***
I spend the weekend and the following days poring over my books, throwing myself into studying so I don’t think about all the crap in my head. I still haven’t heard from Presley, and I can’t lie to myself—I was clinging to a sliver of hope, but that’s pretty much withered and died now. I veer between anger and hurt, and I’m so fucking tempted to call her or just show up at the bar, but my stubborn pride won’t let me.
She needs to come running to me, not the other way around.
I miss her like crazy, which is nuts.How is it she dug her way into my life so fully in such a short period of time?I have never believed in love, never expected to find someone I cared about, yet with her it was so natural I didn’t even realize it was happening.Is that how it’s supposed to be when you find your person? Is she that for me? Or am I just sick of the endless random fucks and lonely nights and she came along at the right moment?
I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter now. Because she showed her true colors in the end.
Even though Selena and Keanu have stayed here every night this week, I’m back to my miserable, lonely existence, and my body craves release from this torture. If it wasn’t for Selena, I’d be drowning my sorrows and numbing my pain, but I don’t want to see that same pity in her eyes. So, I’m trying to be strong, and apart from the occasional beer, and a nightly joint I permit myself to smoke, I’m abstaining.
We’re eating takeout Thursday night when Keanu’s cell rings repeatedly. Swiping his finger across the screen, he frowns, sighing loudly.
“Who is it?” Selena asks, placing another serving of salad on her plate.
“Whitney.” He glances at me.
“Why the fuck is she calling you?”
He levels me with a knowing look. “Probably because you’ve turned your cell off, making it obvious you’re ignoring her. You’ve got to speak to her sometime.”
“I’ll speak to her when she agrees to take the paternity test.” So far, Faye has had zero success convincing her stubborn-ass sister to voluntarily agree. I’ve already told Mom if she doesn’t agree by next week to file the paperwork. I’ve got exams coming up and an interview with a family law firm in Boston for a summer internship. I do not need this shit messing things up for me any more than it already has.
Keanu presses play on his phone, turning the speaker on so we can all listen to Whitney’s message.
“Keanu,” she sobs. “Why won’t he talk to me? How can he do this to me?” she adds, slurring her words. “If he doesn’t care about me, maybe he’ll care about his baby,” she screeches as her pain transfers to anger. “For every day he refuses to speak to me, I’m getting drunk. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll sell my story to the media.” She hiccups, and my hands ball into fists as rage pummels me from all sides. “I can already see the headline. Cruel Kennedy asshole abandons his baby momma in favor of gold-digging whore.”
I jump up, and my chair slams to the ground as I grab fistfuls of my hair, pacing the floor like a deranged lunatic. The next time Whitney calls Presley that, I will wring her fucking neck, pregnant or not. Keanu shuts the message off when the doorbell chimes. I stalk off, yanking it open with force.
“What’s happened now?” Kyler asks, sighing heavily as he takes in the murderous rage on my face.
“Play it,” I yell at Keanu as Kyler brushes past me, and I slam the door shut.
Kyler dumps an overnight bag on the floor and stands still, a look of stoic resignation on his face as he listens to Whitney’s threat. “We need to take control of this situation,” he says, after the message ends with Whitney’s cackling, drunken laughter. “It’s why I dropped by.”
“How?” I wave my hands in the air. “She won’t agree to the test, and apart from going the legal route and ignoring her, I don’t see what else I can do.”
“We can’t let her go to the press,” Keanu says. “If this gets out, it’ll be a fucking goat rodeo.”
We all stare at him, and he smirks.
“Bro, no one uses that word anymore.” My brother is fucking weird.
“I’m claiming it,” Keanu says, grinning. “It’s more inventive than shitshow or train wreck, and I like to be original.”
I glance at Selena. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”
Kyler points at me. “We’re flying to New York tomorrow,” he says, ignoring our banter and refocusing the conversation.
Thank fuck tomorrow is an optional day, because I barely managed to sweet-talk my way out of last week’s poor attendance. They take that shit seriously at Harvard Law, and I can’t afford to miss any more days. I was planning on attending my study group tomorrow afternoon, but I can study on the plane instead.
“Dad booked Michael to take us since he has some golf thing he can’t get out of. I’m staying here tonight, and we can travel to the airport together in the morning.”
“Why are you staying here?” I ask, cocking my head to one side. Kyler never voluntarily leaves his wife and children, and it’s not like he couldn’t just drive to the airport from Wellesley.
He rubs the back of his head. “Faye doesn’t approve of my plan, and we had a massive argument.”
“You shouldn’t be the one to do this,” I tell him.
