“Kels,” she sighs. “Kels, wait. I’m sorry, I rarely see him this upset and never over his one-night fucks.”
My hand freezes on her doorknob, and I turn to face her. “What are you insinuating?” My nostrils flare with the deep breath I take.
“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m just worried. Get dressed, and we’ll go to Waffle House.” She bounces her brows, knowing I won’t deny it. “And we can talk about it more over breakfast.”
“Yeah. Okay,” I reluctantly agree. Do I want to talk moreabout it? No, because I don’t remember anything, but I need something on my stomach to help with this hangover.
After I get myself dressed, I make my way outside to Jessie’s car, where it’s now parked in the driveway. I look around at the now, empty property. Now that the sun is up, you can see the tire tracks that line the yard as well as all the beer bottles and empty cups.
“Do you want me to help clean the yard real quick before your parents see it?” I ask.
“I don’t have parents, so no worries about that. I mean, I do have parents. That made it sound like they’re dead or some shit. They abandoned us when I was twelve, and Ryder was sixteen. But that’s a story for a different day.” She says, waving her hand in the air, ending the conversation.
Her confession doesn’t sit right with me. How long have they been on their own? I just assumed their parents were involved, considering how they live. The luxury cars, clothes, and the lakefront mansion. How can they afford all of this on their own?
Sliding into the soft leather passenger seat, I close the door and feel that weird sense of awareness. The hackles on the back of my neck rise, and I look around for the source. My eyes land on the second-story window, where I imagine Ryder’s room would be. The windows are tinted, so I can’t see through, but I’m sure he can see me. I swallow thickly and avert my eyes to my phone in my hand, as Jessie drives off.
We ride in silence, both of us drained from the partyand suffering hangovers. Once seated inside the restaurant, the waitress comes over to take our orders. “What can I get you girls to eat?” She’s an older lady, maybe in her late forty’s or early fifties.
“We’ll take the All-Star special, please,” Jessie orders for both of us. We have a habit of splitting our meals. Neither of us ever finishes a whole plate, so it works out better this way—less waste and cheaper.
We hand the waitress our menus. “I’ll have it right out for you.” She says, after jotting down our order, she pins her hair up with the pencil, then heads to the back.
I take a long sip of my orange juice, putting too much faith in it to fix my upset stomach.
I don’t know why I ask, but I do, “Have you heard from Hayden this morning?”
“No, but on his days off, he sleeps all day.” She gives a breathy laugh.
“Where does he work?” Her mouth opens and closes, as if she’s not really sure herself. “He works with Ryder,” She finally says.Oh.Well, that’s vague.
Deciding to change the conversation, I twirl my straw in my orange juice and say, “I’ve been thinking. I want to switch my classes to online next semester. Double up on my classes and graduate sooner. I could really use the money.”
Jessie stares at me expressionless. This is one of those moments that I wish my psychology classes had trained me for. I have no problem reading other people, but her? She masks her thoughts and emotions so well.
Her mask falters, and sadness washes over her big hazel eyes. “What will I do without you there?”
“You could switch to online with me,” I offer.
She nods silently, chewing on her cheek. “Will you at least think about it?” I plead.
“I’ll think about it,” she says, but she doesn’t sound confident. I don’t want her to do it, if she doesn’t want to. I know she loves campus life.
The waitress walks out, making her way to our table. “Alright, ladies. One All-Star special for two.”
“Thank you,” We say in unison. My mouth waters at the sight of the food. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Neither of us speak as we shovel our mouths full of the delicious eggs and hashbrowns. Just as we take our last bites of the waffle, something crashes into the window at our booth, making us jump back with yelps.
“What the fuck?” We screech, eyeing the brick that just barreled through the window. My hand presses against my chest while my heart beats rapidly out of rhythm. I’m glad we finished eating, because our plates are now full of thick, shattered glass. A droplet of warmth runs down my cheek, and I swipe it away with my fingers, thinking it’s sweat, but when I look down, my fingers are smeared with blood. My eyes come up to meet Jessie’s wide-eyed stare. She has a small cut along her upper arm that drips blood, but she’s otherwise untouched.
“We need to leave. Now!” Jessie rushes to stand, tossing two twenties on the table. I jump up from the booth, causing tiny shards of glass to rain off my body like glitter.Jessie places her hand on the handle of a gun in her waistband that I didn’t know she carried. My heart beats wildly, and I struggle to catch my breath. What the fuck is happening?
We made it back to her car without any issues and rode in total silence to my house. Jessie never spoke about what happened at the restaurant and why she felt that she might have needed her gun. Up until that point, I thought it was a freak accident. I’ve been home a little over an hour, and the tremble in my body hasn’t eased in the slightest.
I need to check for glass that may be lodged in my skin, but I hadn’t been able to stomach the sight. When I got home, my parents weren’t anywhere to be found, and I thank the Heavens for that. How would I even explain this to them? Not to mention, they would keep me locked in the house the rest of the summer.
I’ve still avoided looking at myself in the mirror, afraid of what I might see, so I grab a towel and hop in the shower instead. I hiss in a breath when the warm water hits the cuts on my skin. My body tenses, and I just know I’m scraped up pretty good. The faintly blood-tinged water puddles at my feet as it runs down the drain. Pumping shampoo in my hand, I lather my hair with it and feel more glass rubbing against my scalp. I continue to scrub and rinse myself until I feel like I’ve washed off all the glass.
After drying off, I toss my wet hair up into a messy bun, then crawl into my bed. I’m completely exhausted and need a nap.
