Chapter Thirty-Two
I had come to a very mature decision when I got home that I needed to take a step back from things with Luke for a minute.
That’s rational, right? Totally. No one would blame you for needing some time.
There was the whole issue of me refusing to hear him out in person and ignoring his texts this afternoon…
but I wasn’t ready to hear that yet. If I was right about him flirting with some girl, then I was an idiot.
And if I was wrong , and I lost my shit on him anyway, again , I was still an idiot.
So, ignoring seemed like a viable strategy.
And honestly, that worked for, like, three whole days.
It was odd to lose most of my close friends in a relatively short period of time.
I was never without company if I wanted it, as I had acquaintances aplenty, but it wasn’t the same.
Kim and I were talking more often, but it felt like we were trying to remember our past friendship rather than move forward with our current one.
Cheer was good, and, as it turned out, a lot of the other girls were cool, and I just hadn’t gotten to know them because I was always with Liv.
So, silver linings. But I still felt like I was on my own.
It dawned on me those three days later while picking up the basement, that who I missed the most wasn’t Kim, or Liv, or even Courtney, but Luke. That realization was a punch to the gut.
What the hell was I doing? I had spent weeks telling myself I needed to get back to who I was before Zack, but I was still letting him control me.
Still letting fear make my decisions. I was avoiding Luke not because I didn’t want him, but because I was terrified of wanting anyone again.
Because what if I was wrong about him too?
What if I let myself fall and he turned out to be just as manipulative, just as willing to hurt me?
But then I thought about the way he’d looked at me in that parking lot—like someone who would rather take a beating than watch me get hurt.
The way he’d respected my boundaries even when I was falling apart.
The way he talked about my basement project to Ethan like he was genuinely proud of something I’d accomplished.
Zack had never been proud of anything about me except how I looked in a short dress.
I was still afraid, but I was more afraid of letting that bastard steal something else from me.
Luke wasn’t Zack. And I wasn’t the same girl who’d fallen for pretty words and cheap manipulation.
I was stronger now, smarter. And maybe that meant I was strong enough to take a real risk on someone who’d already proven he was worth it.
I had spent so much time worried about getting back to who I was and not letting other people define me, but I was still doing it. I was still afraid and still stuck and I was so fucking sick of it.
“Mom!” I yelled, my voice harshly interrupting the silence.
“Yes?”
“Can I borrow the car to run to the store?”
“Sure! Keys are on the table!”
While I always liked to be the recipient of grand gestures, the idea of being the giver of such a favor both excited me and went against my very clear rule about opening myself up to rejection.
Once again, however, my very nature of doing first and thinking later won out, and I was in the car singing along to a playlist of old school divas on my way to the supermarket. Their confidence overshadowed my uncertainty.
After suffering through the odd looks from the grocery store clerk, I was armed with a seemingly random peace offering and on my way to Luke’s. I’d never been to his house before, but I knew roundabout where he lived and figured I’d see his truck outside.
By the time I pulled into his neighborhood, my hands were shaking on the steering wheel. What if he slammed the door in my face? What if he’d already moved on? What if I was about to make a fool of myself with a bag full of random gifts like some stalker ex-girlfriend?
I tried to explain to myself that it had only been a few days while I searched for his truck along the street. I found it, and while there wasn’t really a “bad part” of Fox Falls, some comments he made about his life were beginning to make sense.
Pulling open the chain link gate, I traversed the cracked paved walkway to the screen door at the front of the house, passing some overgrown weeds on my way.
In the absence of a doorbell, I knocked loudly, the metal of the door clanging loudly against its frame.
I could hear Luke’s 180-pound self lumbering down the stairs before the inner door swung open.
“Vanessa,” he stated like it was a question.
“Lucas.”
“Whaaat are you doin’ here?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me in?”
“Wasn’t planning on it, no.”
“Were you planning on at least opening the screen door?”
“Hadn’t thought about it.”
“Fine, will you just come out here, then? I have something for you.”
“Is it a big fat apology?”
I was really starting to regret my impulsive visit.
“There is a possibility that it includes a small, skinny apology.”
He snorted but pushed open the remaining barrier between us and stepped onto the porch. He wasn’t exactly dressed for the weather in an undershirt and gym shorts.
“Were you working out?” I asked, now nervous about the speech I’d hastily thrown together in my head while driving there. Looking at him was also proving distracting.
“Does it matter?” he asked, more annoyed than I thought he’d be.
“What’s your problem?” I asked, ready to take the gifts and get back in my car .
“My problem is that you’re jerking me around, V. You can only push me away or ignore me so many times before I’ll stop coming back. You can’t just kiss me one day and decide I’m your punching bag the next.”
My face flamed at his rather accurate accusation, but I tried not to let it show in my eyes. He was right, and we both knew it. I had been jerking him around—not because I wanted to hurt him, but because I was terrified of being hurt again. But how could I explain that without sounding pathetic?
“I…” I trailed off, my lips pressing together.
“Uh-huh. What’s in the bag?”
So he is curious , I realized, some of my confidence returning.
“Before I launch into that…who was the girl?”
“Again, I ask, does it matter?”
“I don’t know. It might.” I had come with the intention of offering him at least friendship, but it was eating me alive wondering why he was hugging Girl X in the hall.
“That was Aimes’ sister. You went to school with her for three years. She graduated one year before us,” he stated, giving me no further information.
He was going to make me work for this one. I was annoyed because I did know her. She’d played basketball at Fox Falls High.
“Okay…why were you hugging Troy’s sister?” I asked through clenched teeth, trying desperately to remain civil.
“I wasn’t. She was hugging me.”
“Because…”
He simply raised his eyebrows at me suggestively.
“God, never mind. This was a stupid idea. I’ll be going.”
Luke only chuckled at my discomfort.
“I had been helping her get ready for her season. Their starting point guard got injured and she wanted that spot. Troy’s parents paid me to like, I don’t know, coach her.
She found out she got the starting spot, and she came to say thank you.
It was not quite the clandestine rendezvous you imagine.
And I would have explained that to you had you just talked to me instead of kicking a trash can and giving me the silent treatment. ”
“Why didn’t Troy help her?” I asked, ignoring his rather accurate observation.
“Because Troy’s an ass, and to be honest, he’s not as good as me. But I could use the money regardless, so I helped. I don’t need to explain myself in this case. You, however, do. So, what’s in the bag?”
My cheeks warmed remembering my aggressive reaction with the trash can. It wasn’t my best moment. I hated that I now questioned everyone’s motives about everything after this whole Zack nightmare, plus Liv…I just wanted to go back to being the old me.
I cleared my throat and sat on a worn-out cushioned chair on his porch, still wondering how he wasn’t noticeably shivering, and began to take items out of the bag.
“I…I do sort of owe you an apology. Not sort of. I do. And I miss hanging out with you…as a friend,” I added quickly, not ready for this to be a declaration of feelings.
First, I pulled out a package of Red Vines and Milk Duds and held them out for him.
“I know how much you enjoyed having candy in your, well, whatever, it sounded funnier in my head and not so inappropriate, but here,” I said quickly, shoving the candy towards him.
He grinned and sat down next to me, taking the boxes. “Are you blushing thinking about things in my pants?”
“Shut up or I’m not giving you the rest of the present.”
He held up his hands in surrender, and I continued. Next, I handed him the DVD of Die Hard and a Backstreet Boys CD with the song he’d played for me in the park on it.
“Aw, how nice of you to buy me an expensive coaster,” he joked, gesturing to the CD.
“Yeah, yeah, you know you’re gonna listen to it and think of me,” I shot back, feeling more like myself now that he’d dropped the cold and stony facade. Next up, I held out a sheet of cliché temporary tattoos. Some barbed wire, a heart, and a lightning bolt included. He took them skeptically.
“To show off your guns,” I elaborated. He grinned at that and flexed, winning him an eye roll. With hesitation, I held out a tiny plastic horse.
“What is this one for?”
“Homecoming.”
“Ah, HORSE. Got it.”
“And not just that. You…well, you’re the only one who cared about…or asked me if I was okay. I never said thank you. Because this is awkward.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes at that point, just willing him to know that he had taken care of me without me even realizing that I needed it.
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he mentioned softly, nudging my shoulder with his.