Open Road Summer(69)

I sit up. “I should get back up there before Peach and Dee get back.”

“Okay.” His phone goes off again, and he frowns as he reaches for it on the nightstand.

“You’re popular early in the morning,” I comment, standing up from the bed. I slide my hoodie back on.

“No . . . ,” he trails off, concerned. “I actually have to answer this.”

Before I can say I don’t care, he’s holding the phone to his ear. “Hey.”

I move toward the door, and he doesn’t even look up. “Corinne, slow down, slow down. What happened? He what?”

Matt shifts, turning so that his feet are on the floor. His back is to me, hunched over as he rests his elbows on his knees. “Okay, just take a breath.”

Now I feel like I shouldn’t be here, like I’m intruding on Matt and another girl. I pad gently to the door; I don’t even want to interrupt with my steps.

“Sorry,” he mouths to me, covering the phone. He grimaces, trying to portray the seriousness of the situation. Maybe her dad died. Or her dog. I should be more sensitive, to her apparent crisis, but I feel disregarded. This departure is all wrong. He couldn’t possibly know that it’s such a big deal for me—to stay here with him, to talk about Blake. But I did both of those things, only to be cast aside by his girl best friend.

Once upstairs, I’m startled to find Dee in our room. She’s sitting on the bed cross-legged, unpacking the small bag of things she took home for the night.

“Hey! I didn’t think you’d be back till later.”

“Clearly.” She smirks up at me. “And you are so lucky that Peach met Greg for brunch downstairs without checking in on you.”

I play dumb. “Oh. Yeah. That’s where I was, too. Brunch.”

“Reagan O’Neill.” Dee laughs. I notice that she looks better rested. Her complexion looks healthier, her skin clear of dark circles. “This bed did not get slept in last night.”

“I didn’t sleep with him.” I pause, rethinking that statement. “I mean . . . I slept in his room, but that’s it.”

“Really.” Dee halts her unpacking process, frozen with a pair of jeans in hand. “Fascinating.”

“Why? We haven’t even known each other that long.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before.”

“Hey.” I grab a pillow and smack it against her arm. She laughs because she’s right, and we both know it.

Dee keeps looking at me, shaking her head slowly. “You didn’t sleep with him. Huh.”

“Stop—you’re making it weirder!” I squirm under the heat of her scrutiny. “Anyway. How was home?”

“Great. Much needed. My parents say hello.” Her entire aura is lighter than it has been since the tour started. “I also floated the idea of getting my own apartment sometime in the next year or so, just to see how they’d react. They were really supportive.”

“Oh yeah?” I confess: I’m surprised she’d mention this to her parents so soon. Dee doesn’t adapt easily.

“Yeah. They know it’s hard for me, the idea that I’ll miss out on these huge life experiences by not going to college. And living on my own, near home, will still give me something similar.” She tilts her head, suddenly looking shy. “And you really can live with me, if you want. If you stay in Nashville for school. You don’t have to. You can live in a dorm. I won’t be mad.”

I laugh. There’s the Dee I know—the one already obsessing over the details of the hypothetical. “Okay.”

She smiles, loosening up again. “I’m so excited about the idea of it. Decorating a place so that it feels like mine, buying my own groceries . . .”

There’s a knock at the door, and I glance up. “I’ll get it.”

It had better be Matt. My curiosity about his conversation is driving me crazy. In the fish-eye lens, I can see that he’s changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and he looks distraught.

“Hey,” I say, pulling the door all the way open.

“Hey. Sorry about that.” He kisses me on the side of the head. This action is completely dispassionate—a movement born of habit or obligation, not real feeling. I want to swipe my hand over my hair, brushing off the indignity of it. “Corinne’s boyfriend just broke up with her, out of nowhere.”

Great. I presume she needed to call Matt to let him know that she’s now available, after his years of pining for her. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. She’s really messed up about it.”

“Hey Matt!” Dee says, emerging from our room. “Oh, wow. Your hair! When did that happen?”

“Last night.” He runs his hand over his shorn hair.

“Looks great.” Dee looks between our two faces. “Everything okay?”


Matt moves toward the couch, and I follow behind him. “Yeah. My best friend just called to say she got dumped.”

“Corinne? You’re kidding. Haven’t they been together for ages?”

I knew Dee had met Corinne before, but I didn’t know she knew her life history. Matt nods grimly. “Yeah—practically married.”

That’s how I felt when Dee and Jimmy broke up. I couldn’t get used to the idea of them apart. Still can’t.