“I figured that.”
“What? How?”
“He came here looking for you.”
My eyes widen then I blink several times. “When?”
“Last night. That bastard woke me up. He was throwing rocks at the back window. I can’t understand why’d do that since we have his cell number, but it was actually kinda cute,” Whit giggles. “Any who, I told him you were probably walking on the beach or something.”
“Oh.” I play with my fingers for a second. “I saw Drake, too.”
Whit grips onto my hand and squeezes. “When?”
“He was waiting for me on the steps of the porch when I got back from the walk.” Our eyes lock. “He didn’t knock on the door or anything did he?”
Whit shakes her head. “No. And you know me; if he knocked I would have heard it.” Whit has always been a really light sleeper. “What did he want?”
“He apologized,” I say with a shrug and a crack of emotion in my voice.
I’m not telling her the whole story and it kills me to keep this from her, but I’m still in pain and I’d rather wait to elaborate. But Whit doesn’t buy it. Sometimes I wish she didn’t know me so well. She slits her eyes. “What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing.”
Whit puckers her lips and shakes her head. “Spill. I know you’re not telling me something.”
“Alright,” I sigh. “So I asked Drake a question last night.”
Whit closes her eyes and lets a gust of air out of her lungs. “Oh no.”
“I asked him if he liked me like that.”
“Oh, no. Robin you didn’t?”
A tear drips down my cheek. “I’m an idiot.” It feels like I’ve been having idiot moments a lot lately.
Whit reaches up and wipes the tear away. “I don’t know, Whit. For some reason I thought I’d be able to handle hearing his answer. I listened to what you said. I needed the closure or I didn’t feel like I’d ever be able to move on.”
“What exactly was his answer?”
The words sting my tongue as I spit them out. “I’ve never liked you like that.”
I stand slowly, knees trembling, more tears flowing from my eyes. I hunch over, placing my hands flat on the table as I gasp for air and my crying escalates. Whit rushes over and pulls me in, hugging me and I lie my head on her shoulder. “Why does it hurt so much? If I didn’
t love him at all, why do I still feel like I’m broken inside?”
Whit hugs me tighter and rests her chin on the top of my forehead. “Because Robs, the truth hurts. It always does. And always will.”
For once I’m thankful that I never let another guy make me feel the way Drake did. The pain inside me throbs, gripping my heart, and cuts off the flow of blood from my arteries. And I’m certain that if I did allow myself to feel like this I would have never made it through high school in one piece.
After lunch, Whit hops in the shower and I grab a beach chair and head out back. I want to get lost in the waves, swept up by the tide, and warm from the heavy sunshine. I’m cold inside. Frigid. Stiff. And I’m hoping that a few rays from the burning sun will be able to melt the ice inside of me. Make me feel alive instead of frozen over and dead inside.
As I plant my beach chair firmly in the sand I catch Sadie, pacing behind her house. I focus on her tense stature and the way her jaw is clenched. And then she screams, “Fuck you, Drake!” Then she throws her cell phone into the sand. He’s burned her too. For some reason that makes me feel a little better.
That is until I hear her sobbing.
A pang of remorse stabs my heart and even though I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for her, I do. Standing, I make a point to go over to her and she glares in my direction and tries to hide the fact that she’s crying. “Everything okay, Sadie?” I am concerned for her because I know first-hand how bad Drake’s words can sting.
“What do you care?” she bites back with a scowl and quickly scurries away from me.