Page 34 of Operator
Like he knew it would, it doesn’t take much convincing. “Fine. But you can’t ditch me for other girls the whole time.”
Ian knocks my shoulder with his. “I wouldn’t ditch you, Gwen.” But his tone is more solemn than joking and I sober slightly. Does he know about me and Cal? The thought makes my mouth run dry. I don’t know why it scares me for him to know, but it does. Cal and Ian have been my friends for a long time…I couldn’t handle it if I lost Ian too.
“I know.” I hope he wouldn’t.
* * *
“You can say it,” Ian says with a wicked grin over his shoulder.
“No way in hell,” I answer as I maneuver my suitcase up the chipped sidewalk to my parents’ house.
“C’mon. Admit it. I was right.” He looks far too pleased with himself.
I roll my eyes behind his back and stifle a smile. Dammit, how can a smile hurt a sunburn? Oh right, because I have skin that burns at the slightest hint of sunshine and I’d spent a week—a blissful week—in the sunshine state. Despite the gobs and gobs of sunscreen and aloe, it was still tender to the touch. At least the stinging was gone.
Ian turns and guffaws.
“What?” I ask indignantly.
“Your face. I can’t believe you’re still peeling.”
I debate for a moment if it would hurt too much to slap him. It probably would, so I settle for sailing past him, carefully, into the house. My parents decided to stay an extra week in Florida, so I had the house to myself.
“Oh, come on,” Ian calls after me, his voice still full of laughter. “I was only joking.”
“Very funny,” I retort, then head to the bathroom to pee and check my reflection in the mirror.
He wasn’t wrong. My face is a patchwork of new and old skin. After I use the bathroom, I apply more moisturizer, which helps, or at least that’s what I tell myself. But it doesn’t matter, it’s only Ian. Who cares what I look like?
I find him in the living room scrolling through the TV. “Mind if I stay for a while? I’m not exactly itching to get back home yet.”
“Sure.” I don’t tell him, but I’m not exactly itching to be alone either. The trip to Florida helped, but I know the moment I’m alone, it will allow my thoughts and fears to come back a hundred-fold. “What do you want to do?”
“Let’s just chill. Wanna watch a movie?”
I hesitate, then give myself a shake. This is Ian. We’ve done exactly this a thousand times. That’s why I didn’t worry about going to Florida with him. Not that there’d be anything to worry about.
While he searches for something to watch, I take my seat next to him on the couch. Pulling out my phone, I check my texts, email, and social media for approximately the millionth time since Callum left. Nothing. Not a damn thing.
So it’s really over. If he’d wanted to take it back, he would have done it by now.
He’s really gone.
Dammit, I’m not going to cry.
I swallow hard and force myself to watch the TV, although I don’t take in anything from whatever superhero movie Ian’s put on. It had taken four of the seven days we were in Florida, but I’d come to the conclusion that I can’t wait on Cal. Not this time. I’d given him too much and had received nothing in return. I don’t deny some of the blame lies with me. I knew he was leaving—I just didn’t think he’d take most of my heart with him when he did.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Ian asks, and I glance over to find him studying me. “And don’t lie and tell me nothing. I think we both know there’s something wrong. Is it Cal?”
My heart stops. “Wh—what?” I trip over the word.
“You’re worried about him, right? I know you know what he does, but I promise he’ll be okay. He’s the best at what he does, and he told me the area they’re going to isn’t as much of a hotspot as they’d anticipated.”
For a moment, I thought he knew. I have to focus on relaxing my muscles one by one. “You’ve talked to him? He’s okay?” The words are like a gob of peanut butter in my mouth. It’s an effort to spit them out. He’d called Ian, but not me.
“He’s fine, I promise. You know Cal. It’ll take more than a deployment to kill him.”
“You’re right. I’m glad he’s okay.” That’s it, then. If he wanted to talk to me, he would. If he wanted to apologize, beg me to forgive him, he would have done it by now.
