The Way to Game the Walk of Shame(55)

I sat down beside her and awkwardly shifted back and forth, torn between wanting to get closer and not wanting to get too close, because I didn’t know if I could hold myself back. She leaned away from me and gave me a funny look.

“What?”

A half smile appeared on her face. “I didn’t know you wear glasses. It makes you look cute. Smart.”

My brows rose in surprise. Did Taylor Simmons just call me cute and smart? I made a big show of adjusting the wire-rimmed glasses on my nose. “Yeah, well, blame it on computers and video games at a young age.”

“Ah, now that I can believe. So what do you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to see if you were okay?” I asked lamely. Damn, why couldn’t I think of a better excuse?

“Um, yeah, I’m fine.” She folded one leg beneath her. The other foot pushed at the ground, and she swung us back and forth. “Are you? Honestly?”

My arms crossed beneath my head. “Honestly, no, not really.”

I had perfected lying over the years, so I always thought I was a pretty good actor. But Taylor noticed something was wrong. And she came to a party where she clearly didn’t want to be just to make sure I was all right. She made me want to talk to her. To tell her everything that was bothering me.

But I couldn’t tell her about how jealous I was of her and Brian. And how I had picked a fight with Brandon because of it. I still had my pride.

Instead, I told her about Mom and the card I found in her purse.

“So did you end up talking to her?”

“Yeah.” I stared up at the stars peeking out between the branches and leaves. A lot of good that had done. I had tried to talk to Mom again a few more times, but she still refused to let me talk to Dad. I should have just swiped the card when I had the chance. “She said he’s tried to contact me for a while, but she didn’t tell me because it was for my own good.” I let out a humorless laugh. “Brandon said it was better that way. So I could make a new life. Be happier. Thinking that my dad abandoned me.”

Taylor wrinkled her nose. “Well, it’s easy to see why Brandon chose to be an anesthesiologist rather than a psychiatrist. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”

This time I laughed for real. “That’s for sure.”

It got quiet for a moment, and I couldn’t help imagining that we were back at the beach. Alone and quiet. It was almost completely dark in this corner except for a flickering streetlamp over the far gate.

“So what are you going to do now?” Taylor said.

“What do you mean?”

She turned on her side to face me. “Are you going to find him?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

Taylor poked my shoulder. Hard. “Lies.”

“Ouch, you’ve got one bony finger.” In response, she raised both index fingers and reached toward me again. “Fine, fine, I’ll admit that the thought has crossed my mind once or twice.”

“And?”

“And … I haven’t decided, all right?” I pushed myself upright, making the hammock sway under the sudden shift.

Taylor waited until the rocking slowed before sitting up, too. She edged closer until we were almost pressed against each other. “What are you afraid of? From what you told me, he’s great.”

A million answers came to mind, but I gave her the one that I didn’t even want to admit to myself. “What if he’s not? I built him up to be this Perfect Dad. What if I find out that he’s not at all what I remembered? That’s he’s exactly the type of person Brandon always said he was—that I would become someday?”

“That’s true. He could turn out to be a douche like my dad.” She shook her head. “Nah, that wouldn’t be possible. There couldn’t be two of them in this world. God’s not that mean.”

I laughed and wrapped an arm around her back. She didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned a fraction closer until our sides, our hips, were touching. “You know, chances are your dad probably won’t live up to your expectations. Things usually don’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. And you won’t know until you try. It’s your choice.” She grimaced. “Sorry, you came here to talk, not get a lecture. I’ll shut up now.”

“It’s all right. I’ve gotten used to your bossy self.” I pulled her in for a tight hug. My cheek rested on the top of her head. “And you’re right. You didn’t live up to my expectations, and that wasn’t a bad thing at all.”

“Oh, and what were your expectations with me?”

“You don’t want to know.”

She laughed. “You’re right, I probably don’t. It’s getting late. You should go home before you’re too sleepy to drive.”

Taylor untangled herself from my arms and moved away. Or at least tried to. I tightened my grip around her waist, not wanting the moment to end yet. “Could you stay here with me a little bit longer?” I asked.

“Um, sure.”

As we lay back and looked up at the stars, I felt calm for the first time that week. More in control. She was right. It might not be my choice to be apart from my dad for so long, but now it was my choice whether I wanted it to stay that way. I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. I’d figure that out later. Right now I just wanted to stay here as long as I could.