Page 11 of The Second Deal

Iknow better than to send it, butIdo, anyway.

Imiss you too

Ty’shandsome face suddenly lights up on the screen, phone buzzing from his call.

Sighingheavily, my hand falls to the bed andIstare up at the blank, dark ceiling.Isuck in a sharp breath, flick my thumb, and bring the phone to my face. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he drags out in an excited tone.Itdoesn’t cover up all the background noise of conversation, loud music, and people hollering. “Sorry,Iknow you hate phone calls.ButIwanted to hear your voice.”

“Youheard it this morning,”Iremind him.

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.”Hepauses.Iceclinks like it’s right against the microphone. “Look,I’mserious:I’llfly out toSanAntonioin a few weeks, if you want.”

Someonein the background makes whipping sounds. “Ka-cha, ka-cha!Ourboy’s done for!”

Tyguffaws andIgroan softly, rubbing my forehead.

JustwhatIneed.

“Whatever,”Isay. “Justdon’t pick any fights when you visit, okay?”

“Hey,I’ma lover, not a fighter,” he insists.

Guysand girls both hoot in the background.

Irecognize a woman’s voice, a singerIrecorded recently. “Getit,Steph!”

Isnort, grinning to myself.Butthe last time he visited whileIwas still withZakis clear as day in my memory. “I’mserious.Letme get the temperature of the bullshit going on here and we’ll figure something out if you justhaveto visit.”

Tyalmost chokes trying to get out, “Idon’t care what’s going on.Justsay the word andI’mthere.”

Ihave to smack the butterflies in my stomach with a figurative eighteenth centuryBible. “We’rejust friends,Ty.Don’tget your panties in a wad.”

“Yeah,” he affirms cheerfully, butIcan still detect a hint of hurt. “Yeah,Iknow.Buttry telling our parents that.”

Iroll my eyes, suppressing a smile.Growingup, both our parents called us boyfriend and girlfriend—andIknow that’s why our friendship never sat well withZak. “YouknowIwill.Don’thave too much fun without me.”

“HowcanI?Youwere most of the fun, anyway.”

Whenwe hang up,I’mwide awake.SoIget up, put on some loungewear, and grab my keys.

It’sa bad habitIpicked up beforeIleft, driving around in the middle of bum fuckSouthCentralTexas.Butit’s one that doesn’t require me to be creative and forces me out of my head for a while, like being on high alert for deer and other critters crossing the road takes the focus off me being a shitty person long enough to put me in a better headspace for a couple of days.

Atthe end of our road,Itake a left to head south.Theroad curves slightly, and behind that lies the bridge.

It’spitch black down there with the busted streetlight.Tallmesquite trees further obscure the view and create more shadows over the bridge.

Thestreetlight flickers, illuminating a figure standing on the edge of the bridge for a split second before going out again.

Isuck in a sharp breath and grip the steering wheel tighter.

Turnyour ass around right now.

Butthere is no turning around as the side of the road turns into patches of cactus, preventing me from flipping a quickU-ie.

Theonly way around is through and passing by the mystery person hanging out on the bridge.

Thedark figure spins around, facing my direction as the car approaches.

---