Leah on the Offbeat (Creekwood #2)(50)

“Are you asking if I told her?”

Anna shrugs.

“Oh my God. That’s seriously what you’re focusing on right now?”

“Leah, don’t do this.” She sighs. “Can you just talk to Morgan. Please?” Her voice softens. “I’m really sick of being in the middle.”

“Then stop putting yourself in the middle.”

“Can you just stop? Okay? I just want things to be normal. We don’t have a lot of time left.”

I look at her, and suddenly I’m eleven years old. A freckly mess of a sixth grader with no friends. Literally none. I’d go to school, come home, and watch TV with Mom. I’d spend lunch periods reading manga in the bathroom. It was right after my dad left, so my mom was always angry or weepy, and the thing about Morgan and Anna is that they were the first people here to give a shit about me. They were my friends even before I knew Simon and Nick existed. So maybe I’m an asshole. Maybe I’m overreacting.

I swear to God, someone tied a knot in my stomach.

Anna shakes her head slowly. “Like, what’s next? Are you going to find a reason to hate me? And Nick? What about Simon? Are you going to shut us all out because you can’t deal with saying good-bye?”

“Okay, that’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Is it?”

“This isn’t about me,” I snap. “Morgan said something racist. And she didn’t apologize to Abby. So, that’s it. We’re done here.”

I turn on my heel and storm out of Starbucks, leaving Anna standing in front of the counter with her mouth hanging open.





22


SIMON TEXTS ME BEFORE I even get to my car. Can you come to Waffle House? Like right now?

I write back immediately. Eerily perfect timing. Just stepping out of Starbucks. I almost wonder if he knew. Waffle House is so close, I could actually walk there.

Oh awesome—we’re in the back, come find us!

My stomach drops. Us?

Me and Nick, he replies.

Fuck. Fuckstravaganza.

God, the thought of facing Nick right now. I don’t even know how I’ll look him in the eye. What if he just knows? What if he can read it on my face? Guess what, Nick! Guess what I did! With your ex-girlfriend! Who you’re still in love with!

Like, this isn’t some minor fuckup. This is a straight-up friend felony.

I stare at the screen of my phone, wondering how I can possibly wriggle out of this. Maybe now’s the time for one of those fictional diarrhea attacks Simon’s so strangely fond of.

Or not. I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to face Nick eventually.

I can be there in five, I write back.

You’re the best, Simon writes.

It’s so warm and breezy out that I think I actually will walk. Might as well leave my car in the gentlemen’s club parking lot. Wouldn’t be the first time a car parked there for hours.

When I get there, they’re slumped on opposite sides of a booth, picking at a single shared waffle. It’s a sad fucking scene. “Hey,” I say, sliding in next to Simon.

Nick perks up. “Hey! Welcome back. How was your road trip?”

My heart twists when he says it. Maybe one day the phrase road trip won’t remind me of Abby. I tuck my legs up, cross-legged on the seat, and press my lips together. “It was good.”

“Good.” He nods quickly. “Hey, so, I was wondering . . .”

“Here we go,” Simon murmurs.

A waitress appears, and I order a waffle and a black coffee. All business. But as soon as she leaves, Nick launches right in. “How was Abby? Like, was she sort of okay, or—I mean, I don’t know. Was she acting weird?”

Shit.

“She seemed . . .”

“Like, was she crying?”

“Um. A little bit?”

I mean, it’s true. She cried a little bit. Right after I called her out. Which was right after she kissed me.

“Whoa. Okay.” Nick’s eyes widen. “That’s . . . okay, good to know.”

I leap frantically toward a subject change. “So, how was your trip?”

“It was great,” Simon says. There’s this catch in his voice.

But before I can ask him what’s wrong, Nick’s off and running again. “I just miss her, you know? Like, we haven’t talked for a week. I keep almost calling her. It’s completely automatic. I just. Ugh.” He rubs his forehead. “This was a mistake, right? We shouldn’t have broken up.”

“Well,” Simon says carefully. “She broke up with you.”

It’s like Nick doesn’t even hear him. “I should have fought for her.” His voice quivers. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I just let her go. What was I thinking?”

Simon shoots me a glance.

“I mean, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I say finally.

“I just didn’t fight hard enough.” He shakes his head. “I should have applied to Georgia.”

“But you love Tufts,” Simon says uncertainly.

“I love Abby.”

I feel almost dizzy. I can’t quite line my thoughts up. All I know is this: Nick loves Abby. I kissed Abby. And if he knew, I don’t think he’d ever be okay. He would never recover.