Walking Disaster (Beautiful Disaster #2)

“I bagged her. I mean, I didn’t bag her, we . . .”


Shepley nodded. “Last night was tough for both of you. Who’s idea was it?”

“Hers.” I blinked. “I tried to pull away. Offered to wait, but she all but begged me.”

Shepley looked as confused as I felt.

I threw up my hands and let them fall to my lap. “Maybe I hurt her, I don’t know.”

“How did she act after? Did she say anything?”

I thought for a moment. “She said it was some first kiss.”

“Huh?”

“She let it slip a few weeks ago that a first kiss makes her nervous, and I made fun of her.”

Shepley’s brows pushed together. “That doesn’t sound like she was upset.”

“I said it was her last first kiss.” I laughed once and used the bottom of my T-shirt to pinch the moisture from my nose. “I thought everything was good, Shep. That she had finally let me in. Why would she ask me to . . . and then just leave?”

Shepley shook his head slowly, as confused as I was. “I don’t know, cousin. America will find out. We’ll know something soon.”

I stared at the floor, thinking about what could possibly happen next. “What am I gonna do?” I asked, looking up at him.

Shepley gripped my forearm. “You’re going to clean up your mess to keep you busy until they call.”

I walked into my room. The door was lying on my bare mattress, pieces of mirror and shattered glass on the floor. It looked like a bomb had gone off.

Shepley appeared in the doorway with a broom, a dustpan, and a screwdriver. “I’ll get the glass. You get the door.”

I nodded, pulling the large wooden plank from the bed. Just after making the last turn on the screwdriver, my cell phone rang. I scrambled off the floor to snap it up from the night table.

It was America.

“Mare?” I choked out.

“It’s me.” Abby’s voice was small and nervous.

I wanted to beg her back, to beg for her forgiveness, but I wasn’t sure what I’d done wrong. Then, I got angry.

“What the fuck happened to you last night? I wake up this morning, and you’re gone and you . . . you just leave and don’t say goodbye? Why?”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“You’re sorry? I’ve been going crazy! You don’t answer your phone, you sneak out and—wh-why? I thought we finally had everything figured out!”

“I just needed some time to think.”

“About what?” I paused, afraid of how she might answer the question I was about to ask. “Did I . . . did I hurt you?”

“No! It’s nothing like that! I’m really, really sorry. I’m sure America told you. I don’t do goodbyes.”

“I need to see you,” I said, desperate.

Abby sighed. “I have a lot to do today, Trav. I have to unpack and I have piles of laundry.”

“You regret it.”

“It’s not . . . that’s not what it is. We’re friends. That’s not going to change.”

“Friends? Then what the fuck was last night?”

I could hear her breath catch. “I know what you want. I just can’t do that right now.”

“So you just need some time? You could have told me that. You didn’t have to run out on me.”

“It just seemed like the easiest way.”

“Easier for who?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what it would be like in the morning, loading Mare’s car . . . and I couldn’t do it, Trav.”

“It’s bad enough that you aren’t going to be here anymore. You can’t just drop out of my life.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, trying hard to sound casual. “I don’t want anything to be weird, okay? I just need to sort some stuff out. That’s all.”

“Okay,” I said. “I can do that.”

The line went silent, and Shepley watched me, wary. “Travis . . . you just got the door hung. No more messes, okay?”

My entire face crumpled, and I nodded my head. I tried to be angry, that was much easier to control than the overwhelming, physical pain in my chest, but all I felt was wave after wave of sadness. I was too tired to fight it.

“What did she say?”

“She needs time.”

“Okay. So, that’s not the end. You can work with that, right?”

I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I can work with that.”

The dustpan jingled with the shards of glass as Shepley walked with it down the hall. Left alone in the bedroom, surrounded by pictures of me and Abby, made me want to break something again, so I went into the living room to wait for America.

Thankfully, it didn’t take her long to return. I imagined that she was probably worried about Shepley.

The door opened, and I stood. “Is she with you?”

“No. She’s not.”

“Did she say anything else?”

America swallowed, hesitating to answer. “She said she’ll keep her promise, and that by this time tomorrow, you won’t miss her.”

My eyes drifted to the floor. “She’s not coming back,” I said falling to the couch.

America stepped forward. “What does that mean, Travis?”

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