Page 51 of This Life and All the Rest
“I’ve been downstairs waiting for thirty minutes,” she seethes. “I had to call Payton to bring me her key because I got worried when you wouldn’t answer your fucking phone.”
“It was on silent,” he says, his voice still hushed. “Let’s just get together tomorrow.”
My mouth drops open.
No, he is not trying to reschedule a fucking hookup. And he thinks he’s being sneaky? I’m literally right here. I can hear and see everything.
“Macon, I have shit to do,” she scolds. “You’re not bailing on me again. I still have some time, let’s just do it now. If Evelyn’s in your room, we can do it in the living room.”
“Nic, shut up,” he says, then he mumbles something and Nicolette gasps.
“She’s here now?” I hear her say. It’s supposed to be a whisper, but I can hear her just fine. “Macon, you are such a fucker.”
She practically growls, then tries to push past him. He stops her, mumbles something else, then pushes her out the door.
He turns and walks back to me, and I make it very well known that I was watching. I can tell from his face that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say, and I scowl at him.
“Just go,” I say. He winces.
“I’ll just be an hour,” he says. “Evie should sleep, but—”
“Just go,” I repeat. “We’ll be fine.”
He nods.
“Thanks,” he says, then he turns and walks out the door.
I stare at it for a while, my anger fading into something worse. Something I swore I would never let him make me feel again.
Jealousy. Pain. Inadequacy.
I am once again the naïve, stupid girl who wasn’t enough for the boy she loved. I’m the person who tried everything to be what he wanted and failed. I’m left behind. I’m discarded.
I feel myself retreating into memories of before. Before I picked myself up from the floor and changed my direction. Before I finally took hold of my life and became who I needed to be.
I sit down on the couch, put my head between my knees, and breathe through the memories.
I refuse to cry. I refuse to fall.
I choose anger instead.
SIXTEEN
London, 4 Years Earlier
“You sure you’regonna be okay, Len?”
“I told you, I’m going by Capri now.”
I finish lining my lips with the red liner, then add some lipstick. I smack my lips together in the mirror, and Sam laughs.
“Yeah, I’m not calling you Capri,” Sam says firmly. “I fully support this whole reinvention thing. The hair. The attitude. Art school in London. You do what you have to do, and I’m cheering you on. But no way in fuck am I calling you Capri. It’s too chic, and I’m claiming my best friend privileges.”
She plops down on my bed and throws her feet up on the headboard.
“Besides, you can shed everything from your old life, but you’re not shedding me. You’re stuck with me, Lennon.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t bother hiding my smile. Something about that makes me feel better, but I don’t know why. I won’t fight her on this. I’ll give her her best friend privileges. God knows she’s earned them.
