Homesick

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

I ’ve been sitting in the same place for hours. The second my feet touched the gravel of the driveway after I shut his truck door, I found an old rock and planted myself. Break-ups are hard, but it’s even worse when you don’t see it coming.

I can feel the cold October air begin to nip at my cheeks, but I welcome the numb feeling. At first, I took my post on this rock in hopes that Blake would change his mind and turn around. That hope was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling in my stomach that this was real. Blake had ended things.

I don’t notice I’m crying until I feel a bitter saltiness drip on my lips. The longer I wait for him, the more tears come. I’m afraid that they’ll never stop. That I’ll never rip this terrible feeling from my heart.

I feel like everything I’ve known since I was a kid is a lie. I thought he loved me, but how can someone who loves you hurt you like this?

When I feel a buzzing sensation in my pocket, my mind assumes it’s Blake and he’s changed his mind. But when I look at the screen, I see Emma’s contact photo. I debate on letting it go to voicemail, but I know better. If I don’t answer now, she’ll keep calling.

I clear my throat and wipe the snot from my face before answering, “Hey Em.”

“Wren? Are you okay? It sounds like you’ve been crying.”

And just like that the tears begin to fall again.

“I’m on my way,” she says without any hesitation. She always knows when I need her. Seconds later, my phone falls from my hand and onto the pavement.

* * *

I make direct eye contact with Blake, and my feelings from earlier come back to bite me. All I can think is of course, he’s gotten hotter after all these years .

Now that I have the chance to really look at him, he’s devastatingly handsome. It appears he’s finally gained the ability to grow facial hair because he has the perfect amount of light scruff that makes him look more manly than the boy I once knew. I can’t quite make out the rest of his features in the dim lighting of the bar, but I think if I were any closer, I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool.

Six years ago, I hit a low point in my life because of him. When I moved away for college, I was dead set on making it work with Blake and it was heartbreaking when he didn’t feel the same way.

We had a plan to go to the same school and eventually move back to Honey Grove together. But knowing what I know now, I was na?ve for thinking first loves are forever. When he decided he didn’t want me, it made me feel like I couldn’t be loved. Hell, it took me a long time to learn how to love myself again.

I finally break my stare after getting bumped into by some couple drunkenly holding onto each other attempting to dance. I take that as my cue to end this prolonged standoff that no one asked for.

I start walking toward my best friend when Blake is suddenly pulled away by a petite arm connected to a small blonde girl.

A wave of nausea hits me when I see her wrap her arms around him and I feel the crowded room closing in on me. My heart is beating in my ear drums, and I feel my body overheating as my breathing becomes uneven. I turn around and head for the bathroom.

Thankfully there isn’t a line which is rare for a bar crowded with intoxicated humans. I find an empty sink and splash my face with cold water, ignoring the fact that my mascara is probably going to run. I need to calm down before I have a full-on panic attack and become front page news tomorrow morning. I can’t do this here.

I sense someone burst into the bathroom, but I can’t hear anything over my own heartbeat right now. My body is going into shutdown mode.

I look up from the sink and see Emma in the reflection of the dirty mirror. She turns me around and I can read her lips telling me to breathe in and out. I follow her directions and focus on my breathing.

After a few minutes of Emma holding me, I finally get my breathing and heart rate under control. The heat begins to leave my body and I experience a wave of coolness from the fan above us.

“Are you okay?” Emma asks as I snap out of my almost-panic attack. I take a sip of the wine cooler I forgot I was carrying around and feel the relief of something cold sliding down my throat. “Yeah. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know . . . I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s been six years.”

“Wren, this is one of the first times you’ve seen him since you left. Let alone one of the first times you’ve seen him with another girl. It’s completely normal to react like that. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

I am embarrassed though. I don’t let guys affect me like that anymore.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Now that I’m out of my anxiety bubble, I realize I just put on a show for some of the girls in the tiny restroom with us right now. Thankfully, Emma scares them off with her infamous dirty look.

“Do you want to leave? We can head back to my place and just hang out. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he would be here.”

I can’t leave now. If I left, he would know he got to me, and I can’t let him have the upper hand. I have to show him I’ve been doing great these past few years without him.

“A lot has happened today, but I’ll be fine. I need a drink to calm down a little.”

Not a good idea , my subconscious whispers in the back of my head, but my pride stamps it down.

Emma looks reluctant, but she agrees and takes the other wine cooler from me as we exit the bathroom. My eyes scan the crowded room for any sign of my ex-boyfriend. I can’t be ambushed like that again.

* * *

After three more wine coolers, two shots, and one vodka Sprite, I’m feeling warm and tingly all over.

The crowd is working in my favor now as I let loose and dance with Emma in the middle of the bar. We’re perfectly shielded from any irritatingly handsome men with dates that are entirely too perky to compete with.

I pull myself back to the tiny space we’ve cleared on the dance floor. I can’t remember the last time I just carelessly danced like this. It’s moments like this when I’m yelling song lyrics and twirling my best friend around our old stomping grounds that I do miss this town.

I had a group of girls I would go out with back in Cleveland, but all those relationships felt surface-level. None of them even blinked an eye when I told them I was moving back home. It was nice to feel free and happy in this tiny bubble we’d created in the middle of the Rustic Inn.

The speaker switches over to a slow song and we give each other the look that it’s time to take a break. I follow Emma over to an empty table in the corner. The bar is still crowded, but some people have started to clear out for the night. And by some people, I mean anyone over the age of thirty-five.

I plop down next to Emma and giggle when we bump into each other. She’s switched over to water while I’m still going strong with my cocktail sitting in front of me. My gaze sweeps over the dance floor, expecting to land on Blake and his date.

I decide that I couldn’t care less if he’s here with a date. I had most certainly moved on since him . . . I’ve moved on plenty of times. It would be unfair of me to think he hasn’t done the same. I do however hope this new girl isn’t serious. Relationships are one area I hadn’t been able to master.

Emma asks if I need to use the restroom and I shake my head before sipping on my drink like a child. I should probably switch over to water soon, too. The room is starting to get a bit blurry, and I can feel my delightful buzz heading to sloppy drunk.

I mindlessly gaze at my phone until I feel a presence. I look up from my phone to find a semi-attractive boy trying to say something, but of course, I can’t hear him. He takes my confused expression as an invitation to lean over and whisper in my ear.

“Do you want to dance?” the stranger asks.

I try to think of an excuse while I search for Emma. As I’m looking toward the bathroom, I land on two familiar green eyes. This time he’s standing next to a group of guys with no date in sight. It’s hard to explain but it feels like he’s been trying to catch my attention all night. I quickly break eye contact, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting my attention twice in one night.

I refocus on the semi-attractive guy standing in front of me as I surprise myself and say, “Sure!” I grab his hand and let him pull me into the middle of the room.

I feel eyes on me, and I know exactly who they belong to. The alcohol coursing through my veins and years of resentment dare me to make him feel exactly how I did seeing another woman draped over him. I decide to fend off any rational thoughts until tomorrow. Tonight, I am allowed to be reckless. Just like he’d been reckless with my heart all those years ago.

I let the stranger pull me close before I lean into his ear and ask for his name. He responds, “it’s Adam. You’re Wren, right?”

I lean back to get a better look at him, but his face is still unfamiliar. He pulls me in close again and says, “you went to school with my older sister.” He tells me her name and I recognize it, but don’t remember her having a little brother.

Then I panic and say, “yeah, I remember her. Exactly how old are you?”

He smirks. “Relax, I just turned twenty-one. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were always too far up Blake Fisher’s ass to notice anyone else. I was surprised to hear you two broke up, but it worked out for me though.”

The small mention of Blake brings me back to the eyes I felt on me earlier, but when I look to see if he’s still standing in the corner, he’s gone. I suddenly feel the need to escape this man’s arms immediately.

“Oh yeah, that was years ago though. We were just kids,” I laugh nervously. “Will you excuse me? I need to go find my friend.”

Adam lets me go and I’m grateful he didn’t try to get me to stay. I know how to deal with guys who can’t take the hint, but I’m feeling extra vulnerable tonight, and I’m not in the mood to put someone in their place.

I push my way through the sea of people back to the table where I was waiting for Emma. She’s still there, but she looks pissed. She motions outside and based on her body language, I can tell she’s ready to leave. I follow her out to the side porch of the bar and as soon as we escape the craziness of what’s inside, she turns and faces me.

“I thought we were supposed to hang out tonight and you ditch me to go dance with some random guy? I know seeing Blake again must be tough, but at least give me a heads up,” Emma says, crossing her arms in disappointment.

“It wasn’t a big deal. I was gone for like five minutes,” I argue, brushing off her feelings. I understand why she’s upset but I feel the need to defend my actions in my drunken state.

My response puts her on edge.

“Wasn’t a big deal? You know what? I don’t feel like doing this right now. Let’s go.”

After an entire day of feeling like I can’t do anything right, I cement myself in place.

“I’m staying here. I’ll call my brother and see if he can pick me up.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” she deadpans.

“Well, I’m not ready to leave,” I argue.

I see her eyes dart back and forth, debating her next move. Finally, she shrugs in defeat and says “fine, have it your way.”

And just like that, Emma leaves me alone on the Rustic Inn porch. I feel like I want to cry after the rollercoaster of a day I’d had, but I take a deep breath and take out my cellphone. My lock screen is completely clear, void of any texts from my so-called friends back in the city. I had scared my only real friend off.

I push my feelings aside for the time being and navigate to my brother’s contact before pausing as my thumb hovers over the call button. I’m still irritated with him for earlier and I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret. I swallow my pride and press call, not wanting to bother my poor dad this late at night.

He answers groggily after a few rings. “Wren? Is everything okay.”

“Yeah! I’m at the Rustic Inn and I’m wondering if you could pick me up. Just like old times?” I feel pathetic after adding that last line. I am not a teenager anymore. This isn’t one of those moments I’ll look back at and laugh. I’m old enough to know better.

“I thought Emma drove?”

“Funny story. I’m an asshole and she left me here,” I chuckle nervously and hope he quits questioning me. Then I hit him with the old, “I can call Dad if you can’t. It’s fine, Chris.”

That does the trick, and he lets me know he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. My buzz is starting to wear off slightly and I’m tempted to go back inside and get another drink, but I stop myself and saunter over to the part of the porch that faces the lake.

Other than a few people smoking, it’s quiet outside and peaceful compared to inside the bar. The lake across the road is calm enough to see the reflection of the sky. The scene is the opposite of the debauchery happening across the road and I can’t help but smile at two opposites existing in harmony.

I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the lake when I feel someone lean against the railing next to me. I’m expecting it to be the guy from earlier, but I recognize the earthy yet fresh scent with a hint of mint. I bought that cologne for him for Christmas however many years in a row. He used to bathe in the stuff.

“Hello, Blake,” I say, deciding to get the first word in this time.

“Wow, she does speak. I almost forgot how your voice sounded after all these years. I figured you were just going to keep running away from me.”

I take a deep breath and face him, which is a bad idea. He’s so much hotter up close. His jaw line has hardened over the past few years, and it looks like other parts of him have hardened as well.

He’s always been strong, but his clothes used to hang on him not hug him like they are now. I don’t think I’ve ever been angry with someone for being too attractive, but I guess there’s a first for everything.

I almost forget to come back with a smart remark, but I quickly recover.

“It’s hard to run away when you keep stalking me.”

He smiles which in turn makes him even more attractive. My stupid hormones are going crazy, and I need to get rid of him soon or who knows what I’ll do.

“What do you want Blake? I’m not in the mood for a reunion.”

He turns his back toward the railing and leans back with his arms crossed. My stupid weak mind notices his flexed biceps right away.

“Your brother called me. Said you needed a ride?”

This is not happening. I can’t get into an enclosed space with this man right now.

“Nope. There’s no way Chris thought that was a good idea. I’m calling him.”

I pull out my phone and of course, it’s dead. It’s like the universe is finally making me face my problems head on. I weigh my options for a moment and think of an escape plan. This is the perfect karma for being a jerk to Emma a few minutes ago.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Wren. It’s only a ten-minute drive and you can ignore me the entire time,” Blake says.

I wish I could ignore you , I think to myself.

I stay silent for a moment, but ultimately decide he’s my best option for getting home. Chris must think he’s a real comedian.

“Fine,” I say as I turn around. “Let’s go.”

I don’t wait for him to follow; I head out to the parking lot and do my best to locate the black truck I saw earlier.

“This way,” Blake says catching up to me. Yet again, I have a perfect view of his ass. I really hate that I’m still attracted to him after six years.

“You’re practically burning a hole into my ass staring at it like that,” Blake says smugly.

I feel my face heat up and the embarrassment of getting caught checking out my ex is plain as day on my face.

“I—uh. I wasn’t checking you out,” I choke out.

“Well, I wasn’t sure before, but based on your reaction, now I’m certain.”

I usually feel more confident after having a few drinks, but I’m completely flustered around this man. This whole interaction is making me feel nauseous. Or it might just be all the alcohol I drank on an empty stomach.

We finally reach his truck, and he walks over to open the door for me.

“I’ve got it,” I say before he can get any closer.

Once I open the passenger door to his truck, I know exactly why this truck looked so familiar on the farm earlier. It’s the same pick-up Blake owned in high school just with a different paint job. The interior of the vehicle looks exactly like it did when we were teenagers, but maybe a bit tidier. Blake notices my hesitation as he hops in the driver’s seat.

“Did you change your mind again?”

My attention snaps to him. It’s odd seeing him in that driver’s seat again. It’s also odd that I’m about to sit in the exact spot where I lost my virginity. I swallow the burning sensation pooling in the back of my throat and hop up into the seat.

As I buckle my seat belt, I see the dent in the glovebox where I accidently kicked it with my boot after we were switching positions. My cheeks heat up as I trace the dent with my finger. Blake notices the action while he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Yeah, it’s kind of crazy how much this old truck has been through.”

I lean back in my seat fully intending to take his offer and ignore him for the rest of the ride. That probably would’ve been better than what I was about to ask.

“I thought I saw you with a girl earlier. Why are you going home alone?”

“Well, not entirely alone,” he counters quickly with a wink. “I started out the night with a date, but I decided to stay behind when she wanted to leave. Chris told me to keep an eye on you if I saw you out.”

I should be upset that Chris felt like I needed a babysitter, but I’m more disappointed Blake’s stares were more protective than jealous.

“You don’t have to look after me. I’m fine.”

“Chris has just been worried about you. He knew I was going to be at the bar tonight, so he wanted me to make sure you didn’t do anything too reckless.”

My stomach drops. That means Chris has been telling Blake about how big of a failure I am. I guess I don’t get to have my I’m doing way better without you moment because he knows exactly how things are going for me. I contemplate throwing myself out of the moving vehicle to avoid any more humiliation tonight, but that might be a little dramatic. Effective, but dramatic.

“Good to know Chris still doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut,” I mumble to myself. I know he means well, but this just feels like an attack.

A few moments of silence echo between us as I stare out the window. This man used to be my person and now he feels like a stranger sitting next to me. I used to feel safe inside this truck, but now I just want the memories to quit reminding me of how much happier I was back then.

Light catches on something hanging from the truck’s rearview mirror. I turn my head to see a chain dangling with a ring attached to the end. Without thinking, my hand reaches out to get a better look. Before I can touch it, Blake intercepts me and yanks the chain from its mount. I snap my hand back to my lap and feel my eyebrows push together in confusion.

“What the he?—”

“It’s just an old family ring that my mom gave to me,” he says before reaching across me to shove it in the glovebox. “I don’t like when people touch it.”

I don’t question him any further and drop the subject completely. All I want is to get home so I can curl up in my bed. I am so over this night.

After another period of awkward silence, I can feel Blake’s mind reeling. He clears his throat awkwardly and says, “Listen Wren, I know you’re not thrilled about Chris and I being close again, but I just . . . I didn’t realize how much I missed being his friend. I hope you can understand that I’m not trying to screw with you or anything. I was hoping we could get to a place where we could become friends. Like we were before everything went to shit.”

If we weren’t a few minutes away from my house I think I would’ve had him pull over and let me out. I’m too drunk to have a heart-to-heart with him and I haven’t even had time to process this whole situation.

“Good to know you thought our relationship was shit,” I say dryly.

He runs his free hand roughly through his hair and says, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Here’s the deal. I’m not giving you the bullshit heartfelt moment you’re looking for, okay? You’re the one that screwed up any chance of us being friends. Ever. You hurt me and I have every right to be upset about it for as long as I want to. Just because my family decided to forgive you does not mean I’m on the same page. I’ve got too much shit on my plate right now to be the bigger person.”

Now that I’ve got myself all worked up, I can feel the alcohol start to turn in my stomach. I roll down the window hoping the fresh air will help.

My reply seems to shut Blake up because he’s silent for the last bit of the ride. We finally make it home and I’ve never been so relieved to get out of this truck. Well, not since that night .

I go to open the door and make a run for the bushes when Blake says, “I’m sorry, Wren. For everything. There’s not . . .”

I cut him off as I feel the bile rise in my throat.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I say before hanging my head out the window. I feel Blake pull my hair back before I puke down the side of his truck.

“Well, I didn’t make it to the bushes tonight.”