“Damn it! The food’s not here yet?” I asked, sliding into the booth next to Abby. Her phone lay on the table, so I picked it up, turned on the camera, made a stupid face, and snapped a picture.
“What the hell are you doing?” Abby said with a giggle.
I searched for my name, and then attached the picture. “So you’ll remember how much you adore me when I call.”
“Or what a dork you are,” America said.
America and Shepley talked most of the time about their classes and the latest gossip, taking care not to mention anyone involved in the scuffle earlier.
Abby watched them talk with her chin rested on her fist, smiling and effortlessly beautiful. Her fingers were tiny, and I caught myself noticing how naked her ring finger looked. She glanced over at me and leaned over to playfully shove me with her shoulder. She then righted herself, continuing to listen to America’s chatter.
We laughed and joked until the restaurant closed, and then crowded into the Charger to head home. I felt exhausted, and even though the day seemed long as hell, I didn’t want it to end.
Shepley carried America up the stairs on his back, but I stayed behind, tugging on Abby’s arm. I watched our friends until they went into the apartment, and then fidgeted with Abby’s hands in mine. “I owe you an apology for today, so I’m sorry.”
“You’ve already apologized. It’s fine.”
“No, I apologized for Parker. I don’t want you thinking I’m some psycho that goes around attacking people over the tiniest thing,” I said, “but I owe you an apology because I didn’t defend you for the right reason.”
“And that would be . . . ,” she prompted.
“I lunged at him because he said he wanted to be next in line, not because he was teasing you.”
“Insinuating there is a line is plenty reason for you to defend me, Trav.”
“That’s my point. I was pissed because I took that as him wanting to sleep with you.”
Abby thought for a moment, and then grabbed the sides of my shirt. She pressed her forehead against my T-shirt, into my chest. “You know what? I don’t care,” she said, looking up at me with a smile. “I don’t care what people are saying, or that you lost your temper, or why you messed up Chris’s face. The last thing I want is a bad reputation, but I’m tired of explaining our friendship to everyone. To hell with ’em.”
The corners of my mouth turned up. “Our friendship? Sometimes I wonder if you listen to me at all.”
“What do you mean?”
The bubble she surrounded herself with was impenetrable, and I wondered what would happen if I ever did make it through. “Let’s go in. I’m tired.”
She nodded, and we walked together up the stairs, and into the apartment. America and Shepley were already murmuring happily in their bedroom, and Abby disappeared into the bathroom. The pipes shrieked, and then the water in the shower beat against the tile.
Toto kept me company while I waited. She didn’t waste time; her nightly routine was complete within the hour.
She lay on the bed, her wet hair resting on my arm. She breathed out a long, relaxing breath. “Just two weeks left. What are you going to do for drama when I move back to Morgan?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I didn’t want to think about it.
“Hey.” She touched my arm. “I was kidding.”
I willed my body to relax against the mattress, reminding myself that for the moment, she was still next to me. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. I needed her in my arms. Enough time had been wasted. “Do you trust me, Pidge?” I asked, a little nervous.
“Yeah, why?”
“C’mere,” I said, pulling her against me. I waited for her to protest, but she only froze for a few moments before letting her body melt into mine. Her cheek relaxed against my chest.
Instantly, my eyes felt heavy. Tomorrow I would try to think of a way to postpone her departure, but in that moment, sleeping with her in my arms was the only thing I wanted to do.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tomorrow
TWO WEEKS. THAT WAS ALL I HAD LEFT TO EITHER ENJOY our remaining time together, or somehow show Abby that I could be who she needed.
I put on the charm; pulled out all the stops; spared no expense. We went bowling, on dinner dates, lunch dates, and to the movies. We also spent as much time at the apartment as possible: renting movies, ordering in, anything to be alone with her. We didn’t have a single fight.
Adam called a couple of times. Even though I made a good show, he was unhappy with how short the fights lasted. Money was money, but I didn’t want to waste any time away from Pidge.
She was happier than I’d ever seen her, and for the first time, I felt like a normal, whole human being instead of some broken, angry man.
At night we would lie down and snuggle like an old married couple. The closer it came to her last night, the more of a struggle it was to stay upbeat and pretend I wasn’t desperate to keep our lives the way they were.
The night before her last night, Abby opted for dinner at the Pizza Shack. Crumbs on the red floor, the smell of grease and spices in the air, minus the obnoxious soccer team, it was perfect.
Perfect, but sad. It was the first place we’d had dinner together. Abby laughed a lot, but she never opened up. Never mentioned our time together. Still in that bubble. Still oblivious. That my efforts were being ignored was at times infuriating, but being patient and keeping her happy were the only ways I had any chance of succeeding.
She fell asleep fairly quickly that night. As she slept just a few inches away, I watched her, trying to burn her image into my memory. The way her lashes fell against her skin; the way her wet hair felt against my arm; the fruity, clean smell that wafted from her lotioned body; the barely audible noise her nose made when she exhaled. She was so peaceful, and had become so comfortable sleeping in my bed.
The walls surrounding us were covered with pictures of Abby’s time in the apartment. It was dark, but each one was committed to my memory. Now that it finally felt like home, she was leaving.
The morning of Abby’s last day, I felt like I would be swallowed whole by grief, knowing we would pack her up the next morning for Morgan Hall. Pidge would be around, maybe visit occasionally, probably with America, but she would be with Parker. I was on the brink of losing her.
The recliner creaked a bit as I rocked back and forth, waiting for her to wake. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. The silence weighed down on me.
Shepley’s door whined as it open and closed, and my cousin’s bare feet slapped against the floor. His hair was sticking up in places, his eyes squinty. He made his way to the love seat and watched me a while from under the hood of his sweatshirt.
It might have been cold. I didn’t notice.
“Trav? You’re going to see her again.”
“I know.”
“By the look on your face, I don’t think you do.”
“It won’t be the same, Shep. We’re going to live different lives. Grow apart. She’ll be with Parker.”
“You don’t know that. Parker will show his ass. She’ll wise up.”
“Then someone else like Parker.”
Shepley sighed and pulled one leg onto the couch, holding it up by the ankle. “What can I do?”