Call It What You Want(30)

Not that I’m trying too hard to read him. My brain is spinning, still trapped in the moment two minutes ago, when Maegan’s hand fell over mine.

“Hey,” says Maegan. She sounds thrown, which is one hundred percent better than how I feel. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I’ve been craving tacos, so I begged Drew to take me out.” Rachel drops into the chair Samantha left, leaving the guy to sit down beside me.

“Why don’t you join us,” I say dryly. I mean it to be light, but I sound like a prick.

Drew pulls his chair closer to the table and says, “We will. Thanks.”

Okay, good. He sounds like a prick, too. At least I’m on a level playing field.

A familiar tension settles over the table—or at least a tension familiar to me. It’s the same tension that rides along for every classroom interaction, every discussion with someone who might have known my father.

Maegan must pick up on it, because she leans in and haltingly says, “Um. Rob, this is my best friend, Rachel. And her boyfriend. Drew.”

“Hey,” I say. I can do this. I can be normal.

Encouraged by that, Maegan says, “Drew and Rachel, this is—”

Drew flips open a menu. “We know who he is.”

Of course they do.

I would give anything for my mother to call me with an emergency right now. The house burning down. My father speaking in tongues. The FBI on the front porch again. Anything.

My phone sits silently in my pocket. Traitor.

Rachel leans in to Maegan. She speaks softly but doesn’t do the greatest job. “Are you guys on a date? How could you not tell me?”

“It’s not a date,” Maegan says quickly.

Drew looks at me. “Charity?”

Rachel pokes him, chastising him under her breath, but his gaze doesn’t leave mine.

I’m pretty sure my eyes are sending a clear message right back.

Maegan is scrambling. “No, Samantha wanted to run lacrosse drills, so I invited Rob over—”

“Your sister hasn’t gone back to school yet?” says Rachel. “Is she still sick?”

Maegan’s mouth is working but no sound is coming out. I’ve never met someone so bad at keeping secrets. She’s going to spill the beans again, and I’m guessing these people would be more of a gossip mill than I am.

“She said it’s the first day she woke up without a fever,” I offer. “I figure I can’t catch strep from a lacrosse ball.”

“And it’s not like you’ve got any friends left anyway, right?” says Drew.

“Hey,” says Maegan. “Stop it.”

A year ago, I could have played this off as a sports rivalry—the lacrosse team and the football team always have a little less-than-friendly antagonism going on. But now there’s too much history on my side, and it’s impossible to ignore. I don’t know if Drew has a specific beef with me—I don’t keep track of every lawsuit pending against my family—but I torture myself enough. I don’t need this douchebag to help out.

I ball up my napkin and toss it on the table. “You think you can get a ride home from your friends?” I say to Maegan.

“I …” She glances uncertainly at Drew, who’s studying the menu extra hard, then at Rachel, who looks uncomfortable but obviously won’t speak out against her man. Maegan’s gaze returns to me. “Rob, wait, please—”

“Text me next time you want to work on the project.”

She says something in response, but I can’t hear her over the blood rushing in my ears. I knew this was a bad idea. I don’t know how I let it all go so far.

Cold air punches me in the face when I storm out of the restaurant. My eyes burn from the wind, and I bury my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt. It’s dark enough that no one will see me.

Until I get to my Jeep and discover Samantha sitting on the back bumper.

She’s sobbing into her hands.

Shit.

I should get Maegan. I can’t even text her, since Samantha has her phone.

The last place I want to go is back into that restaurant.

I’m such a jerk that I’m standing here thinking about my discomfort when Maegan’s pregnant sister is sitting alone in a cold parking lot, crying on the back of my car.

That spurs me into motion. I stride across the gravel and stop in front of her. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

She swipes at her eyes and looks up at me. “His wife answered.”

Whoa. All the breath leaves my lungs in a cloud of steam.

I turn and drop onto the bumper beside her. I barely know this girl, but at least I’m not the only one with problems.

It’s such a selfish thought that I want to kick myself.

She brushes more tears off her cheeks. “I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“You just met me. Trust me. I can be pretty stupid.” She swipes the last of the tears on her cheeks and points at her abdomen. “Case in point.”

“You didn’t put it there yourself.” I sit back against the tailgate. “What happened with the wife?”

She looks over at me. Her eyes are still watery. “Do you really care?”

I’m kind of morbidly curious. “I’m listening.”