After an hour, I headed downstairs to find my father and Debbie in the living room. I said a quick good morning and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
I looked at my phone for the first time in twelve hours. I had a bunch of unanswered texts from Maggie. I simply texted her back, Meet up for lunch to talk? I made my coffee as I waited for her to reply, and when she did, I grabbed my car keys, grateful to get out of the house without having to face Blake. I needed time to deal with my budding emotions, and I didn’t know how to interpret his actions. Was he just being protective like a brother? The way he held me last night made me think otherwise.
I was crunching on a salad as Maggie drilled me with questions. My body was grateful for the food, and my headache faded. “Look, I’m just done with guys for a while,” I said to her after she ranted for twenty minutes about what had happened between Brad and me.
“I don’t blame you,” she agreed, then asked curiously, “So how did you get home?”
Staring intently at my salad, I said, “Blake was there. I rode home with him.”
“Wasn’t he with his girlfriend?” Maggie asked, disgust in her voice.
Maggie had hated Brittney since we were in high school together. Brittney had been horrible to me all senior year, and she was always making nasty comments. I was over it, but Maggie tended to be a little more dramatic than me.
I thought about the party, remembering that Blake was with Brittney at the beginning and that they had seemed pretty close, dancing together and her clinging onto him throughout the night. I wondered if they had gotten into an argument or something. I shook my head and told Maggie, “I don’t really remember what happened. It was late, and I wasn’t exactly sober.”
Maggie and I finished lunch and headed to the mall to do some shopping. I didn’t really need anything, but I wanted to avoid going home for as long as possible. We were walking around the mall when my phone vibrated with a text message from my father. Family dinner. Be home by 6.
With a sigh, I told Maggie we had to go soon, and I had a nagging feeling in my stomach as I drove home. I walked in the house, greeting my father and Debbie, and took my bags upstairs. I quickly changed and headed back down.
“So, where we going?” I asked, joining them, noticing Blake still wasn’t downstairs.
“Your father made reservations at a new restaurant downtown,” Debbie said, smiling at him.
“Great.” Our traipsing round the mall had made me hungry. As casually as possible, I asked, “Is Blake joining us?”
“Absolutely.” A snarky voice came from behind me. I whipped around to see Blake descending the stairs.
“Alrighty then,” Dad said, and we followed him outside and piled into his SUV.
I spent the long ride to the restaurant contemplating whether or not I should talk to Blake about last night. We seemed to have a really bad habit of ignoring the things we did and not talking about them. Obviously, this wasn’t working, and we kept finding ourselves in the same confusing, hazy situations, patching over everything and not dealing with our emotions. It didn’t feel clever or healthy, so I decided I would try and talk to him after dinner, a heavy knot roiling in my stomach just thinking about it. Getting everything out in the open would put everyone back in the place they belonged.
After a long dinner of catching up with my father and Debbie, I was relieved to finally get home. I thanked Dad for dinner and went upstairs, my hands clammy and a little shaky at the prospect of talking to Blake. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on his door, and he yelled for me to come in.
“Hey.” I greeted him, entering the room. He was playing a video game and paused it. Tossing the controller aside, he looked at me expectantly. I crossed my arms, shifting awkwardly. My palms were sweaty, and I was nervous, starting to doubt the effectiveness of this idea. I stayed where I was, forcing myself to do what needed to be done.
“What’s up?” Blake asked with a frown after my silence stretched uncomfortably.
“Look, Blake…” I began awkwardly. “I want to talk about last night.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked bewildered and even a little embarrassed by the mention of our emotional moment. “Don’t worry about it,” he finally said nonchalantly, trying to smooth over the situation with his usual, cool-guy persona. “We were both drinking, and you were upset about Brad.”
“Right,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “I just feel like we have to be…more careful.” My tone was neutral, but his look told me he knew I meant the past incidents between us. Something flickered in his eyes, and I looked away, trying not to think about the hot, desperate kisses we had shared. “It’s just… Our parents seem really happy, and I think we’re going to have to be around each other for a long time. I don’t want to risk complicating anything,” I said, watching his reaction carefully.