Page 75 of Whiskey Lullaby
My mind was jumbled with thoughts of Hannah, of what her dad said, while I finished my food. After I dumped my tray, I headed to the restroom and then out to the car. I climbed into my truck and cranked the engine. Out of habit, I shoved my hand into my pocket to grab my phone and place it on the console, only my pocket was empty. I glanced around inside the truck for my phone, then opened the door and looked on the ground as I retraced my steps. When I walked back into the restaurant, I realized I never grabbed it from the table. Shit, I thought as I hurried toward the booth—the booth with no phone on thetable.
I grabbed the edge of the seat and looked underneath. Nothing. I went to the counter and one of the acne-riddled teens glanced up. “Can I helpyou?”
“Yeah, did anyone grab a phone from that table?” I pointed behindme.
“Uh…” He stepped to the side and grabbed another employee. There was an exchange of words before he turned back. “No, dude.Sorry.”
Tossing my head back, I rubbed my hands down my face. Fate, luck— whatever you called it, was an asshole. “Alright.”
All of my pictures, my contacts where fucking gone! I shoved the door open and stepped out into the hot afternoon sun. As pissed as I was that someone took my phone, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about that in the middle of Bumfuck Alabama. At least I’d put the address in my GPS. Silver lining andall.
33
Hannah
My shift at the ER that night was crazy. There was a pile-up on Highway 280 and the less critical patients were all brought in to us. At least it kept me busy, but once the patients had been transferred to surgery or rooms, the ER calmed down. The rooms were empty, and it was just me and Rachel Thomas. She had been a grade above me in high school. Cheerleader. Pageant queen. We’d said two words to each other our entirelives.
Meg had been texting me all night, checking on me. I told her nothing happened when she picked me up. As always, she knew I was lying. But, for once, I stuck by my lie and told her I just didn’t want to wake Noah, swearing nothinghappened.
Why did I do that? Because I didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe she had been right about him.Dear friends… I rolled my eyes thinking about him saying that, then anger flared in my chest. Not at him, but at myself, because as much as I wanted to be mad at him, I couldn’t. He’d never said we were anything. In fact, that night by the airport he called me a friend. Noah was the town heartthrob. He’d had every girl, then he’d had me. He didn’t even know I was a virgin, I mean, my God, I was twenty. I’d dated Max Summers. I was best friends with Meg McKinney, surely he assumed that entire birds of a feather crap… I picked up my phone, staring at the text he’d sent that morning. Sighing, I textedhim:
I’ll call you when I getoff.
“So,” Rachel said, flicking her strawberry blonde hair over one shoulder as she leaned against the counter. “I heard you and Noah Greyson…” Smiling, she wiggled abrow.
“Oh, um”—heat washed over my face, and I set my phone on the counter—“we’re friends.” I wanted to shrink into thewall.
She rolled a shoulder. “Yeah…” The way she drew at the yeah made me cringe. “I used to be friends with him.” She rolled her eyes. “Charming, isn’the?”
I didn’t say a word, and I’m sure my face gave everything I wanted to keep secret away. “He’snice.”
She laughed. “Nice? Yeah, he’stoonice. He has a way of making you feel like you are the only thing in the world that exists. God, the lines he could spin, and even when I knew it was all a fucking lie, I believed it. He’sthatgood.” She pushed up and grabbed something from the printer. “Look, it’s none of my business, babe, and my experience with him, well,” she shrugged, “it was my experience, but just tread carefully. He’s fucked up and I don’t think he realizes what he does to girls.” She patted my back as she passed by and walked into the one occupiedroom.
I tried to ignore her words. I closed my eyes. I drummed my fingers on the counter. I straightened the workstation.Dear friends.He called me a dear friend after he promised we’d get through everything together. God, how stupid could I have been? I snatched my phone up on my way to the restroom, dialing his number and pressing the phone to my ear when I closed the bathroomdoor.
“The Verizon Wireless number you were trying to reach has calling restrictions which has prevented the completion of your call.” The line wentdead.
I pulled the phone away and stared at the screen with Noah’s name still on display. “What?” I whispered, my pulse slowly picking up pace. I tried the number again. “The Verizon Wireless number you were trying to reach has calling restrictions whichhas—”
When I hung up, I slipped the phone into the front pocket of my scrubs and braced my palms against the porcelain sink. I stared at my reflection, telling myself there was a logical explanation. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was the way his chin dropped to his chest when he was on top of me. The way his lips closed when he said, “Fuck…Hannah.”
My chesttensed.
Meg warnedme.
My brother warnedme.
Myfather.
The damn lady at the beautyshop...
But my mother told me no regrets, and yet, I already regretted it. Not even twenty-four hours later while I was still sore and every step I took reminded me he’d beenthere.
How the hell are you supposed to know what you will regret? Not taking a chance, sure? But that’s a sugar-laced lie, isn’t it? You can always regretnotdoing something, but that regret must be different from actually going through with something and realizing you were inevitably wrong in doingso?
I yanked open the door to the bathroom and went back to the nurses’ station, filling out the paperwork I had left on Mr. Smith.Laceration to the left cheek. Twostitches.
My phone dinged with atext.
