Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(35)

Whatever.

I’m not doing a good job of dealing with whatever I’m feeling. Going to bed and getting a good night’s sleep is probably a smart idea. So that’s what I do.

—

I have an early shift at the diner Sunday morning, which is good because I’m running low on spending money and I could use some tips. It’s busy today and I bring in a pretty good haul; plus, being busy keeps me from thinking about Jacob.

This would be a good day to cook something healthy for dinner, so during my break I go to my Pinterest app on my phone and search through recipes. I find a healthy and easy one for braised balsamic chicken, and I write the ingredients on a list. I love lists.

I stop at a grocery store on my way home. In front of the balsamic vinegar selections on the shelf, I pause. Holy crap, this stuff is expensive. I vacillate over brands. Couldn’t I use red wine vinegar? It’s probably the same, and way cheaper. I grab a bottle and add it to the cart.

At home, I set about preparing the meal. Nat and Brooklyn are in the living room with their laptops, supposedly doing homework but mostly talking and laughing. Ella arrives just as I’m covering the chicken to simmer. Now I need to cook the pasta.

“Hey,” I call out. “How was your weekend?”

I haven’t even seen her since the party after the hockey game. She disappeared with Eric, then left to go home Saturday while I was at work.

She drops her backpack and wanders into the kitchen. “It was okay. What are you doing?”

“I made dinner for us. Braised balsamic chicken.”

“Huh. Cool. I’m kind of hungry.”

“Was your parents’ party nice?”

She shrugs. “Sure.” Then she makes a face. “Brendan’s parents were there.”

“Oh.” I pause with a box of pasta in my hands. “How are they doing?”

“They’re…I don’t know. They said they’re doing okay, but I think his mom is a bit of a mess.”

“Shit.” It was hard for us to lose our friend; I can’t imagine how his parents feel and what they’re going through. It’s been nine months so it must be getting easier. Or maybe it never does.

“Yeah.”

We chat more about the party as I cook, then I ask, “So who’s this Eric guy?”

“Just a guy.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Nah.” She doesn’t meet my eyes. Random hookups are all she does lately. She doesn’t seem interested in actually dating or getting to know a guy. I try to tell myself that’s totally fine. Guys do it all the time. There’s nothing wrong with a girl doing it. “How about you? You left with Jacob?”

I sigh. That seems like a lifetime ago. “Yeah.” I haven’t told her about our deal. In fact, I haven’t told her much, because it seems we hardly see each other and we don’t talk like we used to. That night at the game, she thought I was there because I really like him.

I do really like him.

“So what’s up with him?” she asks. “You two are seeing each other?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” I give the pasta in the boiling water a stir. “Last night we went to the library to study.”

“Oooh, fun times.”

I know she’s teasing, but it kind of bugs me. Or maybe I’m overly sensitive. “Whatever. Anyway, we kind of had a disagreement, and I haven’t talked to him since.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “Are you upset?”

She does sound like she cares, like my old Ella, and my heart squeezes. “A little.”

“What happened?”

Since she’s prompting me, I spill it all. “I think I insulted him,” I finish. “I feel bad.”

“So call him and apologize.”

I nod slowly. That would be the right thing to do. Yesterday I’d been trying to convince myself that because I hadn’t intended to hurt him, he was the one who’d overreacted. But hearing Ella say this makes me realize I probably do owe him an apology. Even if it doesn’t make things better, I should still do that. “You’re right. I will after dinner.”

I serve up the pasta and chicken and all four of us sit down at the kitchen table to eat. The first bite of chicken is…interesting.

“Your aura is very brown tonight,” Natalie tells Ella, a wrinkle between her eyebrows.

Ella’s eyebrows lift and I smile at my plate. “Oh yeah? What does that mean?”

“It means you’re confused. Or…discouraged.”

Ella shrugs. “Well, I was home with my parents, which is often confusing.”

We all laugh. I think Natalie’s talk about auras is kind of funny. I’m skeptical, but she told me my blue aura meant I was an excellent communicator and a very good organizer and I could motivate and inspire others. I’d like to believe that.

“Hmm,” Nat says. “This chicken is…very tangy.”

I wrinkle my nose at my plate. “It definitely is.”

We keep eating. It’s…not great. “It’s the vinegar,” I decide. “Balsamic vinegar was so expensive, I used something else.”

Nat and Brooklyn aren’t my best friends like Ella is, but just then, I love them as they valiantly keep eating, and then thank me for cooking.