Chapter Twenty-Nine #3
They start talking again, and a business owner who sailed over from North Pender to hear the speeches walks up.
More handshakes, more platitudes. I lose track of the number of times Sid says the words have you met my wife.
My cheeks ache from smiling. I spot the same reporter who interviewed us at the Reinventor’s Guild tour snapping photos with her phone camera in between peppering candidates with more questions.
It’s almost an hour before the hubbub dies down enough that Amy Sullivan has time to greet us. Her face burns as bright as her red hair. No doubt she’s riding high off her success. Before either of us can say anything, she’s thrown her arms around Sid in a hug.
“Wasn’t tonight brilliant? You did great, Sid. Tom sends his compliments too, but his leg was bugging him, so he went home.”
Thank goodness for that. I’m so sick of him taunting me with that smug grin of his whenever we see each other. Like he’s just waiting for the right time to strike.
Amy lets Sid go—and stuns me by embracing me with the same enthusiasm. I’m hit in the face by rose-scented perfume. “And it’s so good to see you again, Kayla.”
“Yeah, you too.” I think I might even mean it.
I still don’t love the fact that she knows so many of my deep, dark secrets, but ever since I kissed Sid, I’ve been forced to confront the idea that she was right about us.
That maybe means she was sincere that night too, when she asked me not to hurt him.
Am I hurting him? I can’t tell anymore.
“You were great tonight,” says Sid. “Perfect, really.”
“Thanks.” She shrugs. “Tom says I didn’t have enough personal content, because of course I had to have done something wrong.”
“You sure you want to work in the same office as him?” Sid asks.
“You sure you do?”
They both laugh. I half-heartedly join in, but I don’t have much to offer.
Soon, they’re arguing about which candidates they think performed best, and my opinion is irrelevant.
It stings more than it should. It’s not my fault that I don’t understand this world, and Sid has never tried to make me feel guilty about it.
But watching them, I’m struck by how little I fit with him.
Even if we both started out as immigrants, even if we both come from messed up backgrounds, he’s one of them now.
It feels so ridiculous that he ever kissed me or said he wanted me.
He could do so much better. He deserves so much better.
They’re interrupted when the haircut belonging to the Patterson family wanders into the conversation with an invitation to join him and a few other select people (seriously, this guy) for drinks at a nearby pub.
Amy crows with delight and even Sid is enthusiastically agreeing.
Looks like he’s getting over his dislike of Bradley after all.
But I know I can’t take another second of this, so instead, I make a dramatic display of yawning.
“That all sounds lovely, but I think I’m going to head home. Have a good time, babe.” This time, I move quickly so that I do land the kiss on his cheek. I release his hand and start walking towards the exit.
“Bradley, Amy, would you please excuse me for a second?”
They both mutter agreement and Sid runs up behind me. I quicken my pace, wanting to be outside before we boil over.
“You want to go home now?” Sid asks.
“Yes.”
“Fine,” he sighs, falling into step, but I speed up even more.
“I said I want to go home. You don’t have to. Go out with your friends.”
“Kayla, I’m not leaving you.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s late and you don’t know this end of the island—”
“I’m not a child, Sid! You don’t have to babysit me. Just go. Honestly? I would rather you did.”
That draws him to a standstill. “What?”
“I did what I promised tonight. I posed as your wife, gave you someone to show-off. I’m done.” I continue walking toward the bus stop. “I did my job, now you can do yours. Go out with your friends. Have a drink. Smoke a cigarette—”
“You’re still mad about that?”
“I’m not mad about anything! You’ve got a right to live your own life, same as me.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere without you,” he says, drawing close again. And unfortunately, I have now reached the bus stop. I have no excuse to keep walking.
“Well, I’m not going out to dinner with Bradley Patterson.”
“Sure! Fine. So we go home.”
“No, I go home. We don’t need to do anything!”
“But we’re a team. And we just had an amazing night. If I’m going to celebrate with anyone—”
“We can’t celebrate together.”
“I didn’t mean that,” he says. “You told me you want to stay friends. Friends still celebrate each other’s victories—”
“I can’t. Not tonight. I… I’m sorry.”
A wagon trundles up to the bus stop and I’ve never been so relieved.
I pull myself onto the step, but Sid won’t leave me be, waiting for his turn to board.
Frustrated and desperate, I spin around on the step and plant my mouth against his.
It only lasts a second, but I make no attempts to hold back every raw and aching thing I’m feeling.
My mouth breaks from his and I push him, hard, away from the wagon.
“Don’t you dare follow me.” My voice trembles.
As the wagon pulls away, I watch the waves of confusion and anguish break over his face. What have I done?
One kiss, and I’ve lost the only friend I had on this island.