Page 117 of Cuts like a Knife
I’m vaguely relieved to be done with this whole career, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
It’s like that cheesy Bryan Adams song that was playing this afternoon. Cuts Like A Knife. It hurts, but it feels right, too.
I know that’s not what he was actually singing about337. But whatever. It makes sense to me.
I keep walking. Eventually, I’ll get somewhere. Of course I will.
It’s more than forty minutes later when I finally hear the sound of an approaching car, and moments later, turn to find myself blinded by the lights of a vehicle moving slowly along the narrow road.
As the car pulls up alongside me, I peer through the dark, trying to make out the faces of the people inside.
Suddenly, I feel a pang of anxiety — real anxiety. I’m on a dark road in the middle of nowhere with no phone! What is wrong with me? This is so unbelievably dangerous338.
My brain races over the statistics and I feel my breath catch in my throat.
Then the passenger side door of the sedan opens and Drew steps out. I breathe an immediately sigh of relief.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” he says. His voice is fairly calm, but there’s a hint of recent panic, just under the surface.
“Don’t exaggerate,” I retort.
He shakes his head, moves to open the back passenger side door, and waits until I’ve climbed inside. I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.
Judgement. So much judgement.
Actually, no. It’s more than that. Drew is positively furious.
~
He’s not the only one. I’m so angry and embarrassed, I’m practically vibrating.
Immediately after he climbs into the car beside me, the driver (Damon, because of course it is) makes a u-turn339.
How dare he be angry with me?
My … nether regions are damp. And not in a good way. In an uncomfortable, sticky way. In fact, the skin between my upper thighs is burning, the result of chafing, I assume. From the salt water and being trapped in this damp dress for hours, and hiking along the beach road alone in the dark.
I feel awful.
But I refuse to look uncomfortable. I refuse. This night has not been the best in terms of personal decision making, I can admit that, but I’m deep in it now, and there’s nothing to do but stand behind my choices. No matter how ill-advised.
With that in mind, I also refuse to look at Drew, who is still boring holes in my head with his angry eyes.
He knows. Everyone knows. Or they will, soon enough. Not everything, but enough. And it’s all his fault, really. If he hadn’t been here, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself in front of the entire freakin’ press. I wouldn’t have been so unhinged.
This is what I get for trusting anyone. For trusting him. This is what I get for letting my guard down.
It’s all his fault.
When he finally speaks, his voice isn’t angry, exactly. It’s not even exasperated. It’s strange.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
Instead of responding, I shrug.
“You could have died. I’m serious, Lex. That was … I don’t even know what to say. You understand how bad that was, right? You can’t do things like that.”
“I find it interesting that you think you can tell me what I can and can’t do,” I finally say.
