30. Kelsey
Chapter thirty
Kelsey
I was more than a little surprised when I returned home from my shift at the diner Friday afternoon, frozen to the bone from my walk through the icy November winds, and found Sebastian Martin, wearing a sporty blue jacket and a winter hat, sitting on the curb in front of Sunset Apartments. I hadn’t seen him since dropping him off at the hospital after that fateful soccer game, but at first glance, he looked like he was recovering well from his injury. At least, his knee brace was gone.
“Sebastian,” I said, alarmed. “Is everything alright?”
When he noticed me, he stood up with a wide smile on his face. “There you are. I was starting to get bored.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, less worried but still confused. “Do you want me to get Quen… Mr. Avery?”
“No, I’m here for you.” Sebastian held out a colorful piece of paper in one hand. “I wanted to give you this.”
I took a look. The yellow font on a blue background announced that Peter and the Starcatcher would be shown at Brightwater High School on Sunday night .
“I play Lord Aster,” Sebastian said, looking pretty proud of himself. “It’s a supporting role but not a bad part, considering I joined the drama club so late. Will you come?”
I was stunned. “You came all the way to give me this?”
He shrugged. “It’s not that far by bike. I thought you should be there and watch me since it was your idea I join.”
I was surprised that my words had actually made an impact. I knew Sebastian had a rough couple of months, and the fact that my suggestion had sparked something that brought him joy spread a warm feeling through my body. But of course, I couldn’t show him how moved I was. You can’t go all emotional with teenaged boys, or they’ll never take you seriously.
“How did you find out where I live, anyway?” I asked instead.
He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I knew you and Mr. Avery were neighbors, so I looked Mr. Avery’s address up in my dad’s files when I visited him at work.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Are you going to tell the police?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
“Obviously not.”
“See. No harm done. Originally, I wanted to put it in your mailbox, but then I realized I don’t know your last name. So I had to wait for you to come home to give it to you in person.”
I smiled. “Sebastian, this is really, really sweet. Illegal… but sweet.”
“So are you coming?”
“Of course I’m coming!”
I wasn’t exactly sure what the dress code for high school plays was, but I chose to err on the side of caution and put on my nicest skirt and a blouse. The fact that Quentin might be there played a major role in the decision to dress fancy. I didn’t want to run into my still-not-over-him ex in jogging pants.
I left the apartment at half past eight and took the bus to the school. It was already dark when I arrived, the school grounds only dimly lit by a few lamps along the footpaths connecting the buildings.
I joined the flock of families and friends making their way from the parking lot to the auditorium while half-melted snow crunched under my shoes and a sharp, chilly wind blew right through my jacket.
Thankfully, the school auditorium was well-heated, and I sighed in relief as I walked through the doors and felt the dry warmth on my cold skin.
A young girl with glasses stood at the door, a tin can in hand.
“A small donation for the drama department of Brightwater High?” she asked me.
“Oh, um… sure. Everything for the arts.” I fished out all the spare change I didn’t need for my bus ticket for the way back and dropped it in the tin can the girl was holding up, hoping she didn’t notice the meager amount. The girl nodded, satisfied, and waved me through the doors.
The auditorium was already packed with people. I looked around for a place to sit. It was a bit awkward, being all alone. Was it weird to go to a school play if it wasn’t even your kid?
“Kelsey! Over here.” It was Mr. Ortegas, waving his arm. He gestured toward an empty seat to his right.
I was relieved to see him and sat down on the hard and somewhat wobbly chair. “Thank you for saving me a seat,” I said. “I thought I had to watch the play stan—”
I almost choked on my words when Quentin appeared out of the crowd and steered toward the seat to Mr. Ortegas’s left .
Our eyes met. I felt myself blush, and I could see Quentin hesitate for a moment before he nodded courteously. I nodded back with a sorry attempt at a smile. Had I imagined it, or was there a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth?
Not exactly a warm welcome, but at least he wasn’t ignoring me. I wondered if he had gotten my GED results. Of course, he had gotten them, but had he read them? Was he proud of my achievements? Of me?
Quentin’s sudden appearance had thrown me into such turmoil that I was caught off guard when the curtain pulled back. A blond teenage boy stepped onto the stage and started reciting lines, but I was barely listening. I was acutely aware of Quentin’s presence, separated only by Mr. Ortegas, sitting between us.
I straightened my skirt with a nervous stroke of my hand. Did I look good? I tried to sit in a way that looked both attractive and relaxed, but that position made my legs tingly within minutes.
With half my brain, I noticed Sebastian entering the stage. Even in my Quentin-infused haze, I could tell he was giving a decent performance.
Ortegas leaned over, beaming with pride. “He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”
I nodded politely. “He has natural talent.”
When I moved back into my sexy-but-cool sitting pose, it happened. I caught Quentin’s eye. He had been looking at me! He averted his gaze as soon as our eyes met, but my heart sped up with joy.
Quentin had watched me! Maybe he wasn’t so over me, after all.
The rest of the play was a blur because I was way too busy monitoring Quentin out of the corner of my eye, waiting for another look.
To my disappointment, it did not come. The play was drawing to a close, and I was looking forward to it. Maybe we would exchange a few polite words of goodbye. That wasn’t much to hope for, but anything was better than the icy silence that was our current status quo .
Applause erupted as the teenage actors came out on stage for their final bows, and I clapped along with everyone else, but in my mind, I was preparing words I could say to Quentin. Sexy and cool.
After three rounds of applause, the final curtain fell, and everyone started to get up from their seats and shuffled toward the door. I was ready. I was eyeing Quentin like a hunter fixated on its prey, waiting for the right moment to approach him, but just as he stood up, Mr. Ortegas stepped in front of me.
“You are right,” he said. “I think Sebastian has natural talent. I’m so glad you talked him into joining the drama club.”
Unfortunately, I had zero bandwidth to discuss Sebastian’s extracurricular activities with his dad. “He’s got a bright future,” I said politely, trying to shove my way past him, but it was too late. Quentin had already walked away. Now, he was standing in a group of people, talking with them. I recognized the lady that had supervised my GED test, so I assumed the rest were teachers too, colleagues of Quentin.
My heart sank. No way could I approach him without making things super awkward for everyone involved.
Disappointed and downtrodden, I joined the stream of people leaving the auditorium. I hadn’t really expected anything groundbreaking to come from this evening. But still… It felt like a lost opportunity. Had he even properly acknowledged how hot I looked in my skirt?
I glanced back one last time, but he didn’t seem to notice me. Or maybe he didn’t want to notice me. One way or another, there was nothing I could do now but admit defeat and make my way to the bus station.
The evening had gotten even colder, and a depressing snow-rain drizzle had started. My feet were in my fancy high-heeled shoes, and my tights were itchy. All in all, I was already in a pretty miserable mood when I arrived at the bus station, checked the timetable, and saw that I had to wait thirty-eight minutes for the next bus home.
I let out a deep sigh, sat down on a hard plastic seat, and wrapped my arms around myself to protect against the cold of the night as I watched the drizzle turn into proper snowfall.
At least I’d made Sebastian happy. That must have been good for my karma, and I could use all the good karma I could get.
A voice yanked me out of my thoughts. “Do you need a ride?”
It was Quentin. I stood up so fast that I nearly stumbled over. Damn high heels. Quentin was just standing there with his hands in his pockets and a slight smile on his lips. He looked so unbelievably handsome in the orange light of the streetlamps, surrounded by dancing snowflakes, that I had trouble getting a straight sentence out.
“Yes.” I shook myself. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
“Come on, then.” With a nod of his head, Quentin gestured for me to follow him, so I did as quickly as my high heels carried me, trying not to slip on the half-frozen pavement.
We made the walk to his car in silence, but on the inside, I was squealing. He wanted to drive me home. This meant something. It had to mean something, right? It wasn’t just him being his polite and caring self?
He opened the door for me like the gentleman he was, and I climbed into the passenger seat.
With a racing heart, I watched as Quentin buckled himself in, started the engine, and drove out of the school’s parking lot.
Should I say something? All the cool sentences I’d prepared for him were gone.
He turned on the radio: jazz. Did that mean he did not want to talk? I risked a sideways glance. He looked surprisingly relaxed, considering how our last conversation had gone .
We’d made half the distance when Quentin finally broke the silence.
“Tongue-tied?” he asked.
I tensed. I considered some snarky quip, but playing it cool with him felt wrong.
“Yes,” I answered instead. “I’m not sure what to say to you. Or if it’s okay to say anything at all.” I made a cautious pause, taking in a deep breath. “This is difficult for me,” I finally admitted.
“It’s difficult for me too,” he said.
My stomach clenched. “I understand.”
We fell back into a weighty silence until we reached the Sunset Apartments.
Quentin parked the car, pulled the key out, and turned toward me. The look on his face was very serious. “Have you left him for good this time?”
I had expected almost everything, but not that question. “Yes,” I quickly said. “Yes, I handed him the divorce papers.”
Quentin nodded slowly.
“I’m not even sad, just relieved,” I added. Then my words ran away from me. “I have no idea what made me go back to him, but it’s over now. I promise it’s over. I never want to see or hear from him again.”
Quentin looked at me for a long while, like he was thinking through my words from many different angles. “Why did you go back?” he asked quietly. “‘No idea’ is not good enough for me.”
I took a deep breath to steady myself. Being so close to him again was unnerving. His scent surrounded me, his intense amber eyes fixed on my face.
“I have asked myself that a hundred times since I got back here,” I said. “I think… I think part of me still felt like… I deserved him. Like I deserved that kind of life. Like I’m not good enough for a high school diploma or college or my own damn life or…” My throat tightened up.
“Or?” Quentin asked.
“Or you.”
He furrowed his brows. “Oh, Kelsey, how could you possibly think that?” He reached out a hand, gently tucking away a stray strand of my hair.
His fingers brushed my cheek ever so slightly, but it sent an electric tingle down my spine.
“Was it something I did?” he asked. “Was it because I… held back?”
“No!” I said quickly. “Or… maybe. Maybe it triggered some fear in me that you just weren’t that into me because, well, because I’m messy me and you are amazing you. But I don’t want you to think any of this was your fault. It was me. I got scared. I ran away.”
“Are you still scared?”
“Hell yes,” I said, which made a faint smile appear on his face. “But I recently came to the conclusion that being scared and happy is better than being safe and unhappy.”
Quentin went quiet.