“Are you listening to yourself? What issues do you have? Because to me, it sounds like your only issues are those that deal with her. Not once in this conversation have you brought up the past as being a problem. Your problem is that you’re in love with a girl, and you let her go. So get off your ass and fucking get her. Stop thinking so damn hard, you’ll give yourself an aneurysm.”
Well that’s a huge dose of clarity if I’ve ever had one. It’s like he just whacked me upside the head with a two-by-four of truth.
I’m silent for a moment while I think, and realize Trey’s right. Several weeks have passed since I last sat and thought entirely about Harper. Since I felt a crushing weight of guilt at the slightest thought of her. Even the random phone calls from Brent don’t carry the same heaviness they first did a few months ago.
Scrubbing my forehead, I sigh. “It’s because of Tatum.”
“What?” Trey asks quietly.
“Almost immediately after I began to focus on Tatum, I started to feel less guilty about Harper. That weekend, where we met you at the bar, was a rough one. I couldn’t help thinking of all the ways I failed Harper and how I was no good for Tatum. How I’d eventually let her down too. But when I think about it, it’s almost like that got Harper out of my system. All my energy has been focused on one person over the past several weeks.”
The trademark, carefree grin spreads across Trey’s face. “What’d I tell you, man?”
“You gloat, I’m gonna kick your ass. Besides, this isn’t over yet. I have some things to take care of before I talk to Tatum. Loose ends to tie up.”
Trey stands and walks to the office door, opening it. We both step into the hallway and walk towards the entrance. “Don’t take too long. She doesn’t seem like a patient girl if I remember correctly.”
Faster than I knew I was capable, I turn and slug Trey in the shoulder.
“Dude!” he cries.
“Don’t ever think about kissing her again,” I hiss through clenched teeth. Trey bursts out in a laughing fit, bent double and clutching his abdomen.
“You’ve got it so bad!” he replies laughing the entire time.
“I mean it.”
Trey lifts two fingers in the air. “Boy scouts promise.”
“Fuck off. You weren’t a Boy scout.”
“I know,” Trey replies with a wink.
I’m about to punch him again when we’ve reached the entrance, and the door is propped open by none other than Tatum. My heart clenches at the sight of her. She looks utterly exhausted and worn. Her hair is tied on the top of her head in a loose bun, tendrils floating around her face and neck. She has some purplish spots beneath her eyes, and her skin just looks dull. She doesn’t look quite ill but she looks…off. I don’t like it. This is my fault, and I’m going to do everything I can to fix it. I just need a little bit more time.
“Uh, hey, Tatum,” Trey greets, his cheery welcoming falling just this short of genuine. It’s obvious he’s feeling the tension between us and doesn’t know how to react.
“Hey,” she replies while looking at her feet. Christ, she’s cute. I’d give just about anything to tilt her chin up, kiss the tip of her nose, and do something to make her grin. The tiredness in her features is tying my stomach in knots. I need to sort my shit, then I can sort out us.
“You looking for me?” I ask, rather stupidly. Who else would she be here to see?
Tatum fidgets with her black wristband on her left arm causing my eyes to zero in on the dark piece of fabric. Are there more cuts hiding underneath there since the last time I saw them? The thought of her hurting herself again makes me physically sick. Shit, I haven’t been there for her. What if she needed me?
“Actually,” she begins, cutting off my train of thought, and my eyes snap from her wrist to her face. “I’m here to see Trey.” She fidgets from foot to foot as though she’s nervous. What the fuck.
My eyes flicker over to Trey, and a vein of relief slithers through me that he seems as equally perplexed as I do. He doesn’t know why Tatum is here. I can end any suspicions of him backstabbing me before they take flight.
But then why is she here?
“Uh, sure. You takin’ me up on my offer to work out?” Trey jokes lightly, attempting to ease the heavy atmosphere.
“Not exactly. Um, can we, uh, talk in private?”
Fuck. Me.
My eyes snap back to Trey’s, and he gives me a minute shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders. If I didn’t already trust the guy with my life, I’d think he was up to something behind my back. But he wouldn’t betray me.
Which leaves me with…
Is she trying to betray me?
“Yo, Jacoby.”
“Uh, what?” Once again my thoughts of betrayal are obliterated by Trey.
“I was just saying I’ll take Tatum to my office and catch up with you later. You have those things to deal with.”
Taking the hint, I reply, “Oh yeah, right. I’ll catch up with you later, man.” He nods at me, and I make my way to the door, passing Tatum in the entry.
“I’ll see you in class, Sweetheart.” Her eyes widen infinitesimally at the familiar endearment, but other than that, she gives nothing away. She gives me a small shake of her head, but otherwise doesn’t make eye contact as she walks towards Trey. My heart clenches, but I know this isn’t going to be easy. Hopefully with my endearment on her mind, she won’t think about trying anything with my best friend.
With one last nod to my friend, I step outside into the snowy cold. Winter hit hard and early this week, and the air is frigid and icy. A fresh blanket of snow covers the ground, and the air feels like a blizzard is coming. I walk carefully across the icy parking lot, trying not to slip as I make my way to my car. Once inside I crank the heat, buckle up, and make the call I’ve been dreading for months.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom. It’s me.”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my boy,” the woman on the other end of the line cries, and my chest burns with guilt.
It’s time to start tying up these loose ends.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Tatum
“Come on, honey, my office is right this way.”
My body jolts at the sound of Trey’s smooth voice, reminding me why I came here in the first place. It wasn’t to see Jacoby. I actually hadn’t considered the possibility that he came to work out in the mornings before school. I guess when I spent all my evenings at work, I assumed he used that time to catch up on his own personal life. Now, I feel like a huge moron.
Oh God, he’s probably wondering what I’m doing with Trey. I don’t blame him, considering I’ve kissed his best friend. Except the whole reason I’m here won’t leave Jacoby much room to talk if Trey confirms my suspicions. If I was less of a coward I would have questioned Jacoby myself, but I’m not. I might as well have Scaredy Cat stamped on my forehead.
I follow Trey through the gym, down a brightly lit hall of white cinderblock walls and gray linoleum floors until he stops outside a locked door. He opens it, holding it wide and using his arm to gesture me inside. As I pass, he smiles gently at me. I don’t know if that’s a good sign, or a bad one, so I give him a tired smile of my own.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
The room looks like, well, an office. Four windowless cinderblock walls painted white, bare of any pictures or paintings. A small wooden desk pushed up against the wall to the right of the door way. The desk holds a laptop, charger, a cup of pens, and a small, messy stack of papers. Beside the desk sits a black three drawer filing cabinet, and across from it, on the opposite wall, are two padded chairs.
“Have a seat, hon, and tell me what’s going on.” Trey rests his butt against the edge of his desk and leans back to brace himself on his hands, gripping the edge.