Unwritten Page 21

  I shake my head. “It’s been this push-and-pull between us since I got back. But I told him to let me go. I told him to leave me alone. I may have even told him that whatever he thinks we have, we don’t anymore. It was for the safety of the life he’s living. Kristen makes him happy, even if I want to hate her. God, she’s so annoyingly perfect, and I still consider pulling her pretty hair out every time I see her. It’s irrational.”

  “You’ve always been a bit erratic, but we love you for it. Plus, that’d be a show I’d totally pay for.”

  I laugh an honest-to-goodness laugh, and it feels so good. “Caiden and I have at least been finding that level of friendship we used to have. I did miss that part. I just wish my heart wasn’t so involved.”

  “How could it not be?”

  “I guess you’re right. It doesn’t matter, though—”

  “Oh, are we back to the it doesn’t matter thing again?”

  I grumble, taking another sip, and before I can form some sort of rebuttal, she adds, “What did you feel when he kissed you?”

  This is when I forget how to breathe again. “Everything.”

  She tuts her understanding, but for once it doesn’t sound patronizing. “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Actually, I’m kind of pissed off about it. Caiden and I haven’t even talked about it, but I guess there’s nothing to say other than oops.”

  “Oops? What the…? Hailey. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Maybe I am, and I know you hate the response, but: Nothing. Fucking. Matters. I’m leaving. I’m going to figure out what to do with my mom’s ashes, probably put you in charge of the diner, and get the fuck out of town. I don’t take steps back, CeeCee. I only move forward, and Caiden is something I can’t figure out, and because of that, I feel like it’s safe to assume he’s not a good idea.” Displeasure thrums through my body, rattling me as I expel angrily, “He has a girlfriend. I’m not a home-wrecker. He’s the one who needs to keep himself sane while I’m in town.”

  “You don’t mean all that.”

  I drop my empty cup, letting my head fall into my hands as I reply, “I do. I can’t take being here much longer!”

  “Not to change subjects, but are you seriously putting me in charge of the diner? I’m kind of getting choked up here.”

  Another cathartic laugh escapes me, muffled by my hands as I peel them away. “Yeah, I am.”

  She giggles, nodding and grinning. “Okay, topic for a different time. Back to Caiden.”

  I sigh. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore. I really only wanted to confess what happened, not that I need anything solved. I just felt like I needed to tell someone.”

  “Well, now it makes sense why he’s been acting so weird the past few days. He’s kept very much to himself.”

  I’m tempted to tell her about the circumstances of the kiss, and how he just ran off, but I don’t. I’ve said what I needed to say, and if everything I’ve said to her so far is true, then the details really don’t matter.

  “You date anyone while living in California? I’ve never asked you that.”

  I press my lips into a hard line. They squirm under the pressure as I watch her.

  “Well…?” she chides, her rising eyebrow telling me she’s damn curious.

  “Lots, actually.”

  “Slut.”

  I shrug, even if it’s not true, or maybe it is. Wait, no it isn’t. “I was just trying to do that whole moving on thing.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Obviously not,” I guffaw, thinking more whiskey is the only answer that makes sense this evening. I lean down to grab my cup, but I get distracted when I hear my name being shouted from across the party.

  I turn around to find a face I didn’t consider seeing even though we were just talking about her.

  Kristen is stomping toward me, and the angelic, sweet-looking girl I had met no longer seems real. She looks pissed off.

  Terror and a bit of embarrassment riddles its way up my spine, because whatever that look means, I think I might actually deserve it. This is exactly what I didn’t want.

  “HAILEY!”

  I gulp at Kristen’s shout, shaking out my shoulders, feeling the need to brace myself.

  Gosh, I’m so tired. “Yeah?”

  With Kristen still a good twenty feet away, and CeeCee pretty drunk by now, Cee hiccups, “You totally should have let me spill pie on her.”

  I want to laugh. I want to love her for still being my best friend after all these chaotic years, but I’m defeated, and all I can do is release an exhausted sigh, waiting for Kristen to berate me. She must know about the kiss. It’s the only thing I can think of.

  That’s when I see it coming before everyone who’s now watching does, and I do nothing to stop it.

  Kristen flings the contents of her drink onto my face, the sticky blue liquid splashing over my cheeks and down my dress.

  I hear gasps, and even the rushed footsteps of CeeCee against the dry leaves of the forest floor behind me.

  Before opening my eyes, I raise my hand to stop CeeCee. I’m grateful she’d be so willing to fight for me, but I can fight my own battles, and let’s be honest, if I wanted to destroy Kristen, I would, but I don’t.

  “That’s what you get!” She tosses her cup on the ground as I wipe my eyes of the syrupy gunk, the smell of vodka singeing my nostrils.

  “Why did you even come back? Why don’t you just go home! You’re ruining it for everyone here! Things were better when you were gone!”

  I know I might have said that exact thing to CeeCee, but hearing it out loud, in front of all these people, confirming it, stings something nasty.

  I would never confess that my stomach feels like it just erupted in ulcers, but I claw at my soaked clothes where the pain bubbles.

  “Forget it. I understand…” My words trail off pathetically.

  Normally, I’d be up in arms, but I don’t have it in me. Not with this fight. Although, I don’t know how to end this. I can’t say the truth. Not in front of everyone at the party. I wish I could tell her that I believe I did deserve her drink in my face.

  When Caiden kissed me days ago, when I stomped into the station in a rage, and then he left me vulnerable and confused, I knew it would be my secret to bear. He’s done a good job being smart enough to ignore me. I didn’t realize it until now, but I’m sure it was to keep people like Kristen from getting hurt. Yet, here I am, messing it all up anyway.

  “Are we done?” I ask, and I know it’s rude, but I want to leave. I want to run. I glance back and see not only CeeCee, but now Brandon and Cameron gathering behind me. It’s sweet they’d come to my defense, but who does Kristen have? She’s from out of town. Aren’t these her friends, too? I don’t want any part of this.

  I need to do something, anything, but the moment I throw my hands up as if to signal my defeat, to throw up my white flag and walk away, she lifts up her other hand. I didn’t realize that she was holding anything else, but there it is. Its worn cover, tattered edges, and tens of tabbed post-it notes glow in the shadows of the bonfire. She has Caiden’s copy of my book.

  I go wide-eyed. I assumed that book was something he kept secret. I know nothing of the idiosyncrasies of his new life.

  “What is this, Hailey? Huh? Why does Caiden keep carrying this around?”

  “I-I…” I babble. No matter how hard I try, I still get so anxious and embarrassed when it comes to those damn 98,452 words all strung together to somehow describe my previous existence. That damn book. It’s made me and ruined me.

  “He carries it around like a fucking Bible!” She shakes the book. She hates the book. She hates me. “Why does he do that, Hailey! Caiden mopes around reading this like the fucking Da Vinci Code.”

  Brandon has the gall to snicker behind me. It causes Kristen to lose her temper, and the sound collides with her drunken slurs as she shouts, “Fuck this! You’ve messed up everything!”

&nbs
p; I can see tears welling up in her eyes. They glisten in the firelight, and I want to tell her I want to cry, too. I want to tell her I never wanted any of this. That this is the exact thing I feared. I try to pull in a deep breath.

  It’s just a stupid book about a stupid boy. I’m about to explain that exact thought, but she spits out, “Fuck you, Hailey!”

  She turns with her arm raised, frantically shaking the book, and it becomes clear what she intends to do as she takes two deliberate steps toward the blazing bonfire.

  My heart clenches. I know it’s only a material object that could be replaced, but for some reason my heart clings to those specific pages, and those scattered highlights, and the messy notes drawn in the margins. That book she holds is as much Caiden’s as it is mine now. I clench my jaw. There’s nothing I can do about what she plans, and even if I tried, it’d give me away. It would show everyone I care. I blink back my own tears.

  “Do something…” is whispered behind me, and all I know is, it’s one of my boys who says it. How would any of them know the importance of the damn thing? Maybe I’m the fool in this situation.

  I clench my eyes shut before she lets go of the book, but it’s CeeCee’s small gasp that has them springing open just as quickly.

  I’m shocked to see Caiden standing before me. Where did he come from? His looming frame towers over Kristen’s, and it’s easy for his long arm to capture Kristen’s wrist before she lets go of the book into the fire.

  I watch Kristen’s lips bob silently. She’s caught in something she apparently isn’t supposed to do.

  Caiden brings down her hand slowly. They’re staring at each other, nearly nose to nose. His face is stoic but furious. He slips the book out of her trembling hand, and I watch as he nonchalantly tucks it into the back of his jeans as if the gesture comes as second nature.

  “I’m so sorry, Caiden,” I hear Kristen whisper.

  My heart is thumping out of my chest, and this time I’m absolutely positive I want to cry. No matter how angry he is, and how apologetic she looks, it still feels too intimate for me to witness. I don’t care that this is an argument about my book. It still reminds me of their carefree smiles on the dance floor of the fair. They’re lovers. They’re close.

  Caiden mumbles something I can’t decipher, and I notice the tenseness around the party beginning to calm as everyone carries on with chitchat and beer pong. Yet I’m still watching, and it feels rude, like I’m intruding. I have to turn away.

  I know I’m out in the forest, and the oxygen runs free here, but I still feel suffocated.

  This is when I run. Again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I turn onto my back on my blanket nestled among the tall grass while raising my hands up toward the sunshine. I stretch out my cramped fingers and wrists as I pull in a deep breath, enjoying my secluded secret space for the fifth day in a row. I should have thought of this solution sooner.

  Before, I was waiting for someone to show up on my doorstep to give me answers. Now, I just want to disappear.

  I must admit, something good came out of the emotional tragedy that occurred at the party: my creative juices have been flowing ever since.

  I’ve calmed myself since the third-worst night of my life. The first night being leaving Caiden in PineCrest when I was nineteen. The second, when I heard my mother had passed away. Now the third would be witnessing Caiden and his girlfriend argue over a book I wrote about us.

  I close my eyes at this thought. Even though I’m alone in a field, hidden away by the tall grass, and I can hear the babbling of a stream not too far away, I still manage to feel utterly embarrassed.

  I’m thankful I have this secret place to retreat to. It didn’t cross my mind to come here until I needed it. Kind of like the Room of Requirement in Harry Potter, except instead of it magically appearing, I pulled my rusty bike from the garage and rode it to the only spot that’s never done me wrong in a time of need.

  My shrieking phone to the right of my head startles me in the outdoor silence. I hurriedly grab for it, not wanting to send off any sounds into the valley to alert anyone to where I am.

  If I wasn’t so exhausted with rolling my eyes, I’d roll my eyes at me.

  I answer, excited to see a name that doesn’t spark a history of hysterical madness. My agent. “Janet! How are you?”

  “I miss you. Where’s my book?”

  I laugh. “Do you miss me? Or do you really just need something to do?”

  “I can say both, right?”

  “You sound more caffeinated than usual.”

  “Well, I’ve switched over to five-hour-energy. I’m glad you noticed. How’s the book coming along?”

  I stretch out my right hand again. I’ve been tirelessly writing all day, and my hand is feeling the burn.

  “Good, actually. I mean, I still need to kind of pull the story together, but I’m at least writing a lot.”

  “That’s music to my ears. Are you ready to send me some chapters?”

  “Eh, not yet.” I pause, thinking I need to figure myself out before really figuring the story out. I hate how art imitates life sometimes. “But soon. I promise you, soon.”

  “How’s herding sheep?”

  I laugh loudly, rolling over onto my stomach. “You’ve just officially proven you have absolutely no idea what I mean when I say I’m in Colorado.”

  “So, it’s not like Little House on the Prairie?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t herd sheep?”

  “No.”

  “But there are horses?” she hums questioningly.

  I laugh. “I guess.”

  “Okay, so I know something. Are there roguish men riding around shirtless on these horses?”

  “We really need to get you to stop reading so many Harlequin novels, Janet. They’re gonna do you in.”

  “So, you’re saying no, there aren’t? Well then, fat chance you’ll ever get me to visit.”

  “I’ll find a way, just you wait.”

  “Unless you’re baiting me with a shirtless man and a new manuscript, then I say game on.”

  I laugh, remembering that my life in Los Angeles is so disconnected from what I have here, and it has me aching for it. “Jeez. I miss you.”

  “Finally, you admit it. I’ve been waiting.” She pauses, humming over a thought. “Are you okay? I feel like I hear a little sadness in your voice.”

  “Does anything get past you?”

  “Call it a gift. Now, what’s going on? What about lover boy?”

  I debate whether to divulge the whole story, but I know I don’t want to. I’m not ready to, nor do I have the energy. Running away these past five days has given me a sense of solace, but it hasn’t solved anything. With that in mind, I don’t think I could find the words to make Janet understand. “It’s complicated.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “I wish it wasn’t.”

  “From what you’ve told me, there was no way to avoid complicated. How’s that volatile chemistry working out?”