17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Mac
With every day that the band gets closer to us leaving, Jordan pulls away from me.
It started with having Peach take me home the night that we found out about the tour and continued with him shutting me out in every way. Even when we are in the same room, he’s avoided me. He hasn’t come to my apartment to check in. Hasn’t slept near me. Hasn’t called.
Today will be the third day in a row that I haven’t even seen him .
Instead, Peach has been hanging out as if their assignments have changed and everyone forgot to tell me.
The ache in my chest has burrowed deeper with each moment that passes without Jordan, steadily feeding into something uglier I’ve done my best to tame.
But when I call him for the second time, hoping he’ll pick up and tell me he’ll meet us at the airport, and I get sent straight to voicemail, I lose it.
Did he figure out I’m in love with him?
The keys to my car cut into my palm with how hard I grip them. The elevator too slow. The drive too long. My pulse too high.
And when I pull up outside of Aria’s shop, the blanket of a cloudy night feeling like just another added weight on my shoulders, I storm through the front entrance with purpose.
“Mac, what the hell are you doing here? Where’s Peach?”
My chest pumps with my pants. “Fuck Peach. And fuck you .”
Jordan jolts like my words are a physical slap and stands from his little stool.
“What is your fucking deal?” I seethe, pointer finger digging into his chest and as much as I loathe the feeling, it’s the first thing I have felt other than dread in days.
Does he hate me?
“ Me ?” Jordan scoffs and swats my hand away, but steps closer. “Let’s go outside.”
“No.”
His jaw clenches.
And even though I don’t want to give him anything, I spin and punch my way back outside. Black skies greet me, their weight unloading the moment my Chucks hit the sidewalk.
Convenient.
“So, what is it?” I ask over the sound of the incoming storm, the rain pelting the pavement, and throw my arms out even though my heart is beating out of my chest. “Tell me what I did.”
Did I fuck this all up somehow?
Jordan shakes his head, his eyes dropping to my feet as his shoulders lift with an inhale. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Mac.”
“Then what is it?” I shout and drop my arms, slapping them against my wet thighs. “How? How can my best friend not give a shit about something so amazing?”
His shoulders just lift.
“ A second European tour , Jordan.”
His eyes snap up to mine.
“I’m proud of you, Mac. You know I am.”
I let loose a growl, my hands going to my head and dig into my wet hair. “ That’s not the fucking point .”
“I know,” he mutters. “But I wanted you to hear that.”
It all feels so fucking heavy . Like he’s keeping shit from me. Hiding behind a damn facade he’s never, ever, used on me and time’s running out.
I’m supposed to be on an airplane by now.
My sight goes skyward, the burn from my eyes mixing with the rain covering my face.
“Say it, Jordan.”
His sigh is audible enough to draw my sight and the hurt in his eyes makes my chest ache so fucking deep.
“You deserve this.” His nostrils flare, though those navy blues swim with something so deep that I can’t look away. “You don’t need me for it.”
There’s a punch of defeat that twists up my insides.
He’s not coming with me.
“You need to go, Mac.”
I bite my lip to keep it from wobbling.
Doesn’t he know?
“Jordan,” I croak into the rain when he shakes his head. “Why can’t you come with me?” I whisper to the storm, too afraid to hear the answer, but unable to walk away until I do.
“It’s … I—”
I do need you.
IneedyouIneedyouIneedyou.
“I’ll be here when you get back, okay?” he says when I can’t get the words out. His smile is the fakest thing I’ve ever seen, and it hurts . “Be the wild rockstar in Europe. Who knows, maybe you’ll like it more.”
He takes a step back and I’m too shocked to call out. Then another I can’t stop. Another. Until he’s walking back inside my sister’s store, and I’m left in the wake of his destruction.
I’m out of time.
“But we’re best friends …” I whisper to the rain through numb lips, though I know it’s too late. “Right?”
He’s already gone.