Page 70 of How We Loved

“What’s wrong?”

“I just had a fight with Ben.”

“Fuck Ben. Why are you even talking to him? I thought I told you I didn’t want you hanging out with him anymore.”

His tone is anything but the comfort I’m craving right now, and I can’t hold back the emotions it causes within me.

“Our families are best friends! I can’t not be around him. We literally went to his house for Thanksgiving.”

“Funny how you just conveniently left that part out. You said you were going to your family’s house.”

“They are my family.” I cry even harder.

“Well, not anymore. Not if you’re with me.”

I pull over, not able to see through my tears. I called him for comfort, and all I’m getting is more pain and his totally flippant attitude.

“You’d better clean up and stop crying by the time you get here. I don’t need my girlfriend crying over another guy while she’s with me.”

I drop my head back on the headrest. I might understand that I shouldn’t sit on Ben’s lap anymore or sleep at his house, but I don’t understand Trevor making me feel like this, especially when I called him, wanting to be comforted.

I might not know much about relationships, but I know they shouldn’t make me feel this way.

So, I put my foot down.

“I’m not going to come,” I say, trying to sound sure of myself, though I’m breaking inside.

“You’re shitting me, right? Get your ass here.”

“No. Tell your mom thank you, but I can’t make it.”

“Whatever.” He hangs up, not even trying to comfort me or talk me into coming his way, which just makes all of this hurt more.

Now, I’m sitting on the side of the road, knowing I don’t want to go home and be alone, but I have nowhere else to go.

I laugh when I think about calling Dalton or Eli. They would be so confused on what to do or how to comfort me.

Instead, I call Natalie, thankful I have a girlfriend I can talk to now.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she says cheerfully.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“What’s wrong?” Her caring tone heals me a little.

My voice cracks as I ask, “Are you home? Can I come over?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be out front, waiting for you.”

“Okay. Be there soon.”

I hang up and turn my car around to head to her ranch.

When I arrive, she’s sitting on the porch, just like she said. I put the car in park, and she runs to me, opening my passenger door and hopping in before I even turn the car off.

“Oh, sweetie,” she says, wrapping her arms around me. “What happened?”

“I got in a fight with Ben and then with Trevor. So, I came here. I’m sorry to interrupt your Thanksgiving.”

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