Page 102 of Hot Shot
I rub my forehead, feeling a tension headache starting. Talking to a friend shouldn’t make me feel this way.
With that realization, I make a decision that, if I’d made it months ago, would have prevented all of this from happening. I wasn’t strong enough to make it then, but I’m strong enough now.
“We’re done. Don’t call me anymore. Stay away from Hunter.”
There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a moment before he says, “Mads, please.”
“No, Elliot. You lost that right when you did what you did.” Before he can reply I hang up.
He calls me back. I hit the Ignore button.
With shaking fingers, I go into my contacts and block him. I drop my phone onto the couch, and the tears start to fall.
Our relationship is over. There’s no coming back from what he did to me. He betrayed my trust.
Our relationship was probably over a year ago, but I had hoped we could find our way back to friendship. Well, no more.
Sitting on the couch, I cry for my failed friendship, for the boy who protected me in school, who helped me up when I fell down. I say a silent prayer that he can figure himself out and find happiness, but it won’t be with me.
I don’t know how long I cry for, but eventually, I have no more tears. I take a shaky inhale, wipe my face, and go back to the guest room I’ve been staying in. I climb into bed, pull the heavy comforter over my body, and close my eyes.
Voices jar me awake, and for a moment, I’m confused about where I am.
When the room comes into focus and the past ten days come slamming back to me, I groan. I shove the covers back and get out of bed, trying to figure out who’s downstairs.
Realistically, I know it’s probably Aunt Judy and Curtis, but at this point, I wouldn’t put it past Rachel to have found the spare key and let herself in. I pad down the stairs and into the living room to see Aunt Judy and Curtis on the sofa drinking tea.
“Hello,” I mumble.
“Good, you’re up. How about a cup of tea?” Judy gets to her feet.
“I’m good, thanks. What are you doing back already? I wasn’t expecting you until Tuesday.”
Judy blinks at me before glancing over at Curtis. “It is Tuesday, dearie.”
“I guess I lost track of days,” I mumble with a wave of my hand as I walk to the kitchen, suddenly starving. Unsurprising since I slept for an entire day.
“What’s going on?” she asks as she follows me into the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” I open the fridge and pull out a dish of leftovers.
“Dearie, I already spoke to your father. I know what went on while we were gone. What I don’t understand is why you’re wallowing. Everything turned out okay. Didn’t it? Your father is worried about you. He said you were ignoring his calls.”
“I’ve been busy.” Part of me is annoyed that she’s asking all these questions, but part of me is glad that someone’s stepped in to ask what’s wrong. I know I’ve been spiraling, and I haven’t been strong enough to pull myself out of it.
“Sleeping? Good grief, sweetie, when was the last time you got out of the house?”
I grab a bowl and serve myself some leftovers. “There have been reporters camped outside. I didn’t want to deal with them.”
“Well, they’re gone now. When was the last time you showered?” She wrinkles her nose, eyeing me up and down.
Instead of answering I put my bowl in the microwave. Come to think of it, I don’t remember when I showered last.
That’s when I realize the Storm shirt I’m wearing has stains from the ice cream I dropped on it three nights ago.
Shit, I really am a mess.
I push down the overwhelming urge to cry and grab my food out of the microwave, then take a seat at the table. Judy silently moves to the sink and starts washing the dishes that I’ve let pile up.
