I change the subject. “If we go shopping in town, there’s a really good chance that we’ll see him and I don’t think I can handle that right now, okay?”
Whit falls back on the bed with a sigh. “You can’t avoid him forever.”
“Yes I can and I will.”
Whit rolls over and props herself up on her elbows as I roll onto my back. “No you can’t. This is a small town and you’re going to see him eventually.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Seriously, enough of this shit!” Whit hops up off the bed and starts yanking on my arm. “Get up. We’re going shopping.”
“No we’re not.”
“Robs, I am not going to let you spend the rest of the vacation cooped up in this room!” Whit pulls me until half of my body is dangling off the edge of the bed. “Get up.”
I don’t move. Whit tugs on my arm with more force and grunts as she begins to make more progress. Now my entire abdomen is hanging off the edge of the bed and I’m digging my toes into the mattress to keep myself from falling. “Whit, stop!” Another forceful tug and I feel like she’s going to rip my shoulder out of its socket. “You’re hurting me!”
She doesn’t listen and says, “So.” Then she continues tugging. Finally I fall into a heap on the floor. Whit drops my arm while I lie there on the floor. She crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently. “Get a move on it, Robs.”
“No,” I groan.
Whit crouches down right next to my ear. “Trust me, if I have to pull you out the door by your feet I will.”
I grumble and push myself off the floor, sitting up with my back against the bed frame. “Whit, the hurt still feels too fresh. Too new. Just give me another day or two. I promise. I’ll come out then.”
She shakes her head, standing up. “Nope. I’m not buying it.” She walks to the door. “Let’s go. Robs, I know you. One, you give up way too easily. Two, if things get hard or difficult you shut yourself out. You never face your problems head on.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And how is that a bad thing?”
“Because then the problem never gets solved. You’ll never have closure. You’ll never move on. Look how many years you’ve spent pining over this tool. The only way you’re going to be able to move on is if you confront the problem head on. Yeah, it will be painful. Yeah it’s going to suck. But at least you won’t be spending every vacation from here on out seeing him places and feeling awkward around him, wondering why.”
Her words make sense, but I’m still wary about leaving. What if I see Drake out with Sadie? I know that will be my undoing and I don’t want to give either one of them the satisfaction of seeing me cry in public over what they’ve done to me. Also, what if Drake asks me to talk? I don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind to have a normal conversation. I’m too pissed and heartbroken and more than anything I think that any conversation that I have with Drake will most likely lead to a slap across the face over me sticking around to listen to whatever lame excuse he’s going to give me.
And I know he’ll have one ready. A lame excuse.
Guys like Drake always have something prepared in situations like this. He’ll either say, “It’s not you, kid. It’s me,” or “I just don’t want to be in a relationship right now.” I swear I can hear the sound of my hand connecting with his jaw ringing in my ears already.
Whit extends her hand and wiggles fingers, leaning over inching closer to me. “Seriously, Robs. It’s only for a little while. If we see him and it’s too overwhelming for you we can come back.”
I glimpse at her from the corner of my eye. “Swear?”
She flashes me a cheesy grin. “I promise.”
Whit is so persistent. Sometimes I have a hard time telling her no—no I have a hard time telling her no all the time.
My parents give us the car to use for the day. They are headed down to the beach with the Marshalls. I’m in the driver’s seat and dad stands at the window and motions for me to roll it down. I hit the power windows button and he leans into the car. “Why don’t you guys take Sadie with you?”
“No.” I don’t think I can say it fast enough. Sadie walks in front of our house with her cell phone in hand, texting away. I scowl at her and wish that her phone would spontaneously combust and blow her hand off. She’s probably texting Drake.
“Hey, Sadie!” Dad calls.
I grip his wrist and squeeze. “Dad, no!” I glance at Whit and a nervous flicker resides in her eyes.
Dad ignores me.
Sadie stops, glares at me for a second, and averts her attention to dad, flashing him a fake smile. “What’s up Mr. M?”
I’m pretty sure my fingernails are digging into dad’s arm, but he doesn’t pay attention. “The girls are going into town to go shopping. Would you like to join them?”