“I was trying to protect Walker, even after he stepped out on the band.”
“By feeding lies to the press about his girlfriend?”
“They weren’t lies,” he seethes. “Not all of them, atleast.” He rubs an angry hand across his jaw. “I was trying—you know what, I don’t have to justify myself.”
I almost laugh. “You kind of do if you want to try to repair any of your friendships. It’s not cute to let issues with the people you love remain unresolved because you don’t want to admit your feelings were hurt. You can’t hold onto anger just because it’s easier than confronting the hurt and insecurity you’re harboring.”
He fists his coffee. “I’m sorry, but when the fuck did you become a therapist?”
“You’re not paying me, so clearly I’m not your therapist. I’m just your…friend.” Friend. I guess that’s what I’d call us. We’re not really foster siblings anymore and we’re not strangers either.
Friend it is, I guess.
“And you don’t seem to have many of those right now,” I say pointedly. “So don’t take your anger out on me now.”
He shakes his head angrily, his lips a thin slash across his drawn face.
“If you’re so upset about being left out of your friend’s wedding plans, then do something about it. It sounds like you had the chance to talk about it last night and instead of doing so, you stormed off. That’s not going to fix it.”
“Maybe it’s not fucking fixable!” He slams his palm against the bar, and the noise causes all the heads in the place to turn in our direction. But one seething look from him has everyone turning back to their own conversations.
I probably should be concerned that Kevin could pop his head out of the back at any point and see my attention is pulled away from work, but I can’t tear myself away from Reid. My tone is softer as I ask, “Do you actually believe that? Do you really believe the damage is beyond repair?” Because from what I remember when we were younger, hisfriends and his music were the only things that made Reid smile. I remember waiting up way past my self-imposed bedtime for him to get home from their rehearsals, just to see him in a good mood and to listen to him tell me about the songs they wrote.
Reid’s silent as he stares out the window, face drawn in tight and shoulders shaking. His large frame is practically vibrating with barely contained emotion, and my hand twitches against the bar to reach out to him.
I’m just about to try to give him some sense of comfort, when he abruptly pushes back his barstool and stands.
Without another word, he takes off out of the bar.
14
Reid
My car purrs as I accelerate onto the highway under the beaming sun. It’s such a stark contrast to the raining gloom last night and it feels wrong. I long for the sky to turn gray and open up its wrath on the city again instead of this bright, warm bullshit.
Don’t you feel bad?
It’s not cute to let issues with the people you love remain unresolved because you don’t want to admit your feelings were hurt.
Do you really believe the damage is beyond repair?
Aspen’s voice echoes in my head, and I turn up the radio until the bass reverberates down to my very bones to drown it out.
She doesn’t know. She wasn’t there.
My heart thumps in time with the rhythm of the song as I drive and drive and drive, breaking the speed limits but not caring. Pull me over. Give me a ticket. Write a story about it. I don’t fucking care.
Who does anymore?
Certainly not my friends.
Am I really going to have to witness Hayden’s bachelor party through stolen photos on social media? Bile rises up my throat and I almost pull over to puke.
But I don’t. Instead, I take the next exit to head toward downtown.
Aspen may not understand because she doesn’t know the guys or the situation. She hasn’t been around the last few years to witness everything that happened.
But there’s one person who was.
