Fun.
And just a little empty.
But now I know I need to move on. We’re graduating soon anyway. At least I am. I did it in three years. It was a stretch financially and mentally. If Brandon continues skipping classes like he has been, he’ll be at college another year.
First thing tomorrow, I’m ending our … whatever this is. I hope he’s not too crushed. He’s been trying to get me to go out with him for over a year. Honestly, I’m not sure if I was super attracted to him or if he finally wore me down. I’ve made it four weeks. His deep brown eyes, six-pack abs, and devil-may-care attitude didn’t keep me engaged for very long.
I huff and shift to try and get comfortable, hissing again in pain. Yep. Definitely over.
AFTER THE PHONE call from Keri Ann two nights ago, I drove myself straight back up to the Lowcountry. Home.
The wind is chilly this morning. Though I’m rarely up this early to know if it’s colder than most other days.
I bet myself that Keri Ann is kayaking right now and decide I’ll go wait for her at Broad Landing. When I get there, her truck is nowhere in sight. I get out anyway.
The ponds all over Butler Cove Island are rippling with disturbances as alligators seem to be making up for the cold winter that slowed their blood and deadened their limbs. In front of me though, the estuary is almost dead calm. The fresh spring marsh grasses are singeing my eyes with their vibrant green, and Broad Creek, beyond the small marina, is lake-like and glassy in its stillness. I stand and appreciate the view, giving it the moment it deserves. The Lowcountry is a hard place to dislodge from one’s heart. Once a Lowcountry girl, always a Lowcountry girl.
With Jack Eversea trying to get Keri Ann back, I know I should call Joey and let him know so we can all be on alert in case Keri Ann needs us.
Since Colt was there when Jack showed up, I’m sure Joey already knows. But how much do guys really talk? Yet I feel sure about this they would, but perhaps not. And this would be why I am a) looking for Keri Ann so I can get an update and b) debating whether I should do something that makes my palms sweat. Call her brother.
Before I allow myself to weigh the wisdom of my actions, I dial his number on my cell.
The phone against my ear rings in a far off place. I think of Joey feeling the vibration in his pocket and pulling it out, then frowning as he sees my name. Maybe he’s still in bed. A moment of clear thinking makes my hand loosen so I can slip the phone away from my ear. But then I hear it connect.
“Hey.” His deep voice slides with a shudder into my ear and down my spine, wrapping all my vital organs in feelings I’ve spent years trying to keep in check. He sounds slightly out of breath. “Jazz? Is everything okay?”
At least he still recognizes my number … or I’m stored in his phone. Probably that.
“Fine.” I wince at the catch in my voice, clear my throat, and muster my armor, going for teasing. “Yes, Doctor. Just wondering if you’ve been in touch with your sister lately.” I can’t help it, I imagine him lying in bed, the sheet kicked up and tangled around his lower body. “Did I wake you?”
“I’m up, just been for a run.” I hear the muffled rustle of clothing. “Why, is she okay?”
“I guess. Just, uh … Jack’s back.”
“I know.” His tone changes. It’ll cross his mind that I used Keri Ann as an excuse to call him. Sadly, he’ll be partially correct. “Has she seen him again?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I, uh …”
“Anything else?”
I swallow. Humiliated. “I just didn’t know if you knew,” I snap, then suck my lips between my teeth and close my eyes.
His sigh coincides with the rock that drops into my stomach. I promised myself I wouldn’t lose my cool, that I could handle it. Like addicts who promise themselves they can handle one last hit.
Ugh, and I just failed Best Friend Code. I barrel ahead. “Look, it’s probably nothing. She hasn’t called me back since she saw him, so I was worried …” I trail off, worrying now about his reaction to my call. About him reading more into it than concerned friend.
The quiet stretches out. Then I hear clicking, maybe it’s typing. Or maybe the signal cut off. “Jay?” My secret name for Joey slips out. Jay Bird. The awkward scale for this conversation just tipped into the red zone, and I feel a vague wash of nausea.
“Yeah, I’ll call her this morning.” He doesn’t acknowledge my slip, thank God.
I shouldn’t have freaking called. Keri Ann would be understandably pissed at me if she knew. Why didn’t I think this through better? “Please don’t tell her, I—”
“I won’t. I was going to call her anyway and catch up. I’ll see how she’s doing.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll text you after.”
“No,” I say abruptly. “Don’t. I don’t want to go behind her back. I shouldn’t have called you anyway. But I did, so … whatever. Have a good day.”
I move to end the call.
“Jazz?”