.
“Hey Jaylen,” Hudson lifts his hand and waves as we get closer, “and friends.” He doesn’t wave to them. I swear they need to get over whatever feud they have. It’s annoying at this point.
Ignoring them, I move to Patrick’s side. His eyes are laser focused on the folks playing pool. I could let him keep on ignoring the fact I’m standing right in front of him, or I can use my words. “What? You aren’t going to say hi?”
His throat bobs and I know I’ve put him on the spot. I don’t care. He can’t act like I don’t exist. He’s the one who left town and never came back. Not until now. “Hey.”
One-word responses. That’s where we’re at now. If I’m going to ask him to come with me to another event tomorrow, I’ll need more than that. It’s the only way this whole thing is going to work. It’s the only way I’ll be able to get him back into my life.
He doesn’t seem keen to offer anything else. Small talk it is. “How have you been? Texas treating you better than Louisiana?”
“I’ve been good.” His eyes finally move away from the pool tables, but they still don’t land on me. They zero in on the beer bottle in his hands. The one he’s slowly scraping the label off of with his fingernail.
Should I feel bad for putting him on the spot? Maybe. A tiny sliver of me does. But he can’t act like we don’t have a shared past. One full of way more great memories than bad ones.
