Page 39 of The Downside of Love
Taking a deep breath, I unmute the phone and hold it to my ear. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Hardie’s voice beams. “What about yourself?”
Not wanting to lead Hardie on, I say, “Good. You know how the Springs is during the summer months.”
“Tourist hell. Are you surviving?”
“Barely. Traffic is a bitch.” What kind of old man am I, complaining about the traffic? Next thing I’ll start talking about the weather.
“Always has been.” He chuckles. “So tell me about life. What have you been up to?”
It’s the same conversation we have every time he calls. Hardie asks how I’m doing, I tell him about my stupid-as-shit job, and then he raves about flight school, leaving me in a shitty mood.
I prepare myself for it.
“Just working at the base still. The guys there are pretty cool, some total douche nuggets thinking they’re back in BMT, talking down to the scrubs. I think they missed the memo: we’re not in the Academy anymore.”
“We have them in flight school too. Total idiots. I have a guy in my house that struts around, thrusting his chest out like a goddamn peacock, acting like he owns the damn place. The fucker sucks at his landings though, so even though he likes to pretend he’s the shit, we all know he’s an idiot with the inability to land smoothly. I think he’s a few shitty landings from being demoted.”
“One can only hope, huh?” I answer, feeling numb.
I was fucking smooth as hell with my landings.
One of the best.
“Yeah. Ugh, man, you would have fucking loved the missions we had to complete today . . .”
Hardie’s voice rings out over the phone, excitement bouncing off him as he tells me all about flight school, each experience like a fucking rusty knife straight to my stomach. Feeling like I owe it to Hardie to be responsive and engaged, I listen, adding my two cents here and there even though my stomach is churning, anger building inside me.
Heat creeps up my neck, a sweat breaking over my upper lip as I feel my frustration start to tip over. My veins boil with jealousy. Fury takes over, hitting me over and over again like a ton of bricks.It’s where I should be.
After what seems like forever, Hardie finally says, “Have you heard from Colby?”
“Uh, no, have you?”
“Yeah, he called me yesterday.” My heart stops and for a split second, I think that maybe they know, that someone told them I’ve been staying with Rory. I haven’t done anything, but still it doesn’t look good on my end, rooming with my best friend’s ex-girlfriend.
“What, uh, what did he say?”
“We just talked about flight school, how he was doing. He asked about you.”
Why does this feel like some kind of weird breakup, Hardie the middleman trying to be the peacemaker?
“Did you tell him I’m living the life over here in the Springs, eating up all the Amy’s Donuts my little heart desires?” I joke.
“Something like that. I told him about your drinking.”
For fuck’s sake. It’s not like it was super serious . . . sort of.
“Jesus Christ, Hardie. Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know. I was worried.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry. I haven’t had a drink in three weeks.”
“You haven’t?”
“No,” I grit out, really annoyed now. It’s one thing for Hardie to know about what’s going on in my personal life, but I don’t want everyone to know, especially Colby. And that pisses me off. He has no idea why I had to cut ties with him. In the past, he would have been the only one who had any idea of what was lurking below mylet’s get the fun onStryder. Now? Fuck. I miss him, but I can’t talk to him.And why, if he knows about the drinking, hasn’t he called me?
