Page 41 of The Boyfriend Boycott
Grady looks up at the dark night sky, the stars obscured by clouds, exposing the stubbled underside of his jaw to me.
“Okay. If you need anything, I’ll leave the front door unlocked for you. You can come in anytime,” Grady says, angling himself away from me as he heads back towards the house.
“Thanks,” I say again. I watch as Grady leaves me in the driveway and closes the front door behind him. It’s better this way, I remind myself before climbing into the van through the driver’s-side door.
I make my way around and pull the shades down over each of the windows. This is where I prefer to be anyway, in my own bed, my safe space.
Quickly going through my bedtime routine, I wash my makeup off in the kitchen sink, brush my teeth, and throw on my flannel PJs before crawling under my thick duvet.
The soft sound of rain on the metal roof lulls me, the steadyplinkof the drops getting louder, almost blurring together. The wind outside is picking up speed, howling around me, shaking the van slightly.
Just as I’m drifting off to sleep a suddencrackof thunder jolts me awake. I fucking hate thunder. Something about never knowing when it’s going to happen sets me on edge. A flash of lightning illuminates the inside of the van through the clear hatch in the ceiling.
It’ll pass, I tell myself, tucking my duvet up under my chin and squeezing my eyes shut.It has to pass.
Another loud boom overhead makes me cringe. Goddammit.
I yank the duvet up so I’m fully covered by it now. Maybe if I can’t see the light flash, it won’t be as startling.
Crack!
My heart just about stops dead. Well, that clearly didn’t work.
One … two … three …I count the seconds between the lightning, and with the next boom, I can tell that it’s getting closer. The storm isn’t going to pass as quickly as I’d hoped.
I consider my options. You can’t get struck by lightning in a vehicle, right? The rubber tires act as an insulator. I think. I can’t be sure, and when the next flash of lightning comes, I decide I don’t want to take any chances.
The only other option I have is to go inside, into Grady’s house. Nope. Not gonna happen.
Crack!A little shriek escapes from my throat.
I could sleep on the couch … if I wake up before sunrise, I can sneak back out to the camper van and Grady will never know the difference.Still … not my first choice.
Crack!I flinch again. Fuck. I have to go inside.
Once I’ve made my plan, I climb out of bed, and root around for my light puffer jacket, the only jacket I packed, and my rain boots. I tuck the pant legs of my flannel bottoms into the boots and assess the look, praying to a god that I don’t believe in that Grady doesn’t discover me in this ensemble.
My light, down jacket does nothing to protect me from the rain as I hunch over and pull the hood around my face. I can already feel the dampness seeping through to my clothes underneath, sending a shiver all the way through me, chilling me to my bones.
I’m looking down at the ground, doing my best not to trip as my eyes adjust to the darkness, and swiftly make my way to the house, when I smack right into a solid wall of … someone.
Only a psychopath would be out here in this weather.I squint my eyes trying to make out the large shadowy figure in the dark. The shadowy figure then grabs my shoulders and now I’m positive I’m going to die.
Crack!I let out a scream.
Lightning flashes and lights up the person standing over me.
“Woah … calm down, Rebel. It’s just me,” Grady says, catching me by the shoulders and crouching slightly so his face meets my eye level. I push the useless hood off—it’s not doing anything—but the heavy raindrops have already started making my hair stick to my face.
“What are you doing creeping around out here?” I ask, my back stiffening as I realize that the worst has happened. I’ve been discovered sneaking into the house. Grady’s gaze roves over me, taking in my purple plaid pajama bottoms tucked into hot pink polka dot boots.And I’ve been discovered in this god-awful outfit.
“I could ask you the same question,” he retorts.“Cute look, by the way.”
“I asked you first.”I cross my arms over and straighten my posture, letting the rain run down my face until my hair is plastered on my forehead.
“I was coming to make sure you were okay,” he answers, his voice laced with genuine concern. My defensiveness gives way a tiny bit. “Now you.”
I blink twice, raindrops collecting on my eyelashes. I consider how to tell Grady that I was planning on sneaking inside, leaving before he ever knew I was there. Looking into his face now, the way his dark eyebrows are knitted together with concern, I don’t have the heart. I also realize with disturbing clarity that I don’t want to keep avoiding him. Avoiding this.
