Page 5 of The Shot You Missed
“I’m so confused,” my best friend muses.
Yeah, well, that makes two of us.
“What would you say to running away with me for a few months? Not permanently, just long enough for the worst of this whole debacle with my parents to blow over?” My heart slams against my rib cage. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m worried she’ll sayno, or if I’m worried she’ll sayyes.
She shrugs, her shoulders rising to her ears. “I can do social media for my job from anywhere. What, exactly, did you have in mind?”
Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and cross my fingers. “How do you feel about Minnesota?”
two
INDIGO
“Have you spoken to Ryland recently?”Lola glances at me over her shoulder while hefting her suitcase into the back of my baby-blue SUV. It’s getting pretty full, and I hope we can fit everything we need. We can ask my parents to ship stuff, but I’d rather not.
“Why would I speak to Ryland?” I’d sooner sleep in a bed of cockroaches. I am a firm believer in keeping exes in the past. Though that’s a little harder to do when your ex works for your dad.
Lola shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve only been broken up for a couple of months. I wasn’t sure if he reached out when shit hit the fan with the sex tape.”
“He’d have to actually care about me to do something like that.” And that’s the rub. I’d thought we were friends before we started dating. He’s worked as my dad’s personal assistant for the last four years, and we always got along. By the time we transitioned to dating, it felt like the most natural progression in the world. Sure, I didn’t feel fireworks when I was with him, and he never made my palms sweat, but it seemed like he understoodme. Like he got why I shy away from attention and the spotlight. Why I distance myself socially from my parents as much as possible. He was a safe choice.
Unfortunately, as I soon found out, Ryland craves the spotlight. He has big plans and dreams to become the next Hollywood it-boy and write and direct cookie-cutter blockbusters for mass consumption.
I guess he thought dating Robert Bloom and Vivian Marsh’s daughter could help him gain some clout. Walking into parties and premieres with me on his arm would open doors.
If I ever went to parties or premieres.
Which I don’t, despite his best efforts.
After a year, Ryland stopped pretending he was in our relationship for me. Last I heard, he was dating some B-list actress five years younger than him. She’s thin, beautiful, and has perfect skin. I should be sad or jealous, but I’m not.
Which means Ryland Howell ultimately did me a favor by ending things.
The only man I’ve ever been heartbroken over did the breaking ten years ago. I’m not sure anyone else is capable of damaging something I’ve never quite put back together.
Lola frowns. She was never a fan of Ryland’s, but she is a fan of mine, so when it started and he made me happy, she tried to be supportive. The gloves have come off since the breakup. “Well, I’m glad you’re done with that guy. He’s such a tool. You can do better.”
“Yeah.” Except I’m not so sure.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into going to Minnesota in the winter.” My best friend grunts as she lifts her final suitcase into the SUV. “Of all the places you could have chosen, you pick one that requires snow boots and thermal underwear.”
I giggle at that. I doubt we’ll need thermal underwear—it’s the end of February, so we’re not too far out from spring—butLola’s a Cali girl to her core. Which is how I know she loves me. If she’s willing to upend her life for a few months and move somewhere snowy, I can at least be sureshe’llnever decide I’m not good enough. “You know why Minnesota.”
“I do. I think it’s a little crazy, but I do.” She gives me a soft look that says she loves me but is marginally worried I’m on the cusp of a nervous breakdown.
Which, fair.
“Are you going to try to get in touch with him?”
“No.” I wish I was brave enough to try, but I’m not. Besides, what would be the point? He made his choice the summer after our senior year.
I doubt he’d even remember me.
“I don’t get it, Inds. Why move all the way up there to be close to him if you won’t even try reaching out?” We’ve had this conversation so many times, I could quote what comes next like we’re reading from a script.
“I’m a masochist?”
“You’re not.”
