Page 81 of Bad For A Weekend

I let out a huff of frustration.

“Baylor, listen to me. Your safety is my top priority. Especially when I’m a fifteen-hour flight away.” Seeing the concerned look on his face, I let it go. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him since we’ve never been apart before.

“Fine. Thank you for asking Ziggy’s parents to go in on this. I’m excited to be roommates with him.”

“After Tulum, I’m not so sure,” he gripes but is smiling. “So you’ll come tour some apartments and condos with us next weekend?”

“Sure.”

“We can tour the campus again if you want?”

“Yes, please. I want to get familiar with everything before I get there.”

“Awesome. I’ll set it all up.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anything for you.” He stands and kisses me on the head. “You doing okay? You’ve been off since Tulum.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you and Owen were pretty friendly. Must be hard not to see him every day.”

Hard?More like I feel lonelier than I ever have before. All the good parts of my day are gone. I don’t have anyone I can be completely honest with because if I told my truth, I’d be force-fed anti-anxiety and depression medications. Owen made me feel normal again, like all the crazy, mixed-up thoughts I have are normal. And now he’s gone.

“He was just a bodyguard, Dad.” The words taste bitter, and I want to retract them immediately.

“Good. I’m glad the transition has been easy.”

He disappears back inside. I try to refocus on my work, but my head isn’t in it today. For the millionth time since we left Owen at the airport two weeks ago, I glance at my phone, hoping for a text message. Like every other time, there’s nothing.

I have no way to get ahold of him, and I don’t know why he hasn’t reached out to me. It’s messing with my head and making me think what we had wasn’t as important to him as it was to me. Maybe he just said he loved me so I didn’t walk away from what happened feeling like I’d been used.

No, that can’t be true. It just can’t. If he had only said the words, maybe. But it was more than that. It was the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, and the way he took care of me. All the signs of love were there.

I’ve thought about asking Hudson for his number, but I know he wouldn’t give it to me, and I don’t need another reason to dislike the guy. Maybe Owen is just getting settled. He had to find a new job, and moving back in with his parents couldn’t have been easy.

So instead of getting angry and bitter, I hold on to the hope that he needs more time.

I’m angry and bitter.

It’s been nearly a month since I saw Owen and he hasn’t so much as sent me smoke signals to let me know he’s okay.

All he had to do was text me. That’s it.

I slam my locker shut and head to the cafeteria for lunch. Finals are officially over. There’s an epidemic of senioritis going around, so the mood in the hallways is spirited and fun. These last days of school are a formality, and we know it. The teachers do too.

Yet here I am, moping.

Sitting on the bench next to Ziggy, I slam my lunch tray on the table, telling him my state of mind before I even open my mouth.

“That good, huh?” Ziggy asks, taking a bite of his hummus bowl.

“Owen still hasn’t texted me.”

“Why would he?”

“Because he said he would.”

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