She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not(20)

“You’re gorgeous,” I tell her. She wrinkles her nose a little, but smiles.

“You okay, Christensen?”

“Perfect.” And I feel perfect. All of the insecurities that have been dodging me seem to fade away over the next forty-five minutes. A few of my friends and their dates come to stand with us, and I smile because Kenny says hi to all of them, not even trying to push out of my arms. Lorenzen looks around before taking the flask out of his pocket and untwisting the cap.

“Want another?” he asks, motioning to me.

Kenny freezes next to me. That feeling I washed away earlier sneaks back in. I shake my head, turning to Kenny. Her face that was glowing earlier is now pale and withdrawn, her eyes wide, dark and hurt.

The alcohol threatens to boil in my stomach.

“Another?” she asks. “You’ve been drinking?” Her voice is low. She wraps her arms around her middle, and I feel my gut clench.

“Just a few shots. Nothing major.” Except, even I know that’s bullshit. Drinking is drinking—end of story.

“Nothing major,” she repeats, eyes darker and darker. “Right. A few shots, nothing major. Except, you drove tonight.” Her eyes flare in anger when they meet mine. “Were you planning on driving me home?”

“No,” I say, adamant. “No, I wouldn’t have done that.” Please, God, tell me I wouldn’t have done that. “I would have given you my keys, or we could have gotten a ride with someone else.” And, then, I step way over the line; unable to stand her accusing glare, and the way it makes me feel. “It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

“Not a big deal.” Her laugh is caustic. “You drank, and you were going to drive, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Kenny,” I say, thinking of how to apologize.

“I don’t drive,” she snaps. “You know why I don’t drive, Gage? Because my mom drove drunk and killed herself and four other people when I was eleven. That’s why I live with April and Brad. That’s why the state pays them to take care of me. That’s why I don’t even have a license.”

The guys around us are staring now, and I can see the shame and embarrassment mix with the pain on Kenny’s face. The alcohol is now roiling in my stomach, and I know I’m going to be sick soon.

“Jesus, Kenny, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. So sorry.” I try to reach for her, but she stops me with a look.

“Give me your keys.” I take them out of my pocket without hesitation, placing them in her outstretched palm. “I’m going to ask Cam to give us a ride home.” I nod, watching her pull her phone out of her small bag and send a text. When she turns to walk away, I follow meekly, sweat covering my skin, nausea rising with every second.

Cam doesn’t speak when he meets us at his car, but the look he gives me says it all.

I get into the back without a word. Kenny is next to me, silent. I hear low murmurs coming from Cam and Greg in the front seat.

Kenny gets out first, not saying anything. I muster enough energy to open my door and stand, but she stops me from walking her to the door. “Don’t. I can’t…” Her voice breaks, and she blinks her eyes. Everything inside of me centers around the piercing pain in my chest. “Just stay here.” And, then, she’s gone. I watch her retreating form while she runs up the steps. Cam follows, hugging her at the door. Whether it’s the sight of that, or something else, I finally throw up everything in my stomach.

When Cam gets back to the car, he looks back at me, and then balls his hand into a fist and punches me in the stomach. “That’s for not taking care of her.”

If I hadn’t thrown up earlier, I would now. “I’m sorry, man. God… I don’t know. I didn’t know about her mom.”

“You shouldn’t have to know about her mom to know that drinking when you’re in charge of her is never okay. What if I hadn’t been there, Gage? Who would have gotten you both home?”

I might be sick again. Leaning over, hands on my knees, I breathe through my nose. “I messed up.”

“You’re damn right you did.” He says.

“Is she okay?” A stupid question.

“I don’t know. She’s hurt—and she’s scared. Jesus—I don’t know if she’ll forgive you for this, Gage, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to blame her if she doesn’t. This was bad.”

I nod, because he’s right. Kenny was mine to take care of, and I let her down. Just like everyone else.

“I promised her I was different.”

“Yeah, well, right now, you’re the same as everyone else she’s ever known.”

I nod, standing to look Cam in the eye. “I know—but I don’t want to be. I have to try and fix this, Cam. I’m not asking for your help, I just think you should know. I’m going to try and fix this, and, if she forgives me, I’ll never be this stupid again.”

He stares at me a second, judging from the looks, to see if he can trust me. Then he nods. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“She’s worth it,” I say. More than worth it—I just hope I can prove to her we’re worth it.





Chapter 19: Dear Karma, I understand now.

Kennedy