Page 91 of Lose You to Find Me

“I mean it this time,” she slurs, wobbling on shaky legs as I walk us to the football house. “No more, Caleb. Alcohol is gross.”

“I know, babe,” I muse, trying not to laugh as she groans. We stop every so often when she thinks she’s going to puke but manages to keep it down.

The second her head hits the pillow, she’s out like a light. I manage to get her shoes off, pull the blanket over her, move the waste basket by the side of the bed, and put two painkillers on the nightstand next to a glass of water she’ll need in the morning.

When the sun comes up, I’m there with a stuffed bear wearing a mask and holding a sign that saysGET WELL SOON. I found it at the drugstore when I ran out to get us something greasy to eat to help the hangover.

She stares at the bear for a long moment before moving her eyes upward to me. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

I smile. “I love you too.”

Stopping next to the girl in distress, I ask, “What’s wrong?” and let my hand fall between her shoulder blades. She stiffens underneath my touch for a split second before relaxing when she looks at me with glassy eyes.

Moving hair behind one of her ears helps me see how pale she is. Only her cheeks are flushed as she straightens and turns her body away from me, letting my hand fall back to my side. “Just don’t feel well. I walked past the dining hall and smelled something foul. What’s new, right?”

“I’m sorry,” I say half-heartedly, giving her a quick once-over and seeing the way she cradles her abdomen. “I can grab you some water if you need.”

There’s a tired glaze to her eyes as they meet mine again. “I’ll be okay. I finished my last exam, so I’m on my way home to rest anyway.”

I jab my thumb behind me. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?” I’d feel bad if something happened to her. She’s unsteady on her feet as she straightens out and presses her fingers to her temples.

“I walked,” she admits sheepishly. “I haven’t gotten my car back from Dale’s. Thanks for looking at it, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

I should have known she’d find out. “I told the guys at the garage about it and asked if I could take a look. It was no big deal.” Dale’s brother often stays late to tinker on an old convertible he’s restoring, so he was more than happy to let me stick around when I couldn’t sleep.

“It is,” she counters quietly. “I didn’t deserve that courtesy.”

Choosing not to comment on that, I tell her, “I’ll drive you.”

She looks at me for a second, probably wondering why I didn’t want to talk about her car, but eventually nods. “If you’re not going to be late for class, I’d appreciate it. I’m hoping the garage will get my car in this week so I can get it back before the big storm rolls through next week.”

The sidewalks are cleared off fairly well right now, but I know by the time she would have needed to leave to get here, the town wouldn’t have come by to shovel or salt them.

“I’ve got some time to kill before my next test, so I’ll drop you off and see about going over to Dale’s. If he can’t get it in anytime soon, Ed’s might be able to.”

As we’re walking toward the parking lot, I can’t help but notice the white-knuckle grip on her bag strap that she loosens for a moment before tightening her hold again. There’s something on her mind. She always fidgets when she’s deep in thought.

Falling into step with her, I decide to try lightening the mood. “How are your mom and dad doing?”

If she’s grateful for the subject change, she doesn’t really give it away. Her shoulder lifts weakly as she stares straight ahead at the line of parked cars in the commuter lot. “Okay, I guess. I think Dad may have been over before I got home from Bea’s. It smelled like him—his cologne. I sort of missed it. Their situation is confusing. For a while, I even thought they might get back together.”

Mom mentioned seeing Raine’s parents together around town and asked if they were still going through the divorce. I think a lot of people are confused about their situation since it seems like they like each other more now than they have for years. “Would it be such a bad thing if they did get back together?”

The question has her lips pressing together for a moment in contemplation. “You and I both know that their marriage was never going to last. You’ve witnessed the fights. It was a long time coming. Nothing would change if they decided to try again.”

She hasn’t always been the closest with her parents, which is why she loved spending so much time with mine, but she values her time with them even when she has to endure them complaining about each other to her. I don’t envy her. If my parents were like that…

Well, no. Maybe I’d prefer it if they were.

If all I had to deal with was their separation, then at least they’d both still be alive. Not together, but existing. That’s better than the reality I’m facing instead.

I’m sure Mom would have chosen that fate for them over what she’s dealing with now. Who wants to see the love of their life fade away? They’ve spent a lot longer together than I did with him, and it’s hard watching her watch him knowing what the outcome is going to be. When he lashes out, I see her shrink. When she sneaks away to the kitchen feigning some chore, I hear her little sobs that she tries silencing with running water or other house chores.

So yeah. If I could choose, I’d definitely want a redo. Awkward divorce and all.

Swallowing down that envy, I can’t help but wonder about the past I share with the girl climbing into the passenger side of my truck.

Eventually, the admission that breaks our silence has my posture loosening a fraction. “I was jealous of Emma, even though I had no right to be.” She shifts, hands fiddling in her lap. “She seemed really nice when we talked. And she’s pretty, smart, and kind. On paper, you two make sense. And that…hurt.”

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