Chapter Thirty-One Han
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
HAN
I woke up with the biggest smile on my face. I felt like I could take on the world. But when I rolled over, Kenny wasn’t in bed anymore. I rolled onto my back and sighed, still unable to wipe the smile from my mouth. I was a bit of a blanket hog, so maybe that’s why Kenny had left.
I hugged my sheets, pressing them against my face. I felt like if I didn’t grab on to something tight, I’d just float away, but I needed to stay grounded. For once, I wanted to be exactly where I was. Life was good.
When I moved to get out of bed, I realized I’d left my crutches in the living room by the couch, but that couldn’t ruin my morning. Nothing could. I didn’t even care that I had to go back to work today for a ten-hour shift where I’d be working on one foot. Well, I cared, but I was somehow more concerned about having to leave Kenny than having to work with a sprained ankle. What the hell was my problem? I couldn’t find a fuck to give. I was happy .
Daniel had me scheduled for the late shift today, and since I didn’t have to go to work yet, I took my time in the comfort of my bed. After a while, I decided I’d rather be with Kenny than in bed. I got up and hopped my way to the door, then to the living room, where one of my crutches was lying on the ground. Kenny was sitting on the couch drinking coffee. There was an extra mug for me on the coffee table, like always.
“Thanks, babe,” I said, feeling a sense of freedom at using the nickname without witnesses or alcohol to coax it out of me. But Kenny didn’t smile at the term like he had the night before.
“Are you riding home with Tatiana after work, or should I get you?” was all he said.
“We get off at the same time, so I’ll just ride with Tatiana. But, um, you okay?”
Kenny just shook his head. “I don’t know… I have to go lie down. I’ll get up to take you to work,” Kenny said, then got up and left without another word. I wondered again if I’d done something wrong.
A sense of dread washed over me as realization hit. Kenny must have been having regrets about the night before. Serious regrets. Sure, we were drunk, but it had still felt genuine to me. Maybe for Kenny it was different. Maybe it was just a drunken mistake. Embarrassment heated my cheeks, and my chest sank at the rejection.
I wasn’t usually the one to want to talk things through, and today was no exception. I just sat on the couch watching The Great British Bake Off , but I was completely in my own head the whole time. Maybe if I didn’t address it, it would just go away. I could pretend like last night hadn’t happened. We could go back to being best friends and go through the wedding the way we had originally planned. It wouldn’t be too bad. It wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy being Kenny’s friend. I loved being Kenny’s friend. I could go back to that. I’d be happy to go back to that if it meant nothing else had to change between us. I only hoped he could write it off as a drunken mistake and not read too much into it, since he obviously didn’t feel the same way.
But he didn’t come out of his room until it was time for me to go to work. We had to leave a little earlier than usual, since it would take me a while to get down the stairs on my crutches. Pretty much the only conversation I got out of Kenny was him offering to hold my crutches while I used the railings to hop down, which was now my go-to method. Much faster.
Kenny still didn’t say anything during the car ride.
“We’re cool, right?” I asked. I couldn’t take not knowing.
“Yeah, we’re cool,” Kenny said, but it didn’t sound like we were cool.
“You sure?”
Kenny didn’t answer, just gripped the steering wheel with trembling hands.
“Look, man, we were drunk last night. Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.” It killed me to say it, but I would much rather erase the night before than lose the relationship I already had with Kenny.
He still didn’t say anything. His hands were gripping the wheel so hard that his knuckles were losing their color, and the car was going way faster than the speed limit.
“Kenny, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Fuck!” Kenny shouted. At me? Kenny yelling at me was the last thing I would have expected. I shut my mouth and looked out the window, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind. He finally let out a sigh. “After your shift, okay?”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you everything when you get home tonight.”
Before I could answer, I saw red and blue lights flashing in the side mirror out the window. We were being pulled over.
“Shit…” Kenny said. I couldn’t breathe. I clutched my chest, feeling it rising and falling much faster than it should.
“Just be cool. It’s all right, I’ll probably just get a ticket. You’ll be fine,” Kenny said, his voice a lot softer than it was before. But there was fear in Kenny’s eyes. That wasn’t fear of getting a speeding ticket. The fact that Kenny was worried made me worry even more. I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. In. Out. If I was hyperventilating, I would look suspicious. In. Out.
The officer walked up to the driver’s-side window, and Kenny lowered it. I put my hands on the dashboard where the cop could see them and stared forward.
“Morning, sir,” Kenny said. I kept my eyes forward. I didn’t want to make eye contact with the cop or I might cry.
“Do you have any idea why I pulled you over?” the officer asked.
“No, sir,” Kenny said, sounding way too innocent. Kenny told me you’re supposed to say no when a cop asks if you know why you’re being pulled over. Anything else would be an admission of guilt they could use against you.
“You were going twenty miles over the speed limit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” Kenny said. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“I’m going to need your registration and both of your licenses,” the officer said.
“But he wasn’t driving,” Kenny snapped, a little too harshly.
The cop raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason you can’t show me your license?” he asked directly to me.
“I don’t have a driver’s license, sir,” I said.
“Why do you need his identification?” Kenny asked. “He wasn’t driving. Here, take mine. I’m getting my registration from the glove compartment, that all right?” Kenny waited for the officer to nod before moving. He reached across and pulled out his registration, then took his license from his wallet and handed it over. He slyly reached for his phone while he got his license and started recording.
“I’m still going to need ID on both of you,” the officer said.
“Why do you need ID from someone who wasn’t driving?” Kenny asked, and the cop sighed. I knew exactly why. Good ol’ racial profiling.
“ID, or out of the vehicle.”
I felt my heart banging against my chest. I had a fake ID I could use, but I’d never tested out its validity with a cop before. If he realized it was fake, I’d definitely be arrested. The cars on the highway were already slowing down to get a good look.
Great. I would have an eager audience when it happened.
“I’m sorry, sir. I have my ID. I’ll give it to you,” I said, hoping to God the fake ID would be passable.
“All right, hand it over.”
I focused on breathing steadily while I reached for my wallet, pulling out my fake and handing it over.
Kenny kept recording, but the screeching of wheels scraping against the highway stole his attention as a car in the lane next to us rear-ended a white Expedition, which had slowed almost to a stop to get a peek at the “show.” The cop sighed. He glanced at our IDs, then at Kenny’s phone, where he was being recorded. Then he handed them back to Kenny.
“I’ll let you off with a warning this time.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
Kenny waited for the cop to pull over whoever rear-ended the Expedition before he drove away. But even after we started moving again, I couldn’t relax. No matter how much I focused, my breath came out ragged and quick, like I couldn’t take in enough air.
“Hey, it’s okay Han. It’s over now,” Kenny said, voice much softer than before.
“Did you have to agitate him?” I snapped, knowing I wasn’t really being fair.
“I was trying to help,” Kenny said, and I knew it was true. Kenny had just been trying to protect me. Still, though, he’d been snippy, and that no doubt contributed to why the cop kept insisting. If there hadn’t been an accident, who knew what would have happened to me. I could have been taken to a detention center with no showers and barely any food for who knew how long. After all my years living in the States, I’d never come that close to getting caught. I felt tears pulling at my lashes, but they didn’t fall. I blinked them back.
When we got to the restaurant, I rushed as quickly as I could on my crutches. When I got inside to clock in, seeing the time made me panic even more. I was fifteen minutes late.
Luckily, Daniel didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t say anything. I powered all the way through the dinner rush without confrontation. The pain in my foot was a good distraction from the cop this morning and from my anxiety that Daniel might call me out for being late. I worked through the pain until closing time at midnight, when he finally called me into his office.
“What’s up?” I said as I awkwardly sat down in the office chair. Not really knowing what to do with the crutches, I just laid them on the floor.
“I noticed you clocked in late today. What was that about?”
Dammit. So he had noticed. “Kenny and I got pulled over on our way here. We got here as soon as we could.”
“You know I have a no-tolerance policy for unexcused tardiness and absences.”
My breath caught in my throat, and it was hard to get the next words out. “I’m sorry, sir. I haven’t been late once since I’ve been here. I can stay late to make up for the time I missed, or work through my break. Whatever you need. I swear it won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t happen again.”
I nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
Daniel gave an exasperated sigh. “No, I mean, I can literally guarantee it won’t happen again.”
“What do you mean?” I shifted in my seat.
“I mean you’re fired, Alejandro.”