Page 50 of Crazy for this Girl

“Because I’m your boyfriend and I asked nicely,” Cal carps back. “Is that hard for you to do for me? You sure like to promote the girlfriend title, but you do nothing to keep it.”

There’s a deafening silence between them before she asks, “Cal…can I talk to you for a minute?”

Without answering her, I hear Cal’s heels hit the wooden planks, then feel his mouth so close to my ear that I can’t fight back the shiver it causes. “I’ll be right back.”

I bob my head because they’re going to fight, probably for the rest of the night, and it’s the perfect opportunity for me to get out of here.

Coming up with a list in my head, I think of things I can do alone for the rest of the summer. Of course, reading comes to the forefront of my brain. I could bake; I like to do that. I’d have to go to town to grab some more supplies, but that’ll get me away from the cabin for at least an hour, unless I walk at a snail’s pace.

I could hang out with Mom.

My nose wrinkles at that idea because all she wants to do is talk about my life and where it’s going. Like I’m not seventeen on the verge of eighteen, with my only concern being to graduate high school. I’m about to have a million decisions thrown at me at one time.

I mean, college is a huge deal.

However, I’m not that old to start making really life-altering decisions that’ll change the course of my life. Then if she tells me one more time to get to know a boy’s financials again, I’m going to lose it.

So, I nix that idea.

Dad goes bowling with one of our neighbors on Thursdays. It’s dollar beer night, and maybe he’ll let me tag along with him. I could help organize Jonah’s Yu-Gi-Yo! cards, maybe plant some flowers, or I could remove that ugly wallpaper in the kitchen that Dad says he’s been wanting to get rid of.

Anything but doing this for another day.

Rising to my feet, I start making my way back, going down the steep hill, when I hear Cal’s voice try to stop me.

“Laynee, wait!” I’m about three more steps before I release a heavy exhale and turn around.

“Yeah?”

He runs to catch up to me, looking confused. “What are you doing?”

I fight back on my facial expressions because he really can’t believe I’m going to stick around while him and his girlfriend argue about who’s about to grab pop.

“I’m just tired. I don’t think I’m over my cold.”

His greens eye me suspiciously before they transform into knowing slits. “You didn’t have a cold.”

“Um, yeah, I did.”

“Blue.”

I inwardly growl at his solemn tone. He’s straight-up calling me out on my lie—purposely, and I can’t double-down. There are rules set in place, for this reason; I just didn’t want them to be used on me.

“Fine,” I clip out through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to be around you fighting. Happy?”

“Stay out here with me for a little while.” He stops when he’s within a foot of me, and I immediately—and maybe for the first time—hate him.

I hate myself for thinking about how many times his perfect lips have touched hers. I loathe the fact that I’ve wanted to run my fingers through his thick hair and smell his neck again on more than one occasion even with Hallie here. I detest why I’m not enough and why he picks dumb girls like the one complaining about taking two minutes to grab a Coke.

“I haven’t gotten to hang out with you for a few days,” he mutters as if he’s sorry about it, but I don’t care.

I shake my head against his begging for my own sake. “I can’t.”

“Laynee…”

“What?” I sound exasperated against his softened tone, my jaw shakes, and if I begin to cry, I’m going to hate myself for my entire life.

I’ll have no way to talk myself out of this one. No way that I could tell him that I wish we could be something more with the promise that our dynamic would never change.

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