Hands Down Page 25
Disappointment shaped like a sledgehammer hit me right in the center of the chest.
Did he forget I was here?
Something hot and uncomfortable layered itself over my sternum, and I turned again to see if he had come back and was just… being quiet. Wishful fucking thinking, and I knew it was. I knew it.
Quietly, as freaking quietly as I could, I scooted off the stool that my butt had molded itself to and crept toward the staircase.
Unless he had an invisibility cloak on, he wasn’t there. Something that could have been his voice floated down the stairs. He’d given me the finger to ask me to wait for him…
But that had been an hour ago.
Who the hell talked on the phone for that long? Okay, maybe me with my sister, but I’d get off the phone with her if I had something to do or someone was visiting.
It’s probably something really important, my brain tried to reason.
But….
I did have things to do. And apparently so did Zac.
Things that didn’t include me after all.
Chapter Six
I spent the entire ride to the grocery store trying my best not to be disappointed about what happened at Zac’s place.
More like… what hadn’t happened.
But like most things, it was easier said than done, like when my New Year’s resolution was to wake up at five in the morning every day to work out before my shift. I hadn’t taken into consideration that I rarely went to bed before two in the morning.
The truth was, I was disappointed in how disappointed I was.
I knew better.
I had gone there with the intention of apologizing, and I hadn’t done that.
Because I’d been forgotten. For not the first time in my life.
My stomach felt off no matter how much I “understood” that Zac was “famous” and probably had a ton of things going on. He was busy with his own life. I was busy with my life, and of course he was even busier than me. He’d invited me when he’d thought he had a moment and didn’t I know things came up? Of course I got it. There had been plenty of times when I’d had to pull over or go straight home from work because something had happened to my website, or if I got an email about a mistake someone had found on a video or a post and I had to do damage control.
I told myself that Zac had asked me to come over because he’d wanted to see me.
And I was disappointed because I’d literally seen him for maybe five seconds from a distance.
If something wouldn’t have been happening, he would have come down. But I’d met CJ, and he’d known who I was and had even made one of my recipes. That should have been enough. It would have been more than enough in any other situation.
But my stomach—and my heart—didn’t give enough of a shit.
Because that molasses-like layer of “my friend had bailed on me” didn’t really go anywhere on the drive or during my shopping trip.
Telling yourself something and believing it were two totally different things.
But the call that came to my cell while I was in line at the checkout counter had helped. Some.
I’d been surprised as shit when my phone started ringing while I was loading my groceries onto the conveyor belt and taken a peek at the screen to see 512-555-0199 flash across the screen.
I looked at the number for a second and thought about not answering it. But I did it anyway, because I wasn’t an asshole. Because I had wanted to try.
I just wasn’t going to put much weight into any of my interactions with Zac, mostly because I wasn’t going to expect anything.
If you didn’t have expectations, you couldn’t be let down.
Before I could second-guess myself, I answered the phone… and kept loading my groceries.
“Hello?” It wasn’t like I didn’t know it was him, but my feelings were a little hurt regardless of knowing better.
“Aww, darlin’, I’m so damn sorry,” the voice that was only still familiar because I’d heard it on television piped up over the line just as I set my vanilla creamer onto the conveyor belt.
I made a face to myself and glanced up to see the cashier watching me. I forced a smile.
“Are you close? Can you come back?”
Go back to his house?
Some part of me was tempted to say yes. I would have liked to talk to him. Listen to that voice that had felt like a warm hug back in the day. Watch a face that had smiled at me what felt like a hundred thousand times. Maybe hear a laugh that I’d heard almost as much. And say I was sorry for being so weird at dinner.
But what would you really have to talk about? What’s the point? My brain tried to whisper… and I couldn’t exactly ignore it.
My heart gave this painful little twist I tried to ignore, but failed at doing so.
He’d left me downstairs alone for almost an hour. After inviting me over. I had shit to do.
I smiled at the employee behind the register once more as I finished loading the rest of my heavy stuff: milk and a bag of potatoes. “I’m not by there anymore.” I wasn’t bitter he was barely getting around to noticing I’d left. “And I’m checking out at the grocery store now. Can I call you when I’m done?” I had to blink my eyes as another swell of disappointment went through my chest at having been forgotten. Again.
It was my own fault for feeling this way, and it was up to me to dig my way out of it. I had gone over there with the best of intentions, wanting to make up for how I’d behaved, and goddamn it, I was going to go through with it. To an extent.
“By the way,” I said, “I left some scones on the counter for you. They aren’t full-sized, but… if you don’t like them, just give them to CJ.”
There, no pressure on him. If he didn’t like them, at least his roommate had. He wouldn’t have to feel bad about not enjoying them. Also, I told him about them instead of letting them rot away on the counter. Look at me trying to be mature.
There was a beat of silence, and then another, and I frowned as I handed over my grocery bags to the bagger and asked, “You there?”
“Yeah,” my old friend replied after a second. “I’m real sorry, honey. You sure you can’t make it back? You can put your things in the fridge….”
I didn’t want to be this person, did I? The one who got all upset when I knew better, when he didn’t owe me a freaking thing. I could be polite and still watch out for myself. Do what was best for me. I had tried, and that had to be enough. If anything, this was all just another sign of how this friendship between us hadn’t been meant to be.
I could read the signs. I’d closed my eyes to them a bunch of times in my life, but I’d learned my lesson by now. Just because you close your eyes and pretend something isn’t there, doesn’t make it go away.
“Thanks, but I have something I need to do.” Make dinner and watch TV. I hesitated for a second. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
There was another pause, then, “I thought you were gonna call me when you got home?”
Yeah, I’d been lying out of my ass when I offered to. But it was for the best. For me, and probably for him too. He didn’t need to be wasting time. From the sounds of it, he had enough shit to deal with.
So even though I didn’t want to, even though it hurt a little, I still said it because I was going to be nice, because I didn’t harbor resentment over the past anymore. “I’ll talk to you later, Zac.”