Friend Is a Four Letter Word (17 page)

Angry?

Nervous?

I wish I had a decoder.

“Hi, Carter,” she says.

“Shayna,” I nod. “How was your day? What you guys do?”

Quinn wastes no time jumping in. “Okay, so first Ben and I planned to take her to the beach, but she told us that you had already brought her out to San Onofre, so that sort of killed our plan because there’s no way we could top that. So—”

Quinn’s voice fades into the background. All I see is Shayna. I keep my eyes on her while my sister rambles on about avoiding tourist traps and trying to show Shayna the “real” Southern California. Shayna tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and tries to look anywhere in the room but in my direction.

“So, we finally end up at the beach anyway, because by that time it was almost sunset and you know Ben. He’d rather chop of his own god damn arm than miss the ‘perfect’ sunset.’” Quinn says. “Hey, bro. Are you even paying attention to me at all?”

I nod. “Course. Where is Ben?”

“He’s out on the patio talking to his boss or something. Hey, did you bring wine or anything?”

Shit.

Who shows up for dinner, even if it’s just at your sister’s place down the hall without something?

I glance at Shayna and her eyes are finally on me. Wide and anxious. She gives a small nod that lets me know she didn’t breathe a word to Quinn.

“I… spaced. I forgot,” I say. “Sorry. I can run out really quick though. What’d you cook so I know what to grab?”

“Cool, thanks. It’s braised short ribs, by the way. Get something good. No pressure,” Quinn jokes.

“I’ll come with you,” Shayna says, standing up. Her voice is like a choir of angels singing because at least I know she’s speaking to me—even if I know she’s only doing it to save my ass. It has nothing to do with wanting to spend time with me and more to do with the fact that less than twelve hours ago I confessed to her that I’m a card carrying alchi.

“Sure. Okay.”

“Friends my ass,” Quinn mumbles. “Hey, wait, are you two actually going to come back for dinner this time? Or did I cook all of this for Ben and I?”

“Very funny,” I say. “We’ll be back in ten.”

“There’s a liquor store right down the street. We can walk it,” I say.

“Sounds good,” Shayna says. Her legs are shorter than mine, but she’s trying to keep up and match my steps. I glance over and she’s hugging her bare arms.

“You cold, doll?” I ask. I probably should have left the term of endearment off, but it’s habit.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m okay.”

Her arms are covered in goose bumps. That’s one thing about California: it can be hot as hell during the day, but once the sun goes down, it’s a different story if you aren’t expecting it.

I pull my cardigan off and wrap it around her shoulders. “You don’t have to—thank you,” she says.

“So, what do you think? Pinot Noir? Something along those lines?”

“Carter,” she stops mid-step and I feel like she may be about to break the ice. Like maybe there’s a little hope we can salvage things after this morning. But as quickly as I think it, I know that it’s better if she doesn’t. Or at least I tell myself that so that I don’t feel so let down when she says, “I honestly don’t know much about wine. I stick to the hard stuff, if you remember.”

A blast of warm air hits us as we walk into the small shop.

“Do you want something?” I ask, picking up a bottle of Makers Mark.

“No, are you trying to be funny?”

“Actually no,” I say, biting my tongue to cut the annoyance. “I’m trying to be courteous.”

“Courteous?” she repeats, like she’s trying the word out to see how it feels. “Courteous is something you do as a formality. Courteous is what you do to strangers. Is that what we are again?”

I stare at the bottles of wine on the shelves and all of their labels blur together. I want to break every one of them open and suck every last drop out of them until my lips are stained red to match the angry, blazing fury inside of me that I can’t be the guy this girl deserves. That I waited almost a year for her to come waltzing back into my life and now that she’s here, I’ve fucked it all up.

“I don’t know what the hell we are, Shayna. I was pissed this morning.”

“You had every right to be. And I apologized.”

“You did. I appreciate that. But maybe I should have gone with my gut from the beginning,” I say, remembering what she told Quinn. That she wasn’t looking for anything more than friends. That she needed to sort her own stuff out first. Maybe that’s the truth. Or maybe I need to let it be, no matter what it is.

“Which was what? Staying friends? We were never just friends, Carter. Not since that first night in my car. There was always something more between us.”

And she’s right.

“That’s not what you told Quinn,” I say.

“Ah, so you were spying on me this time.” Shayna juts her chin out and shakes her head.

There are a few more people in the store now so I lean in and talk through gritted teeth until they pass us.

“Look, I don’t know what to do here. I’ve never been in this place before.”

“What place?”

I lean against the cooler holding the countless bottles of beer that I so desperately want right now.

“This place where I care more about someone than it makes sense to,” I say. But it doesn’t come out right, it’s not what I mean.

“What?” she asks, jerking her head back and looking a little shocked.

“I mean, I shouldn’t want you as much as I do, Shay.”

“Why? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not good enough?”

“That’s not it at all. It’s me.”

“Right, I get it.” She laughs. “It’s the
it’s not you-it’s me
bit. For as smart as you are, that’s not very original, Carter.”

She takes a step closer to me. Smelling her—the sweet smell of her skin mixed with the citrus of her shampoo this close—seeing her—the sliver of skin between her tits that I know from experience is one of the softest places on her body. Being this close and not touching her, or tasting her is even more torture than this room full of alcohol that is off limits.

“Listen to me,” she says, poking me in the chest. Her eyes sexy slits of indignation. “Neither one of us are perfect. You know my big secret and now I know yours. We’re even.”

“It’s not about getting even. It’s not that simple. I wasn’t supposed to—you weren’t part of the plan, Shayna.”

“Yeah, well, neither were you, Carter. Sometimes shit happens and it’s out of your control. It’s not part of a big plan, but you either roll with them or you—”

“Run away?” I cut her off. It’s a dick move, I know it when I say it but that doesn’t mean I’m smart enough to stop the words from slipping out of my mouth.

“Nice,” she says. “Get the Old Vine Zin.”

She points to a bottle and then storms away.

Fuck my life.

I’m halfway back to Quinn’s apartment when my cellphone rings. I wholly expect it to be Carter and I answer rather than risk having to have it out with him in front of Quinn and Ben.

“What is it?” I blurt out.

“Shayna?” the voice says back. It’s familiar but it takes me a minute to process who it is. “Bad time?”

“Nolan?”

“How are you?” He the same as always: polite, upbeat, and friendly. I still feel a ton of guilt and shame for walking out on Nolan the way I did. Our months together may have been a sham for me, but I don’t really know what they were for him.

It occurs to me that I claimed I liked him as friend, but never treated him like one. I never opened up to him, and I never took the slightest interest in his life.

“I’m—I’m well.” My answer is cautious, because I’m unsure just how much my parents may have told him after I bailed.

“That’s good to hear. Listen, I know this sounds crazy, but I’m in town. It’s a long story but I’d love to take you to dinner if I can.” The friendliness in his voice is tinged with the slightest hint of crazed desperation.

“Wait. What? You’re in what town? Nolan I’m in California,” I explain, half relieved I can dodge the awkward ex bullet for totally unavoidable reasons

He clears his throat and speaks slowly, like he’s making a case for himself. “I know that. I had to make a trip to interview for a position in London. The corporate office is in Los Angeles. When your parents heard I was making a last minute trip out, they told me that you were already on this end. Are you touring schools?”

He’s asking to be polite. Now I’m sure of it. He knows all of the gory details. I’m positive that my parents had a prayer circle to try to heal me and my sins the day after I skipped town. I slow my steps, to concentrate better.

“No, not exactly. I’m just visiting with friends. Dinner, huh? That’d be really nice, but I’ve got plans tonight, Nolan, I’m so sorry.” There’s no way in the world I could skip out on dinner at Quinn’s no matter how awkward it’s going to be. Not after Carter and I left her and Ben hanging last time. She’d never let me live it down. I glance over my shoulder, wondering how far Carter is behind me now, or if he’s even coming back. He may just keep the wine and go back to his place.

I mentally scold myself for the thought. Real supportive, Shayna. Not that he deserves my support right now. He’s determined to be alone, fine.

“That’s no problem.” There’s some background noise that takes his attention away for a second, while I search my mind for an acceptable way to turn him down. “I’m here for a couple of days. You free tomorrow?”

“Um…” I weigh my options. If I go to dinner with Nolan and convince him that I really am doing amazing, he’ll report the good news back to my parents and maybe that’ll lessen their heartache a little. That means more to me than I can process, so the decision winds up being an easy one. Except lunch seems less committal than dinner. “How about lunch? If that’s alright, I can absolutely do tomorrow. That sounds great.”

“Okay, perfect. Let me see where I can get us a reservation and I’ll text you the details,” he says with the kind of in-charge efficiency that makes me doubt if he’s the same guy who struggled to eat spaghetti a few weeks ago.

“Oh, Nolan, don’t bother with reservations,” I rush to say. The last thing I need is a romantic, candlelit meal with the two of us dressed up and totally uncomfortable in every way. “Casual is great. In fact, I’ve got a little place in mind if that’s okay?”

“That’ll work, Shay.” he says. “And one more thing before I hang up.” I press the phone close to my ear, wondering if I lost him when I don’t hear his voice for a few seconds. When it comes through, I can tell he’s embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize for the last time that we saw each other. I know that things ended a little awkwardly and that wasn’t my intent at all, Shayna. I care about you a lot.”

“I know that, Nolan. And I… I’m so sorry, too. I’m really glad we’re going to see each other. I’d hate that last time to be it for us,” I say. And I mean it. “Thanks for calling. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”

Dinner at Quinn’s isn’t nearly as insufferable as I expected. The food is delicious. Quinn outdid herself with the short ribs and pasta. She tells witty anecdotes, talks culinary school and new recipes and keeps everyone entertained.

Until about halfway through the meal, Carter excuses himself.

“I forgot to do something at the office,” he mumbles, picking up his plate to bring it to the kitchen.

“And you can’t finish it tomorrow?” Quinn asks with all the authority of a family matriarch.

Carter shakes his head. “Nope, it’s got to be tonight.”

Quinn looks at me and then back at her brother. “You can’t even wait until you finish dinner?”

“Quinn, I said I had to leave,” Carter snaps. He tosses his napkin onto the table then looks at me. “The apartment is unlocked, if you’re coming back.”

I stare back at him, trying to read in his eyes if he even wants me to. What a shit day it’s been. For a moment I think I can just slide into bed, wearing nothing but Carter’s soft sheets and wait for him to come back from work and everything will be okay. But that’s the old Shayna. The new Shayna didn’t deserve to be lied to and didn’t deserve the way he talked to me at the liquor store.