Driving With the Top Down (21 page)

But apparently, that wasn’t on Bitty’s list. Again she shook her head. “Oh, no. Nothing’s going to happen to him. He’s going to go to Georgia, and I’m never going to hear from him again, and I will wonder for the rest of my life what ever happened to him. He will always be the one.”

“Come on.” Colleen took her by the shoulders. “This is so melodramatic. He didn’t go back in time, he just went back to his hometown. They have phones there. He can call you.”

“No.” She sniffed. “I told him not to.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how these things go. If he left with some intention to come back for me someday and I sat around waiting for that, it would just prolong the agony. It still wouldn’t work out. These things never do. So I’d get my hopes all built up, live the life of a nun or a sea widow while waiting for my man to come back, and then he wouldn’t and I would be lost.”

Colleen didn’t point out that Bitty seemed pretty lost right now as it was. She couldn’t understand why her friend wouldn’t rather cling to some sort of hope, especially since chances were really good that Blake would be back sooner than anyone expected. Not that Colleen hoped for that, because it would mean his mother didn’t make it, but realistically, that’s how cancer went sometimes—it took over quickly and mercifully.

There would be no reason for Blake to stay down there, then. Especially if he still had Bitty to come back for. Colleen couldn’t understand why she wasn’t clinging to that driftwood of hope.

“I think he’ll be back.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Bitty demanded. “What if I wait and wait and he never comes back? Because, I have to say, the way he’s leaving, the way he told me
on his way out of town,
it sure doesn’t seem like my feelings are any sort of priority for him here.” She dissolved into heaving sobs again. “I didn’t s-see this c-coming. N-not at all!”

Colleen watched helplessly, rubbing her hand on Bitty’s upper back and making soothing noises to no effect.

Finally, Bitty recovered herself. “I love that guy more than anything. And the fact that he can just leave—”

“But you know why he has to,” Colleen said firmly. She’d had enough—she couldn’t just watch Bitty have a nervous breakdown without acknowledging the other facts of the situation, the other people involved. “It’s his mom, Bitty, he can’t turn his back on her when she’s dying. What would you think of him if he did? I know it sucks, but you must understand how—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Bitty held up a finger at Colleen and tilted her head. “How did you know that?”

Colleen’s face drained of all warmth. She hadn’t heard them fighting; she’d arrived at the tail end, when Blake was leaving. And Bitty hadn’t told her all of this yet—she’d been crying too hard to calmly detail the whole conversation for Colleen.

Colleen knew because Kevin had told her. And Kevin knew because Blake had told him. And that meant everyone knew before Bitty did.

And that math problem was formulating and resolving in Bitty’s mind right now.

Bitty’s eyes narrowed as she realized that this night and what had happened was clearly not news to Colleen.

“You
knew
!”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t
even
try to lie.”

Colleen took a breath, frantically trying to find a way to justify the unjustifiable. “Okay, Kevin told me just the other day, and I didn’t know what to say! I didn’t hear it directly from Blake. What if Kevin had misunderstood or something? It would have been wrong of me to say something when I didn’t know the facts.”

Bitty took a step back. “No, no—I’ll tell you what you say, you say, ‘Hey, my supposed friend, your boyfriend’s about to leave you, so start preparing yourself for that.’”

“How was I supposed to say that? I wasn’t supposed to know at all! And I
didn’t
! I didn’t know
anything
for sure.”

“No, but you
did
. And so you should have told me.”

“Blake would have been so mad at Kevin, he specifically—”

“I don’t give a damn about Kevin getting grief about telling his girlfriend. This is about
more
that that.”

Bitty never swore.

“This isn’t about us.”

“My life falling apart and my best friend knowing it and not warning me
isn’t
about that?”

“This is just a bump in the road, not your whole life falling apart! Think about it!”

“Easy for you to say!”

“It’s
not
easy for me to say. I
hate
seeing you this upset, but you’re making this all about you and your feelings when there are really big things going on that no one has control over.”

“You did.”

“How?”

“You could have warned me. Given me a heads-up so I could think about this, digest it. Maybe force the issue with Blake so we could have talked about it when his car engine wasn’t running, waiting for him to just get in and leave me forever.”

“I’m sure he waited because he couldn’t bear to tell you.”

“Or he was afraid. You were all afraid.”

“It wasn’t my place
or
Kevin’s.”

“And if I knew Kevin was doing some other girl, would it
not be my place
to warn you?”

Colleen’s nerves tightened, and she was tempted to ask what Bitty meant—but she knew there was nothing there, that Bitty was only making a point. “It would be for
Kevin
to tell me,” she said firmly. “If you told me something like that, there’s always the risk that it was a misunderstanding and you would have gotten me all upset over nothing. And that’s exactly how I felt in this case, Bitty. I didn’t know the real facts. I didn’t know he was leaving today. I didn’t know anything for certain—it was up to Blake to tell you everything.”

“All I know is that he’s gone, and you knew he was going and watched me skip around on air, all la-di-da, having no idea. I realize you and Kevin have been together only a couple of months and you don’t know what it’s like to be so tight with someone, but Blake was my whole world and now he’s gone. Hundreds and hundreds of miles away.
Gone
.”

“Bitty, stop, please—it’s really serious that he has to go home for this, and I just didn’t know how I was supposed to give you this news. No matter what, it wasn’t mine to tell.”

“You know how I feel about him.”

“Yes! Which is exactly why it would have been so hard to break news to you that isn’t even my news to break! And which is based on something else
also
serious that I know zero about. Don’t lose sight of that, Bit—this is a really serious family crisis.”

Bitty shook her head. “You should have told me. I will never,
ever
forgive you for this.”

“Bitty—”

She held up a hand to say stop, but said nothing.

Colleen halted and melted a little. Bitty looked away and walked to one of the waiting cabs that always sat outside of Henley’s diner.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tamara

The problem with getting a text from a cute boy was the number of minutes, hours, and—nauseatingly—days that went by where you heard nothing. She had even taken a picture of a statue she saw in one of the restroom stops they’d made in some anonymous town (characterized by a complete lack of character in the gray Jersey walls, skid-marked pavement, and weedy brush) that no one would ever think about, of a dog smoking a cigarette. She’d put her fake Ray-Bans on him and thought that it was a hilarious picture. But the picture had gone unanswered. Why had he asked to play that little game if he didn’t even seem to care?

It had been days since their last interaction, which was making her feel irritable and moody. She hated being a fool over a boy, but there you go. All she had now was Vince texting her. Even he wasn’t texting her that much. Just answered her. Their conversation the night before had gone as follows:

Hey V, how’s stuff?

good, im at this big ass house rite now. the pool is fuckin awesome

Wish I was there, that sounds like fun

No answer, so she went on.…

My trip is kinda boring.

prolly shudnt of gone then

It bothered her beyond belief that he could act like it was her choice. He knew she was dragged kicking and screaming on the trip.

it’s not like I had a choice!

whatever. when u back again?

Really? He didn’t even remember?

Soon, like next week sometime.

No answer again. No enthusiasm at the prospect of her return. Just silence. Desperate for some kind of flirtation, she continued.…

You wont need that video anymore, you’ll have the real thing;)

Even texting that made her feel gross. She stared at her phone, waiting for the three little dots, the telltale sign that he was answering her. But no. Just the time stamp that said he had read it, but that he wasn’t answering.

And he didn’t answer. Not all night or anything.

Tamara wasn’t even aware of Bitty and Colleen. They were all at a BBQ place, and all she could do was check her phone every two seconds. She wasn’t even eating.

She was
that
girl.

Like, what could Vince even be doing? She
knew
his phone was always on him. She
knew
that. She knew he had seen it. She hadn’t done
anything
to make him mad. What the hell was his problem?

She got on Facebook and typed in his name. Maybe that would explain something.

“Tam?”

She looked up. “What?”

Bitty gestured a little shyly at her plate. “I asked if you were going to eat your fries.”

Colleen piped in. “Or your sandwich—you haven’t even taken a bite!”

“I’m not really all that hungry. You can have the fries, Bitty.”

“We aren’t leaving until you eat half of that,” Colleen said matter-of-factly.

“But—”

“Uh-uh. You heard me.”

Tam groaned and took a big bite. She was hungry, she realized, but eating just didn’t feel like something she could really handle right now.

She started as she saw a picture posted of Vince. Posted by Lauren Fellows. Lauren Fellows? Who was that?

She clicked on her profile picture. Oh no. No, he did
not
.

The redhead from the party. The one who Tamara figured probably
hated
the music and who was just so freaking cool with her crazy Paramore hair and her quirky interests, and use of the words “dude” and “chick.”

That stupid red-haired bitch.

She went back to the picture. It was him, surrounded by thick smoke, on a balcony of some kind. Just looked like one of the crappy apartment complexes that littered Towson University, his favorite place to go get messed up. Tamara scanned the picture for any signs that might give her more of an idea of what he had been up to. Her eyes stopped when they landed on a foot with pink toenails. On his thigh. Barely making it into the frame.

Her head spun a little, and she pushed the sandwich away from her, suddenly feeling simultaneously weak and bursting with rage.

She got up from the table, saying something that hopefully sounded like, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

It was hot out, and that only made her flushing red cheeks feel more like they were burning. She crouched against the wall at the side of the building, phone still tight in her hand. She was tempted to throw it. Oh, how good would it feel to just hurl that stupid little rectangle down the alley, into the puddle that had formed in the middle from God knows what. But she didn’t. Only because she knew the shit-fit her dad would throw if he found out she broke it. Make up an excuse or not, he would be livid and scream at her until she crawled even further into herself. If that were even possible.

So instead, she just leaned against the wall, piecing it all together.

He hadn’t answered her. The second she’d left town, he hung out with that girl. That meant either he had got her number that night, while she had been right there, or he’d asked about her. How embarrassing for her to be the stupid fool of a girlfriend off on a road trip, while other people knew that Vince was asking around about some hot little thing from some stupid party?

What had it all been for? All the countless, endless nights and days she had hung around him, basically acting as a lapdog. She had sat and watched him play his stupid games for hours without complaint. When she wanted to go to the movies or something, she would pay, because she’d rather get him to go than not be able to go at all. She had admitted to having a boyfriend, never trying to move on or meet someone new, because she had promised to be with him.

But why? For how long? Until they got married? Until he knocked her up? Until someone else saved her?

Shamefully, she tried not to admit to herself that the last part was the right one. She wanted to be saved. She wanted someone to come along and tell her she deserved better. Someone who she could hang out with like normal people do, who would do cute little dumb surprises—even if it was as small as grabbing a bag of her favorite candy when he filled up his crappy old car. She wanted the Prince Charming on a white horse to come in, maybe even have a little showdown with Vince. How would it be to be desired and wanted so badly that someone would fight for you? She both could and couldn’t imagine it. She could be out on some cute date with this imaginary guy, getting ice cream and walking around Old Ellicott City, with its stone walls and cobbled streets, and that one store that she had never been in, filled with glittery girlie things.

They’d go to the movies and on the way run into Vince, skateboarding with his stupid friends, and New Boyfriend would stop and give Vince a piece of his mind. Something that included sentiments like, “I don’t know who you think you are,” and “This is the greatest girl I’ve ever met, and you were lucky you got even a moment of her time.”

But that guy didn’t exist. She had never met anyone who even seemed to consider doing something like that. No. And why would they? Meeting Conor was a case in point. To them, she was just some burned-out—or at least burning-out—pothead loser with a record. She’d gotten caught with weed, big surprise, got probation because it wasn’t that much, and then made the mistake of being the “mostly sober” driver home from a party. Without a license. Right in her neighborhood. It was dumb, yeah, but it was hard to get in too much trouble going twenty miles per hour on empty streets. She hadn’t even been pulled over. Her mistake was in not noticing the bored cop sitting on the street corner, whose eye was caught by a car unloading a bunch of teenagers.