Endo (Full Send #2)

Chapter 22

22

LENA

Good Life - G Eazy, Kelhani

You know your life’s a mess when fried calamari and an overpriced lemonade feel like the highlight of your week. But here I am, sitting between my two best friends, pretending I’m not drowning in unresolved feelings and a metric ton of guilt.

The restaurant, Salty Breeze Grill, is buzzing with energy as I sit at the table with Bex and Cece. The lively chatter of other diner’s blends with the sound of waves crashing on the shore, creating a symphony of chaos that somehow feels comforting. The smell of fried calamari and grilled shrimp wafts through the air, mixing with the faint tang of salt from the ocean breeze.

It’s the kind of place that feels effortlessly laid-back, where you could lose an afternoon without trying. And if I weren’t stuck in my own head, I might actually enjoy it. But no, my brain’s decided to play a highlight reel of every stupid, complicated feeling I’ve been avoiding, and I’m about one misplaced comment away from cracking.

It’s been about a week since I went to the opening race with Reign. A week since I sat in the pits and watched the Speed Demons race, my heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the sound of engines roaring past.

And a week since I’ve seen him .

I’ve been avoiding him. Not in an obvious way—at least, I hope not—but enough to keep some space between us. It’s not that I regret what happened.

I don’t. I can’t.

But its left me feeling... weird. Off-balance. Like I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next.

I haven’t been able to figure out how to feel about it. Reign and I have always had this connection, this gravitational pull that’s impossible to ignore. But sleeping with him—it blurred the lines. Made everything more… complicated. And now, every time I think about him, it’s like this knot forms in my chest, tight and unrelenting.

“Earth to Lena,” Bex says, waving a hand in front of my face. “You’ve been zoning out for the last five minutes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re planning your escape route.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, shaking myself out of it. “Just... tired.”

Cece grins knowingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “She’s definitely thinking about him.”

“I’m not.”

“Lena,” Bex says, leaning back in her chair, “you’ve been zoning out for the past five minutes, staring at the waves like they hold the answers to life’s mysteries. Spill. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, taking a sip of my lemonade to avoid their knowing gazes.

Cece smirks, propping her chin on her hand. “I was right, it’s Reign, isn’t it?”

I roll my eyes. “Can we not?”

“Oh, come on,” Bex says, nudging my foot under the table. “We saw you in the pits with him for the season opener. How was that?”

“It was fine,” I say with a shrug, trying to keep my voice casual. “They did good. I mean a few slip ups, but it’s early in the season and they’re working with a new team. It’s expected.”

“And?” Cece presses.

“And what?”

Cece groans dramatically. “And what about you and Reign? What’s going on there?”

“Nothing,” I lie, too quickly.

Bex snorts. “Yeah, okay. We totally believe you.”

I glare at her, but it’s half-hearted. They’re relentless, and they know me too well to let this go.

“Look,” I say finally, leaning forward, “nothing’s ‘going on.’ We’ve just been... spending some time together.”

Cece’s eyebrows shoot up. “Spending some time together? Perra please! That sounds suspiciously vague.”

I shake my head, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. “Can we talk about something else? Like, I don’t know, Cece’s disaster Tinder date?”

Cece groans, throwing her hands up dramatically, her frustration practically vibrating off her. “ Ugh , fine! But don’t think for a second this whole thing with you and Romeo is over, Lena. We are definitely circling back to this shit. Don’t even try me.”

Bexley smirks, leaning back and crossing her arms, already ready to back Cece up. “She’s not wrong, you know. You’re not off the hook, chica.”

I roll my eyes, biting back a grin. “Oh no, not the Cece Inquisition. I’m terrified .”

Cece narrows her eyes, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me. “You should be. But fine, I’ll let you off for now because I need to tell y’all about the Tinder date from hell last night. Dios mío , buckle up, this one’s a fucking novella.”

I raise an eyebrow, already bracing myself. “Alright, spill it.”

Cece leans forward, her expression the perfect mix of exasperation and disbelief. “Okay, so first of all, this guy says he’s 6’3” on his profile, right? Naturally, I’m like, great , let me wear my heels and look fine as hell. But when I show up? This cabrón is barely 5’9”. With shoes on.”

Bexley snorts so hard she almost chokes on her drink. “No. Not the height lie. The nerve .”

“Right?” Cece flings her hands in the air like she’s throwing away his nonexistent credibility. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, he walks in wearing a Fedora. I shit you not. A fucking Fedora.”

I lose it, laughing so hard I nearly spill my drink. “Stop. No way. You’re lying.”

“ I wish ,” Cece groans, like she’s reliving the trauma all over again. “And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he kept calling me m’lady. Every damn sentence. ‘ M’lady , would you like more wine?’ ‘ M’lady , you look so ravishing tonight.’ I was dying inside.”

Bexley wheezes, clutching her stomach as she leans over the table. “Not m’lady ! Oh my god, Cece, where do you find these fucking losers? Is there some secret app for disasters only you have access to?”

I’m barely holding it together, tears streaming down my face. “Please tell me it didn’t get worse.”

“Oh, it did,” Cece says, holding up a finger for emphasis. “This pendejo pulls out his phone halfway through dinner and starts showing me his custom katana collection. Like, full-on samurai shit.”

“ ?No manches !” I yell, slapping the table. “A katana collection? What, was he preparing for the zombie apocalypse or a bad anime audition?”

Cece nods, her face dead serious. “I swear to god. And he called them ‘investments.’ Like, who the hell invests in katanas ?”

Bexley can barely breathe, waving her hand like she needs a minute. “Girl, I can’t. You need to write a book about this shit. Katana Boy and the Fedora Chronicles. ”

I shake my head, still laughing as I lean forward. “You know, this is why you should just let Revel take you out. No height lies, no Fedoras, and definitely no katanas.”

Cece scoffs, giving me the side-eye. “Please. Revel doesn’t need a katana—his sharp-ass mouth is enough.”

Bexley grins, raising her glass. “Ohhh, so you have thought about it.”

Cece points her fork at us, her eyes narrowing. “I hate both of you.”

I hold up my hands, biting back another laugh. “Hey, I’m just saying. Maybe you wouldn’t have to deal with these pendejos if you gave Revel a chance. He’s persistent, and you know, not a walking disaster.”

Cece groans, dramatically leaning back in her chair. “The day I let Revel take me out is the day pigs fly, and not a second before.”

Bexley raises her glass higher, smirking. “To Revel. May he one day wear your feisty ass down.”

Cece flips us off with a wicked grin, and the three of us dissolve into laughter, the weight of the week slipping away for just a little while. Moments like this? Worth every damn second.

The conversation eventually shifts, the tension melting away as the teasing gives way to laughter and playful banter. Bex, still lounging with a smug grin, takes a sip of her drink before casually dropping, “So, you’re coming to the BBQ at the Shaw beach house tonight, right? It’s Sayshen’s birthday.”

I pause mid-sip of my lemonade, my hesitation probably written all over my face. “Oh, I don’t know,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but Cece’s already squinting at me like I’ve personally offended her.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Cece says, wagging her finger at me. “Don’t start with that ‘I don’t know’ bullshit. You’re coming. Period.”

“I didn’t say no,” I argue, raising a brow. “I just... didn’t say yes.”

“Lena,” Cece leans forward, her voice dripping with exasperation. “When was the last time you hit the beach with us? Hell, when was the last time you did anything remotely fun that didn’t involve work or training with mister lova lova? Who may I remind you we still need to circle back to!”

Bex nods in agreement, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “She’s got a point. We went out for drinks last week, but even then you barely relaxed. You need this. Drinks, food, sand, sun—it’s all good for the soul.”

“I relax,” I protest, though even I can hear how unconvincing I sound.

“Uh-huh,” Cece says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Your idea of relaxing is doing paperwork by the tank. So, nope. No excuses this time.”

I narrow my eyes at her, but her unrelenting glare has me caving faster than I’d like to admit. “Fine. I’ll go. But only because it’s Sayshen’s birthday.”

Bex raises her glass with a grin. “That’s the spirit.”

“And because you love us,” Cece adds, smirking.

“Don’t push it,” I shoot back, though I can’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips.

“Wear something cute,” Cece says, winking. “And don’t show up late, or I’m dragging your ass into the ocean myself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, already regretting my decision. But deep down, I know they’re right. It’s been too long since I let myself just... be. Maybe this is exactly what I need.

The drive back to my apartment is quiet, the city lights casting a soft glow through the windows as I navigate the familiar streets. The steady rhythm of the tires against the pavement matches the tempo of my thoughts—jumbled and restless. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I do need to let go for a while, forget about everything that’s been dragging me down. Just for one night.

When I get home, I toss my bag on the couch and head straight to my room, kicking off my shoes as I go. The apartment feels still, almost too still, like it’s holding its breath along with me. I flip on the light and glance at my reflection in the mirror. My face looks tired, but there’s a flicker of something else in my eyes—resolve, maybe.

I grab my phone off the nightstand, and it buzzes in my hand—a text from Revel.

Revel: You going to Sayshen’s thing? Talon invited me.

Lena: Yeah, I’m going.

Revel: Want me to pick you up?

I hesitate for a moment before typing back.

Lena: Sure.

Revel: Alright, I’ll be there in 10.

I quickly rummage through my closet, pulling out the bikini I bought on impulse last summer. It’s white and simple, but it fits perfectly, highlighting the tattoos on my ribs and hip—the delicate waves and a small sea turtle, both nods to the ocean I love. My hair falls loose around my shoulders, soft and slightly wavy from being air-dried. I slip on a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a thrifted tie-dye T-shirt that’s faded just enough to look effortlessly casual. It’s nothing fancy, but it feels like me—comfortable, and uncomplicated.

As I catch my reflection in the mirror, I take a deep breath. Knowing Reign will be there twists something tight in my chest. I’ve been avoiding him since that night—since we crossed a line I still don’t know how to navigate. He’s been texting, his messages a mix of casual and concerned, but I haven’t replied to a single one. Cowardly? Probably. But what do I even say? That I’m still trying to figure out if we’re a mistake I can’t stop making? That the thought of facing him again makes my stomach churn, not with regret, but with something more dangerous—want?

I shake the thought off and grab my bag, stuffing it with sunscreen and a towel. Tonight, I’ll have to face him. There’s no avoiding it. But I’ll deal with it the way I deal with everything—head-on, with just enough deflection to keep myself from falling apart.

Just as I’m slipping into my sandals, there’s a knock at the door.

Revel’s leaning against the doorframe when I open it, looking effortlessly relaxed in a black tee and jeans. His dark hair’s a mess, sticking up in that casual way that somehow still works for him.

“You took long enough. Did you need a formal invitation or what?” he teases, giving me a once-over.

I roll my eyes, grabbing my bag. “Sorry, didn’t realize this was a red-carpet event. You, on the other hand, look like you rolled out of bed and tripped into the first shirt you found.”

He smirks, unfazed. “And still managed to look better than you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” I shoot back as we head to his car.

As we’re walking, he glances over at me. “You know, I’ve been hanging with the Demons a lot lately.”

“Oh?” I reply, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. They’re actually decent guys—surprisingly not the raging assholes I pegged them for.”

I snort. “You’re only saying that because they let you sit at the cool kids’ table now.”

He feigns offense, clutching his chest. “I’ll have you know, they value my company. Talon even laughed at one of my jokes yesterday.”

“Yeah, probably because he didn’t know it was a joke,” I quip, throwing him a smirk.

“Wow,” Revel says, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “This is the thanks I get for picking you up? You’re lucky I’m such a saint.”

I laugh, tossing my bag in the back seat of his car. “Saint? You’re about as saintly as a raccoon raiding the trash at midnight.”

“Fair comparison,” he says with a shrug, sliding into the driver’s seat. “But don’t think I’m letting you off easy tonight. I’ve got a whole arsenal of comebacks waiting.”

I smirk as I climb in, buckling my seatbelt. “Save them, Revel. You’re gonna need every single one when Cece shuts you down. Again.”

He snorts, starting the car. “You act like I don’t enjoy the chase. One day, though...”

“Yeah, yeah,” I cut in, rolling my eyes. “Dream big, buddy.”

For all the chaos in my head lately, it feels good to have a moment like this—light, playful, and just us.