Page 136 of Never Kiss and Tell

I slide my jeans on haphazardly with one hand, almost tripping and meeting my demise.

“You don’t need to worry, Dad,” I lie. “I’m good.”

I’m most definitely not good, but admitting that is admitting that I fell in love with Bailey and I’m not ready to fucking do that. Once you say out loud that you’re as infatuated as I am with Bailey, it becomes real. Nothing you say or do can erase that.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

I hang up the phone and finish getting ready. I don’t bother taking a shower. I’m going to be hot tonight and there’s no one to impress at the restaurant, even if I gave a fuck anymore.

That flew back to California with Bailey.

Bailey

I never realized how bad California smelled until I spent time away. The closest comparison to the air in Los Angeles I can come up with is loneliness.

Maybe it’s just me, or maybe it’s being pumped in through the city’s ventilation. Either way, it does nothing to quell the permanent bad mood I settle into as the days wear on at home.

Mom doesn’t speak to me. She comes and goes, leaving me to settle into the dust in my room like a forgotten sock. She must think I’m too far gone.

Savannah is busy most of the time with Spike — yes, he’s still around.

And Mila, well, she’s just Mila.

Three days in and I become accustomed to staying up late and watching old slasher movies in my room with my new friend, Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy. I can say this type of therapy is much more enjoyable than meeting Kenya, whom I still haven’t told I’mback in town.

It’s not until day five that someone barges into my room while I’m spooning macaroni and cheese in the shape of fish into my mouth.

I pause, mid-bite as Mason steps into my room, the noodles sliding back off my fork and into my bowl.

“It’s time to get out of bed.” It’s not a suggestion.

“I’ve been out of bed,” I reply, looking around my room. It’s a mess. Clothes lay everywhere. My suitcases lay, still full, in the corner, like they’re trying to rat me out. Two empty pints of ice cream sit on the stand beside me and if I had any sense about me, I would be embarrassed.

Mason steps further into the room, looking around him like he’d just stepped into an episode of Hoarders.

“Don’t act like your shop is any cleaner,” I grumble, setting my bowl on the stand next to an empty Chocolate Therapy. I pull the covers closer around myself, like they’ll save me from having to leave my cave.

Without warning, Mason rips the blankets back and I let out a groan, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. “Just let me be depressed in peace.”

He shakes his head. “No can do. Come on, we’re going to have fun today.”

Fun isn’t something I want to have. I want to lay in bed and wallow in my self-pity alone because that’s what I do best.

Mason crosses the room to my closet and throws a random pair of shorts and a t-shirt at me.

“Sheep pajamas won’t do.”

I roll my eyes and clamber out of bed and cross to the bathroom. “I didn’t know I was going to a fashion show.”

As much as I hate to admit it, it does feel nice to brush my teeth and wash my face. I skip makeup because with my hair-trigger emotions, I don’t care to deal with the cleanup. Once I’ve dressed in the shorts and the t-shirt, I emerge from the bathroom.

“That’s more like it.” Mason nods his approval.

I never thought spending the day with my brother would be something that would ever happen again, but I’m so happy it did. He takes me around town in Dad’s old Mustang, first, going to a pop-up book market and then, stopping for ice cream at the old dairy shack just off the beach. We take our cones — me going for Oreo chip and him going for bananarama — and walk along the edge of the water. I take my shoes off and let the water trickle between my toes and it’s nice, humanizing. I actually forget about my problems for a moment.

The late June winds blow across the water to us, ruffling my hair. People fly kites, others are out on their boats, kids play in the sand at the water line. It’s days like these where I don’t hate the city I grew up in as much.

“So, who is he?” Mason asks finally, breaking the easy silence that had formed between us.

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