“What was it like?”
“I don’t know. We got caught, and had to run.”
“You got caught?!”
“We got away. The guard was out of shape. That’s not the point! Paige, when I suggested it, he didn’t get all shocked like you just did, and like every other person on the planet would! He was right there.” I slap my thigh. “Ready for it!”
“Were you challenging him to do it so you could see if he would?”
Blinking at her, I sigh, “No,” and rise up, gathering the used tissues and trudging to toss them before I squirt a generous amount of her sanitizer into my palms. “That’s my point.”
“What is?”
Feeling more tired than I have in a very long time I grab my tote, and rise to slide it onto a still-worried shoulder. “I wasn’t doing it for any other reason than I’m me. And to me, those crazy things we do are pure fun. I’ll see ya later. Thanks for the hug and the ear.”
As I open the door, leaving without looking back, I hear her say, “Always here for you, Lex.”
And she would be.
She is.
In the way Paige knows how.
I’m not taking it for granted.
But it sure is a reflection.
Some people just get you.
And others love you despite the fact that you’ll always be impossible for them to truly understand.
I’ve gotta talk to Sam.
There’s no way I’m calling Gage.
And they’re the only two I feel who really…get me.
Chapter Thirty-One
LEXI
T hrowing my tote across the living room after yet another stressful day of waiting, I shout into our apartment, “I can’t believe it’s Friday and still no contact!”
Zoe hurries in, wearing a blue romper that’s very flattering. “You scared the kitties!”
I sigh, “Sorry. You look cute.”
“You too. I’m really glad you bought that dress.”
Glancing down, I finger my silky, sunflower-orange, retail-therapy purchase. “I put extra effort into looking good since I feel like a big pile of poop.”
“Did it help?”
“At least mirrors didn’t make me feel worse.” Covering my head with both arms I groan, “Arrgh!!! I need something other than tea or coffee or another glass of fucking water to drink!”
“I’ll join you.”
As we pass the wall that separates our living room and kitchen, we glance into the hallway at Samantha appearing in her bedroom doorframe, a mischievous gleam in her brown eyes, “Juice?”
“Yeah, I want juice on a Friday night. That’s what I live for.”
We continue on as my sister disappears into Zoe’s jungle, a moment later carrying into our newly immaculate kitchen one beautiful, grey-furred Sally Ashes against a black T-shirt over matching shorts. “Since your Thursday night was spent on an obsessive cleaning spree, I figured maybe—”
“—I know you’re trying to make me laugh, or cheer me up, or whatever,” I dig through our refrigerator and produce one of the beers Gage bought for when he comes over, “…but I am fine. I really am. It’s just a casual thing. I knew that. Hell, I said it over and over. He did, too. We were on the same page. We still are!” Popping the top, I lean against a counter I could lick without worry. “I’m just irritated because I would’ve expected a goodbye or something. No, that’s not true. I expected to be saying the goodbyes — not that I wanted to — but if anyone was going to exit, it would be me. And you’re welcome for the cleaning spree.”
With compassion, Zoe offers, “Thank you for cleaning. You know I hate to, but I do it anyway.”
“You and the rest of society.”
“Can I have a beer?”
“Help yourself. Wait, sorry. I shouldn’t take out my frustration on you. Here.” Digging around, I grab one of the bottled spritzers she prefers. “I’ll even get you a glass. Anything to stop thinking about what’s his name.”
“But if you’re saying ‘what’s his name’ you’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” At my warning look, Zoe clamps her mouth until I finished pouring, and takes the offered glass. “Thank you, Lexi.”
“I just think you should call him.”
“Sam! I would never do that! We don’t call guys!” I point the cold bottle at her. “And don’t bring up Logan. He’s doesn’t count because he’s just your friend — remember?!” I take a swig as they watch my mind racing over the facts. “And now that I think about it, you always let him do the calling on Mondays.”
“Not always.”
“Pretty much always. What, maybe one time you haven’t?!”
“He’s all over the world. I never know where he’s going to be.”
“Except that he tells you.”
“I…uh…don’t always remember.”
Rolling my eyes I laugh, “Oh stop. Just stop.”
Her gaze drops to the purring ball of gorgeous. “Fine.”
“What’s eating you, Sammy?”
Innocent eyes meet mine. “What do you mean?”
“You’re thinking something you’re not telling me.”
“Nope.”
“Just say it.”
“You told me to stop.”
“About calling men.”
“It’s not about that.”
Zoe interrupts, “Why don’t we call men again?”
“Because if a guy wants you, he calls. He just does.” Back to my sister, I demand, “Then what is it?”
“You said stop.”
“I take it back.”
Zoe interrupts, “But what if he lost your number?”
Samantha tells Zo, “They always find a way to reach you if they want to,” and cocks an eyebrow at me. “You take it back?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t.”
“I can, too, and I just did.”
Zoe interrupts, “But what if they need a push of encouragement. Just one push?”
My sister and I look at our cousin.
Samantha makes a dash for our dustless living room. “I don’t have to tell you if I don’t want to.”
Zoe and I exchange a look, mine incredulous, “What are we, five?!” hers a worried, “Guys…”
I swig his beer and plant it next to the sink because I wanna hear the sound of glass hitting tile. “Oh, I don’t think so!”
I race after Sam.
Zoe hurries to her room.
Samantha has already miraculously curled up on our sofa, and looks almost as relaxed as our cat, which takes commitment.
I start laughing.
