Page 26 of Reclaim Me

My best friend, the angelic demon that she is, rounds the island with a fake smile plastered on her face. “I’m Deanna, Rae’s best friend, and a frequent flier here at the Drake residence, which is why it’s strange that I’ve never heard of you.”

“At least act like you know how to be polite, Dee,” Will warns in a tone far too authoritative for a man who was just crying into a cup of punch. He comes around the island, too, joining our little band of misfits and pulling Indigo into a hug that spells familiarity. “Nice to see you again, Indigo. Please forgive my little sister’s feral best friend.”

With at least one warm welcome under her belt, the interloper seems to relax. “Good to see you too, Will.”

“How do you guys know each other?” I ask, infusing my voice with calm even though my heart feels like it’s being squeezed by a giant, relentless fist.

Hunter, Indigo, and Will all share a look that makes me feel like I’m standing on the outside of a unit I thought I was a part of, the fondness of a shared memory I’m not in possession of alight in all of their eyes. Silently, they agree that Indigo should answer, and she slips back under Hunter’s arm before she begins.

“Well, Hunter and I met at the gym about—” she looks at him, like the words she’s searching for are written on his face, “Two months ago, right babe?”

Babe.

She calls him babe. My hand curls into a fist. The edges of my nails dig into my palm, and I try not to scream when Hunter grins down at her indulgently.

“Three,” he says. “You had just left for New York, Rae.”

“That’s right.” Indigo grins, biting her lip as she brings her attention back to me. “We just clicked, and we’ve talked every day since. I’ve been trying to take things slow, but there’s something about this man—” she pauses, placing a hand on his chest and shaking her head, “—that just makes you want to say the hell with caution and see where the wind takes you.”

Dee folds her arms over her chest, arching a brow at Will. “And where do you fit in all of this?”

“I don’t fit anywhere, Deanna,” Will replies. “I ran into them when they were out on a date a few weeks ago, and unlike you, I’m in possession of something called social skills, so she’s glad to see me again.”

“Rae, you good?” Hunter asks, causing everyone to turn their attention to me and my stunned expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” The lie is already a hard sell, but it becomes even harder when Indigo starts tracing the intricate lines of the flowers and thorns tatted on the inside of Hunter’s forearm with her fingertips. It’s an absent gesture, devoid of purpose or intention but full of meaning. Of intimacy. I blink several times as the tears burning the backs of my eyeballs fight to come forward. “I think I have something in my eye, so I’m just gonna go see if I can get it out.”

The measly excuse comes out as more of a mumble, but I don’t care, and no one, least of all Hunter, seems to mind when I rush out of the room and back up the stairs.

Hours later, the sun has set on my romantic aspirations, and the party, leaving me desolate and hopeless under the cloud of fairy lights Hunter spent all day yesterday stringing through the canopies of the trees in his backyard. Music plays softly, and non-alcoholic drinks flow freely while laughter and food make their rounds, touching the souls and stomachs of every person who’s come to celebrate me.

Unfortunately, I’m no longer in the mood for celebration. Ever since Indigo arrived this afternoon, all I’ve wanted to do is sulk and hide and cry tears of embarrassment into my pillow. Dee wouldn’t allow me to, though. She stood in the center of my room preaching about how worthless men are and chastising me for even thinking about letting Hunter and his girlfriend, who he never mentioned before today, ruin my night.

For her sake, and mine, I tried to push through, and for a while there, I did a good job. I laughed and talked and ate. I did the Electric Slide to every oldie that came over the speakers and sat next to my Uncle Jake while he told me repeatedly how proud my mom would be of me. I even fielded questions about what I planned to do next from my former dance instructor, Ms. Alice, without dissolving into a pile of uncertainty and nerves.

I did everything I was supposed to do, all while hiding my broken heart, and now, I just want to sit with my sorrows for a moment.

My favorite spot in Hunter’s yard is the large oak tree that stands at the very edge of his property next to a lake he once told me his dad loved to fish in. Hunter doesn’t fish here anymore, but he does spend a lot of time sitting on the branch closest to the ground, and he never seems to mind if I sit out here, too. Sometimes, we sit together and talk about how much we miss our parents and how we wish life was a little less cruel. Other times, like before Will and I moved in, and we’d just come over so Hunter didn’t end up having dinner alone, I’d come out here by myself and listen to the cicadas sing.

Tonight, I’m alone, and Hunter is somewhere with Indigo, blissfully unaware that I’m gone, that I’m hurt, that I’m regretting going to New York because it cost me my chance with him.

That I’m doubting whether I ever had a chance in the first place.

The shuffle and crack of feet trampling over fallen branches and grass alert me to the impending arrival of a person I can’t identify because there are no lights out here. I go still, hoping that if I can’t see them, they won’t be able to see me.

“I already told you not to come out here by yourself when it’s dark,” Hunter says, walking up to the branch and stopping just in front of me. I can barely see his face, but I don’t need to in order to know that he’s a mix of anger, worry, and confusion. “The grass is too high. You could have run across a snake.”

“You could have too, but here you are, standing in front of me.”

Two big hands land on the hard wood on either side of my thighs, and he makes himself comfortable in the space between my legs. “I came out here for you. You came out here to, well, I don’t know what you came out here for.”

To cry over you.

I fold my response between my lips and study his face. “You’re mad at me.”

He grimaces; for some reason, he can never admit when he’s mad at me. “No, I just don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in danger for no good reason.”

“I had a good reason.”

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