“Just don’t make any more,” he whispers into her ear.
And that was the moment that I saw my best friend fall in love.
Well, not really.
But, maybe.
41
Claire
Ispent the rest of the day at Chloe’s, listening to her rehash what she could remember from the night before. Apparently, Ronan told her that her car-bombing was impressive — one sentence I hope he never uses in a parking garage — and she proceeded to spend the rest of the night showing off her skills.
After ordering food from the Chinese place down the street and stuffing ourselves with crab rangoon, vegetable lo mein, and orange chicken, we watched the end ofSixteen Candles, and I left for my tutoring session on middle school grammar.
Somewhere between comma usage and theyou have to write out words like “are” and “you” rather than using single letterslesson, my phone buzzed in my bag on the floor. I gave Brian, or B-Rye as he prefers, a few examples to try on his own and pulled it out just long enough to see who the text was from.
Seeing Jay’s name on my screen caused me to heave a huge sigh of relief. All day I told myself that he was busy, rarely checks his phone at work, or isn’t one to talk much anyway, but I couldn’t silence the voice in the back of my mind that kept telling me he regrets last night and he’s not sticking around. I shoved my phone back into my bag and decided I could read it later. Just knowing he wasn’t avoiding me was good enough.
But then I saw the text. Long after my tutoring session had ended, I still sat, staring at the screen.
JAY:Busy day. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Alright, so itwas something. He had the decency to at least text me back, but after last night, and the place that Ithoughtwe had gotten to, I expected more than essentially a day of silence. I returned the text asking if everything was okay and it went unanswered.
My first instinct was to be annoyed, but I knew what I signed up for when I decided to start falling for a man whotoldme he’s not good with communication. So, instead, I channeled all of my frustration into the book.
I stayed up way too late writing three more chapters about Alice and Owen and sometime after Alice started a new school, I fell asleep with my computer in my lap.
I wake up now, to once again, no texts or calls from Jay. Sure, he didn’t say he’d call in themorning, but at this point, it’s been twenty-four hours since he asked, no told me, to be with him and then totally ignored me.
Rather than letting the anxiety fester, I decide it’s time to take a much-needed run. I change out of my pajamas and into my running shorts and tank top. I grab my headphones and turn on myRun Like You Stole Somethingplaylist. By the time I stretch and get to the street, the chorus of DJ Khalid’sAll I Do Is Winis playing in my ears. An appropriate anthem for the headspace I’m aiming for.
My first mile is quick and way beyond my normal pace, but it’s like my body is fueled by the stress coursing through my veins. By mile two, I’m slowing down, both physically and mentally. The endorphins hit their pace as I hit mine, calming the chaos that was rising in my head.
I pass my parent’s house and see they’re still not home.Good, I think,because I am definitely not ready to deal with that right now. Before I know it, I’m rounding the corner of Main Street where Monroe’s Motors sits at the end. Would it be absolutely ridiculous to show up to Jay’s work for a third time? Sure. Is it just as crazy to run by and look for his truck in the lot? I’m going with only slightly and that’s good enough for me.
I jog by the bay doors and peer inside. Without slowing down to total creep-speed, I can’t see anyone who looks like Jay. Being that he’s over six feet tall, has arms like a coloring book, and is somewhat massive insize, I would think he’d be hard to miss. But, while I’m here, I decide to take my run around the back street where the parking lot is before heading back toward my apartment.
Once again, I slow down, lessening my pace just enough to scan the cars. Nothing. There’s not even another vehicle the same color as his, parked anywhere near the garage.
“Claire!” I nearly trip on the curb in front of me, hearing my name being called from the direction of the shop. I slow down to almost a walk and see Sean waving a hand towel in my direction.
“Hey, Sean,” I call, still across the parking lot. I’m not quite sure if this is a stop and talk situation or if he’s just saying hello.
“What are you doing?”
Okay, so not only are we stopping and talking, but we’re stating the obvious too.
“Just my morning run,” I say awkwardly, half looking for Jay and half hiding from him too.
“Ah, good for you. I could never.” He points to his very young, clearly unathletic legs. “Bad knees.”
“Mmm,” I say half-listening, suddenly slightly nauseous from thinking about Sean’s joints.
“So, where’s Jay been?” He’s got my full attention now.
“What do you mean? He’s not at work?” I was slightly out of breath before from the exercise, but I’m breathing even heavier now.
