Page 35 of Inseparable
“You don’t want to tell me,” Ayden astutely supplies, leaning back in the recliner as he studies me carefully.
“He gave me a picture. A drawing of me from last summer, and he wrote some stuff on it.” That’s about as much as I’m prepared to relinquish. As much as I love Ayden, and as much as the three of us were close, this is something intimate between Devin and me, and although we’re not even on speaking terms, it doesn’t seem right to show anyone else. He drew that picture, wrote those words, for my eyes only.
His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. “Oh.”
The only sound in the room is the muted noise from the TV, playing absently in the background.
“Have you changed your mind?” he asks. “Are you going to let him back in?”
I chew on my bottom lip as I contemplate how to reply. Mom is humming a song in the kitchen, her soft, lyrical voice reaching us from here. “I don’t honestly know.”
He stands up. “I miss him too, you know.” His earnest eyes pin mine in place. “But he’s not going to change.” He bends down, kissing my cheek. “I’m calling it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Natalie,” I hear him tell Mom, “but I’ll take a rain check. I need to get home.”
“What was all that about?” she asks, handing me a mug of steamy chocolaty goodness.
“What do you think?”
She pats my arm. “Things will right themselves. You’ll see.”
I wish I shared her optimism.
Ayden gives me a wide berth the next day, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. I spend all day considering my options, and by nightfall I know I’ve reached a point where I’m at least ready to listen to what Devin has to say. I peek out the window, but his truck isn’t there. I set up camp by the window for the remainder of the night, but Devin doesn’t return before midnight, so I head to bed, vowing to talk to him in school the next day.
Jack Frost paid a visit overnight, and the roads are slippery and icy as I drive us at a snail’s pace toward school. Ayden is quiet this morning, and I hate that I might be the cause of it. We sit in the toasty car after I’ve parked and killed the engine, glancing at one another like we’re strangers. “This is ridiculous,” I supply, after a few minutes of unpleasant silence. “Just say what’s on your mind.”
“He’ll only hurt you again.”
“You seem sure about that, how come?”
He sighs, pulling his hat off and running his fingers through his gorgeous blond hair. “Because he’s in a dark place, Lina, and he can’t help dragging others down with him.”
I twist around to face him. “Then we can’t abandon him. He needs us more than ever.”
An agonized look contorts his handsome face. Leaning forward, he stares out the window, lost in thought, drumming his fingers against the glove box. I wait patiently for him to process whatever is going through his mind. When he finally turns to face me, a look of steely determination has replaced the previous torment. “Can you just be his friend? Can you honestly forget what he’s done and just be there for him when the shit hits the fan? Because it will.”
I toy with the hem on my shirt. “I can try.”
“God, Lina.” Ayden palms my face. “You’re the best person I know. A far better person than I am.” Pain and self-loathing flares momentarily in his eyes before he disguises it. “I know you’d still do that for him even though he’s hurt you.”
I curl my hand around his face. “I’d do that for you too. In a heartbeat.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I know you would, babe.”
A loud thud jolts us apart when someone slams their hand down on the hood of the Jeep. Brandon and Travis sneer at us through the windshield, making vulgar gestures with their hands.
“Fucking asshats!” Ayden hisses, scrambling out of the Jeep.
I hop out my side, racing around to his side before he does something he regrets. “If you have something to say, jerkoffs, just say it,” he demands.
“We always knew you three were close, but we didn’t know you swapped her around. How does one go about getting on the roster?” Brandon rakes his gaze up and down my body. “I’m in the mood for some fresh pussy.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” Ayden flexes his one good fist, veins straining in his neck.
Josh and a couple of Ayden’s other football buddies materialize on the sidewalk. “If you have something to say to Carter, you can say it to all of us,” Josh coolly states.
“Fucking douches,” Brandon murmurs, taking a step back. “Who died and said you were in charge? Lighten up, jerks. None of you know how to take a joke. As if I’d want to go anywhere near her prissy ass.” He sneers at me, and I plant a bored expression on my face.
