Page 131 of Something in Between

Finally, he releases my arm. Then I run toward Kayla and beg her to take me far away from here, anywhere.

46

I didn’t get there by wishing for it or hoping for it, but by working for it.

—ESTÉE LAUDER

IT’S LATE.The thunderstorm outside dumps rain over the house. It sounds like marbles are falling on Kayla’s roof and around the patio out front.

Her mom is gone for the weekend to some hotel hundreds of miles away in Avila where she can do a day spa and not feel like she’s in Los Angeles. Kayla and I are watching a movie about a young astronaut falling in love with a girl who works at a flower shop. Neither of us are really paying attention to the movie or to the rain.

“I feel so bad for running out on Royce,” I say. “I think I ruined his life.”

“No, you didn’t,” Kayla says. “You probably saved it. Jas, you’re both way too young.”

I’m still heartbroken, thinking of the way he was looking at me at the courthouse earlier that day. “I never thought I’d be a runaway bride,” I say.

“It’s not wrong to come to your senses,” Kayla says. “How many times over the past year have I had to wake up from something stupid I’ve done?”

“I just wish I could make him understand.”

Kayla doesn’t disagree.

“What’s going to happen with you and Dylan?” I ask.

She lets out a sigh. I can tell she’s not completely happy. Maybe we’ve both been impatient. “We’re just trying to be friends right now,” she says. She eats a mouthful of Doritos. Ever since cheer ended, we’ve both been on an awful junk-food binge. “We’re taking things slower,” she adds. “We’re working through the stuff that happened when I was with Mason. And I want to make sure he supports my future in dance as much as I support his band. I don’t want to end up as his little groupie. We’re not like Julian and Lo. It’s like they’re thirty-year-olds. We’re barely grown-up enough to decide where to get takeout.”

We both laugh. I tell her I think that’s probably Royce and me too.

“Have you heard from him?” Kayla asks.

“No.” His silence is deafening.

“Have you tried texting?”

“Only about a hundred times.” I check my phone again just in case. “I told him I was sorry, that I still love him.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” I put the phone on a coffee table.

“Maybe you should tell him to come over?” she says.

“I have. He hasn’t answered.”

Just then something hits the window in the living room by where Kayla is sitting. The curtains are drawn, so we can’t see anything.

“What was that?” I say.

She gets up. “Could be your lover boy caught in the rain. I think I saw someone pass the window. He probably thinks my mom’s home so he doesn’t want to be too loud.”

Kayla peeks out the curtains. “I can’t tell because of the rain. Whoever it is dresses nice. That has to be Royce’s coat. He’s pointing toward the front door. Maybe you should go out there so you lovebirds can make up.”

My heart’s beating fast. I don’t care that he didn’t text me back all day and made me worried sick about him. I was having nightmare visions of him racing on Mulholland and getting in an accident. I’m so relieved he’s here. “I’ll just talk outside with him for a minute,” I say.

“Take as long as you want,” she says, lying down. “I might take a nap.”

I slip out the front door. The outside light isn’t on. A neighbor’s dog barks in the darkness. “Royce?” I say, not seeing him. “Where are you?”

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