Page 16 of Riding the Curve

Carson.

Just the mention of his name makes my jaw clench. Ryleigh has shared enough over the years they’ve been dating to make me already despise the guy. If you ask me, he doesn’t deserve her. Then again, I suppose neither do I.

“Well, you have the gum, now let’s find your Dramamine,” I say gently, reaching forward to grab her bag to rummage through it. The black bag almost explodes when I rip the zipper open. Things are shoved inside so tightly, I have no idea how I’m going to find a tiny bottle of meds.

“No wonder you couldn’t find anything. What did you do, dump an entire drawer into it?” I jest.

The frown on her lips deepens as she tugs the bag out of my grip with enough force to make me wobble where I kneel in the dirt.

“That’s exactly what I did,” she snaps.

Catching me off guard, her palm shoves my chest with brute force. As I fall backward, I watch as the door slams closed in front of me. Clearly, I have struck a nerve.

Dusting myself off, I stand and begin to put the pieces together. Her suitcase and carry-on weigh a ton, enough to make me decide to sit in the spa this evening to soothe my muscles. The backpack is just as full. Miscellaneous items lay crumbled and tangled inside of her clothes, as if thrown inside in a hurry.

Almost like these three bags consist of everything that she owns.

Rocking back and forth on my heels, I feel the pit in my stomach grow tighter. Henley isn’t just heading to Oakley Falls for a visit.

My mind buzzes with the possibilities of what could have made her leave as I cautiously open her door. Kneeling beside her once more, she does her best to lean as far away from me as she can, folding her arms across her chest like armor.

“Leave me alone.” Her voice is stern, her scowl deepening. Hazel eyes burn into mine with enough fury to give me third-degree burns.

“Let me help you find the motion sickness meds.”

Murmuring something that sounds a lot like a string of curse words under her breath, she shoves her bag toward me. I force my hand all the way down to the bottom when I hit something hard. Gripping it around my fingers, I yank the obstruction free from the bag.

There was nothing that could have prepared me for what broke free.

“Why am I holding a wooden ladle in my hands?”

“Because, I need it,” she snaps back.

Why the heck does she need a ladle? Now I’m even more curious.

Mirth bubbles to the surface as I picture her going through airport security with that in her bag. The image that enters my mind has me lifting my fist to my lips to contain my laughter.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Em,” she growls, swiping the ladle from me. Then she whacks me with the damn thing while giving me the most menacing look she can. Unfortunately, right now it’s about as scary as a kitten using its claws. Incapable of holding it any longer, I burst into a fit of laughter.

“S-sorry,” I wheeze, trying to catch my breath as I wipe my eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to take you seriously while you’re holding that.” Taking a deep breath, I try to rein it in.

“That’s it, I’m calling an Uber. I don’t need this!”

“Hen!” I yell, reaching out to grab her, but she blows past me before I have the chance. Quickly pushing myself up, I rush to follow. When I get to the back of the car, I find her hunched over, tugging on the trunk handle repeatedly.

“Open it!” she screams. “P-please, just open it.”

Desperation coats her voice. She gives up trying to unlock the trunk and leans her forehead against the car. Tremors roll over her body. Though I can’t hear it, I know she’s crying.

“Come here,” I say calmly, moving closer. “Let’s calm down and talk about this.”

Whipping her body upright, she jabs her pointer finger into my chest as she yells. “Don’t tell me to calm down!”

Pacing back and forth, she runs her fingers vigorously through her hair. I reach out for her, but she shoves my arm away and continues pacing.

“Hen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“The last twenty-four hours have been a fucking nightmare!”