Emerge (Evolve Series #1)(54)

for her to give me that exact look again.

She’ll be in there a while, so I decide to go grab something to eat and figure out this phone thing. I stop at Joe’s, a mom and

pop burger joint, and grab a booth in the back. I don’t need anyone bothering me, so I sit with my back to the door. I’ve got to

crack this phone and figure out exactly how my life was shattered the last few weeks.

Obvious step one, I call my phone from Laney’s. I got in on my first guess, my birthday was her code. I smile at that because hers

is mine and it just reminds me how we share the same brain. It also reminds me how close it really is to her birthday and I need to

get her something special. Something that says “I miss you like oxygen and I’m sorry I left you. Oh, and by the way, girls wake

up in my room but I swear I don’t touch them and please don’t leave me or I’ll die.” Something tells me a teddy bear and card

won’t cut it. I won’t be able to see her on the day, but I can still let her know how much I love her.

It rings, but rather than coming up as “My Girl,” or the sound of “Ho Hey” instantly lighting up my day, it comes up as just

her number. So I text, same thing. What? Ok, so I call her from my phone, it doesn’t ring. I text from my phone, it doesn’t pop

up. I scroll through her contacts, I’m in there. It’s the right number and I smile when I see I’m in as “Babe.” My contact

picture is one her dad took of us; I’m giving her a piggy back ride out by the pond.

So the problem is my phone...I pull her up, open it, and there ya have it—the number is not her number. So when I called or texted

her, it didn’t go to her phone; she never got it. And she didn’t call or text me, because not only was there no text to reply to

or ring to answer...she thought I was ignoring her. Oh God, my poor girl thought I had just ended all communication with her. Maybe

she was one of those random messages with no contact name that I deleted, thinking they were from a clingy Bulldog Babe. No way I’

m opening up that can of worms by asking for clarification though. I slam my fist on the table, knocking over the salt and pepper.

Too late salt, the bad luck already hit.

Leaning my elbows on the table, head in my hands, I rub my temples. My head is throbbing and my chest is tight. l can’t get a

full, deep breath. Laney must’ve been so hurt and the thought of her hurting makes me see red. More importantly, who the f*ck

changed her number in my phone? The only person here that Laney and I have in common is...no way, NO! Kaitlyn is Laney’s best

friend! WHY would she do this? Yes, we had an awkward morning, but I thought we were cool about it.

Is what I’m about to do creepy? Yes, and I feel like an ass, but I pull up the texts between Kaitlyn and Laney. I want to see if

anything in them confirms or refutes my suspicions. I’m really hoping for the latter. Laney adores Kaitlyn and this will cut her

deep if true.

Oh f*ck.

My whole body starts shaking and I have to swallow the burning acid that shoots up my throat. Please don’t let this actually be

happening. I’m so screwed. My sweet, sweet girl had seen this. A picture of me doing a tit shot off some blonde. Kaitlyn sent it

the night she was “being a good friend” and got me home safely.

Laney never mentioned it. Laney would never mention it. We broke up, so she thinks I’m entitled to a motorboat with whomever I

want and she’ll never go back on her decision. She gave me freedom so we wouldn’t fight, so she won’t berate me about it.

I deserve to have my ass kicked. If I got a picture of some dude’s face shoved in Laney’s cleavage, I’d find him, kill him, and

then check myself into an asylum. I couldn’t handle it, and yet, she had. She’d drawn the image, the hurt, the betrayal inside

herself and let me go on about my day.

Selflessly.

Staying on the road takes full effort as I drive back to the field to see if Laney’s out yet. I had seen new contacts in her phone

and she’s told me about the new people she’s been hanging with at school, but it hurt a little to see four new guys entered. Not

nearly as bad as it hurt to think I’d become the slimiest prick she could possibly know.

I slam my truck in park and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. I just want her to come out and let me make everything

better. I want to rewind and be lying against her, watching her movies with the smell of her hair all around me and none of this

having ever happened. How do I face her? How do I look her in the eye? Do I tell her I know she knows? Do I try to explain? Would

she really buy the whole “the team peer pressured me” bit? I wouldn’t.

I wait a little over an hour until I see her headed my way, bag in hand. She’s captivating. I swear I can see the halo above her

golden locks as she ambles towards me. I bolt out of the truck as soon as I see she’s crying, but I don’t pull her into me right

away. I don’t have as much right to do that anymore.

“Coach says I can ride back with you...if you feel like driving all that way. It’s getting late, so I understand if you can’t.

If not, I need my phone and I’ve gotta go right now and we can talk that way, if you figured things out with it.” She sniffles