Page 28 of Waiting Forever
I read the text.
My mom wants to catch up and I’m kinda tired. Can we grill another time?
My happy mood crashes like a plate falling to the floor. She must still be angry. Hell, I’m angry with myself, which is why I want to make it up to her. The only way to do that is to be alone and to be myself so we can rekindle the friendship we used to have.
No problem,I reply.How’s tomorrow night?
I shake my head and sigh. I’m making plans with my roommate—housemate?—via text.
I unload the tray and put everything back in the fridge and pantry.
Once again, I find myself staring down the hallway to Kensington’s bedroom.
I deserve this. Ever since I turned fourteen and hit puberty overnight, girls my age and older have been hitting on me, and I’ve been taking them for test drives. I never promised anything long-term, and it was never expected of me. Harper was the first to insist for more.
At the time, I thought, why not? I’d never exclusively dated, and she hadn’t either. We were the perfect guinea pigs. Although now, I think it was more about us trying out the unknown versus us wanting something deeper from each other.
Our relationship was built on sex and partying. That says it all.
I patter upstairs to change into workout clothes. A good beating on the punching bag might help me feel better.
Using an app on my phone, I order two pizzas from the local Italian restaurant—a meat lover for me and cheese for Kensi. She used to like that.
I send her a text, asking her to listen for the delivery guy because I’ll be in the gym, wearing earbuds, and won’t hear the doorbell.
No problem.
I expected questions from her. What kind of pizza did you order, did you get cheese, will there be enough for me?
Rejection is an awful thing. It fuels doubt.Will she cancel on me tomorrow? Did I ruin things between us completely? Is this for the best?
My dad would move me from the Orlando office if he knew I wanted to hit on Kensi. And Mom would lecture me on taking advantage of innocent girls. Heard that speech before—after I spent the night with the daughter of an employee who works for the firm.
She’d hit on me first, but, yeah, I closed the deal. I didn’t take anything that didn’t want to be given. The girl was too experienced to be a virgin. We were both eighteen, but she had an innocent face that made her look younger than her age. Her body was a different story. Curves galore and a nice plump set of real double Ds.
My dad caught me sneaking back into my room after sleeping with her. He had a shit fit, woke up my mom and they both forced me to confess the name of the girl I had corrupted. That was the first night Mom called me a “manwhore.” She wasn’t wrong in her accusation. Even at my young age, I had slept with more girls than I had fingers and toes.
For the umpteenth time, Dad gave me the “VD and unplanned pregnancy” talk and told me to order another box of condoms from Amazon because he knew I wouldn’t listen.
Dad was a ladies’ man until he met Mom, who’s five years his senior. They got married shortly after, but Dad was in his thirties by then. He understands my drive and jokes about it when Mom isn’t around. Kensi’s dad jokes, too, but that doesn’t mean he’s cool with me hitting on his baby girl. It wouldn’t matter if I told him I wanted to marry her. He wouldn’t believe me, and even if he did, he’d insist I wasn’t good enough for his cherished daughter.
Can’t say I’d blame him. I should keep things friendly between us for both our sakes.
13
Kensington
I sit back on the couch and plant my bare feet on the cream cushions.
Small lights on the ground illuminate the private garden outside the windows. Shrubs speckled with tiny white flowers, similar to baby’s breath, blend with the yellow and blue hydrangeas.
The fountain must be on a timer because the water isn’t trickling down the three tiers like it was earlier.
The house seems eerily quiet. If it weren’t for Nathan’s earlier text saying he was going to work out in the gym, I’d swear I was alone in this big place.
In Dallas, I had just moved into a four-bedroom condo when the spring semester ended. Five of us lived there: me, Isa, Serena, and the twins Donya and Lyla. They shared a room, and the rest of us had our own.
We were going to spend the summer partying before fall classes started. I’d known the girls since ninth grade in high school. We were inseparable, until we weren’t.
