Was I crying over him now?
Oh yeah. But I tried to do it quietly, and only in the middle of the night, so Cami wouldn't have to suffer along with me.
And I was suffering – not only because I missed him like crazy, but also because I realized that much of my misery was of my own making.
I should've asked him directly for the truth.
But I hadn't.
So here I was.
Where he was, I couldn't be certain. And maybe that was for the best – or at least, that's what I kept telling myself – over and over.
For all the good it did.
Chapter 71
Brody
I stopped short at the sight of Chase standing in my kitchen. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Eating cookies," he said from behind the counter. "What does it look like?"
Fucker. He wasn't eating cookies. He was eating the cookies – the ones Arden had baked for me.
The cookies – still on their original plate – were sitting on the main counter where I'd left them three days ago after finding them, along with the check, in Arden's old closet at the crew house.
I hadn't eaten any. But I hadn't thrown them out either.
Now in my kitchen, I looked down at the plate. From what I could tell, Chase had eaten three, maybe four cookies, leaving a dozen or so left.
I grabbed the plate and shoved it aside, far out of his reach. "Those aren't for you," I told him.
In his hand was a half-eaten cookie. "What?" he laughed. "You want this one, too?"
I did. But hell if I'd admit it.
When my only reply was a long, pissed-off look, Chase popped the remainder of the cookie into his mouth and grinned. "I don't know why you're pissed," he said. "They're stale as fuck."
I felt my jaw clench. "Then why are you eating them?"
With a mouthful of cookie, he said, "Because they're damned good."
Good, stale, or both – I didn't want them. And yet, I hadn't thrown them out either. Instead, I'd brought them all the way to my condo, where they'd been sitting there, taunting me from the same countertop for three days now.
Chase said, "Hey, you wanna hear something funny?"
I didn't.
I didn’t feel like laughing. I hadn't smiled for weeks now, not since Arden and I had called it quits.
But there was no stopping Chase when he had something to say, so I answered with a resigned shrug.
He leaned sideways against the counter and said, "You remember Kenny Smits?"
I'd known Kenny in high school. The guy was a major douche-bag. "Yeah. What about him?"
"Yesterday, I see him at the gym, and we get to talking – nothing big, just, 'How've you been?' and stuff like that. But then, as we're heading out, he says to me, 'Hey, tell your brother I owe him.'"
"Oh yeah? Which brother?"
"You," Chase laughed. "You're the one he graduated with."
In high school, Kenny and I had run in opposite crowds. I didn't like the guy, but I didn't hate him either.
One thing I knew for damn sure. I hadn't done him any favors.
To Chase, I said, "Thanks for what?"
"You wanna guess?"
"No."
"You want a hint?"
Oh, for fuck's sake. "Just spit it out."
"Well, ol' Kenny got himself a full ride to Michigan State – room and board. Plus a stipend. Did you know?"
I shook my head. "Didn't know, didn't care. What does that have to do with me?"
"Well, get this," Chase said. "His scholarship – it was a last-minute thing, because it was supposed to go to someone else until that someone messed up."
By now, I was only half listening. It had been this way for a while now. I felt like I was going through life in a dark, empty fog.
I knew why, too.
I looked to the cookies and felt myself swallow. It wasn't from hunger. It was from something else, something I'd been trying to ignore for weeks.
I was doing a sorry job of it, too. Everywhere I looked, I saw her face. I saw her standing in the house on the beach, with that look she got when she was thinking. I saw her smiling up at me the way she did sometimes when the two of us shared a secret joke. I saw her at the crew house, nibbling at the edges of peanut butter toast, savoring it like it was the priciest pastry from the fanciest shop.
And at night, well, let's just say I wasn't sleeping so good, and it showed. I'd been snapping at everyone for weeks, except for the times I kept to myself, which was far too often considering all the work crews who needed more direction than I'd been giving.
God, I missed her.
Chase said, "Don’t you wanna know who?"
I was still eying the cookies. Why couldn’t I just throw the damn things out already?
To Chase, I managed to say, "Who what?"
"Who had the scholarship first."
I didn't care. With my eyes trained on the cookies, I said, "Alright, who?"
Chase laughed. "Arden Weathers."
At the sound of her name, my head jerked upward. "What?"
"Arden Weathers," he repeated.
"I heard you the first time," I said. "But what are you saying?"
"The scholarship," Chase said. "It was Arden's until she lost it."
I stared across the kitchen counter. "Lost it how?"
"The usual way," Chase said. "Grades didn't measure up."
I shook my head. No way. Arden's grades were perfect, until—
Oh, fuck.
Instantly, all of the things she'd said during the past few months came flooding back to me.
"It cost you nothing."
"It cost me everything."
And what had I told her in reply? "Get over it."
I considered the house on the beach. If it weren't for me, she wouldn't have been saddled with student loans. She wouldn't have been working too many hours while getting her degree. She would've had a lot more fun – and a hell of a lot more money.
And the house – it would've been hers.
I knew it in my gut. If it weren't for that stunt I'd pulled with the lighter, she could've bought the house on her own. Yeah, it would've
