Page 33 of Best Friends
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I say nothing. Hesitating, I go to him. I lean in and kiss him, and then say, “It would have been ten times more fun if you were coming.” I mean that too. I love Cheyenne, but Malcolm is my favorite person in the world.
“Yep. But that isn’t going to happen because I’m your dirty little secret.”
I grit my teeth. “Come on Malcolm. I already feel really awful about this.”
He sighs. “Sorry. You’d better go. Have fun and be safe.”
I touch his arm. “Can’t wait to see you later.”
“Same.” His smile is strained.
I hurry out of the room, and run downstairs to open the door. I pray I don’t stink like sex. I’m sure I do since I didn’t even have time to shower. I’m kicking myself for agreeing to run in the marathon. I don’t even like running.
Cheyenne looks annoyed as I step out onto the porch. She’s generally good-natured so her scowl makes me feel extra awful. “Did you forget you signed up for this?” Her tone is accusing.“You did forget, didn’t you? I can’t believe you’d do that, Carrick.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, following her to her SUV.
“That’s not like you.” She presses her key-fob and the vehicle unlocks. “If you didn’t want to do it, you could have just said no.”
“But I did want to do it. I still do. It just slipped my mind.” I climb into the car and buckle my seatbelt, glancing longingly at my house. It kills me to leave when Malcolm is in there. When I agreed to run the marathon, it seemed like a good cause, and I always enjoy hanging out with Cheyenne. But now, of course, I wish I could have just spent the day with Malcolm. A bike ride and a big breakfast with my bestie would have been amazing. Instead, I have to run a marathon while starving and frazzled.
The drive to downtown Whispering Pines takes twenty minutes, and Cheyenne doesn’t say much. I keep glancing at her, trying to gauge just how pissed she is. Her jaw is tight, and she’s gripping the steering wheel harder than necessary. The silence is killing me.
“Look, I’m really sorry,” I try again, watching the trees blur past the window as we drive.
Cheyenne doesn’t respond right away. She tightens her grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles going pale. “It’s not like you to forget things,” she says finally, her voice quieter than before. “But that’s not really what’s bothering me.”
“No?” I glance over at her, frowning.
“There’s something going on with you, but you won’t talk about it.” She keeps her eyes on the road, blinking againstthe morning sun peeking through the windshield. “It hurts my feelings, if I’m honest. I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends.” I shift in my seat, the seatbelt tugging awkwardly against my shoulder.
She shrugs. “Doesn’t feel like it. Not if you’re keeping secrets from me.”
My stomach twists with guilt.
“Is it something with your mom? I know her and your stepdad have been fighting a lot lately.” She gives me a quick look.
I laugh gruffly. “When are they not fighting?”
“Well, if it’s not family drama, what’s going on with you that has you avoiding your friends and forgetting things?”
I shift toward her. “I really feel like you’re making too much of this. It just slipped my mind, that’s all.”
“I don’t know, Carrick.” Her profile is stern. “It feels like there’s more going on. You’ve been distracted at work too.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” I stare out the window at the familiar streets of our small Texas town. It’s not that I don’t trust Cheyenne. It’s more that I’m still coming to terms with what has happened between Malcolm and me. I’m not ready to face people’s opinions on the matter. Whether that’s because I’m a private person or because I’m secretly ashamed of being bisexual, I’m not sure.
“I’m not the only one who’s noticed a change in you. Malcolm’s been really upset that you won’t hang out with us lately,” she says, shooting me a chiding glance.
I keep my face blank. “I’ll have you know Malcolm and I hung out last night.”
“Did you?” She sounds pleased. “That’s great. What did you guys do?”
My face heats and I’m glad she’s driving so she probably won’t notice if my cheeks are pink. “We had a double date with some girls.”
“Really?” She squeaks. “That’s terrific. Just like old times, right? I’ll bet Malcolm was happy.”
