Chapter 33
Levi
“Tate, I know this is weird coming from me, but you’re being kind of quiet. Is something wrong?”
Ever since we split from her sister and Tim, both driving separately to the same location, Tate hasn’t said one word, and the silence is near earsplitting.
She huffs a laugh. “No, nothing’s wrong.
” Tate turns from the window to face me.
“I have a confession. A reporter cornered me by the bathrooms and I kind of...sort of...insinuated that you and Gabriella broke up...” Her words trail off, leaving a novel of things unsaid.
In many ways it’s the same conversation we left off on.
“Oh.” I reach up with my free hand, tracing the line of hair growing around my lips.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know what to say. This is my first fake relationship, so you telling someone I broke up with someone I’m not actually dating is a weird reality for me.”
“Sure,” she says, nodding, and for a minute it’s quiet again. I take the long way back to her rental, absorbing as much of her as I can.
“Why did you lie?” It’s a cheap question. I’m fishing for her to tell me she still likes me. I don’t know why, but I want to hear it.
“He called me fake.”
I tap the brakes harder than I mean to, swinging my head to look at her. “What? Why would he say that?”
“In his defense, it kind of looks that way. I just signed with Centricity and then the same day I’m caught kissing my ex who has a girlfriend.”
“He still shouldn’t talk to you like that. I wish you would have said something.”
“So, you could do what? Punch the guy?” She makes a face, sticking her tongue out like it’s a joke, like I wouldn’t. “It’s over, it’s fine. I’ll deal with the consequences of my actions should they arrive.”
Her folks’ Airbnb is about three stop signs away, but I’m just not done yet. I yank the steering wheel, pulling the car towards the nearest curb, our shoulders kissing in the process.
“Whoa, was there a squirrel or something?”
Laughter booms out of me, making her smile. “I’m sorry to tell you...I wouldn’t veer for a squirrel. Maybe a deer. But definitely not a squirrel.”
I watch her as she turns from me to the front windshield, the traffic lights bathing her in green, yellow, and then red.
“Alright, then what gives?” She turns back to me.
“I’m just not done yet.”
Everything that follows is purely audible. The click of the seat belt, the squeak of the center console under my weight, the smallest of sounds that escapes her lips when I press into her.
***
“Levi, breakfast!” My mom’s muffled yell startles me awake.
I roll to my back, sliding my hands up and behind my head, looking at the same ceiling fan.
I’m still so mad at my mom. I honestly don’t know what to even say to her this morning.
The good news is, I won’t be here long. I have a full day with Tate.
I swing my covers off and pull myself from the bed.
A soft tap tap tap sounds against my door.
“Yeah,” I croak out.
“Can I come in?”
I pull the blanket back over my lower half. “Yeah.”
The door opens slowly and just enough for Mom’s body to fit through. I hate talking feelings. I hate arguing with my mom. I press my hands into my sleepy face again.
“Levi, I messed up, didn’t I?” Her voice is velvet in my cobalt-tinted room. I let out a breath, moving my hands down. I look up at her. Her face is pinched and red, and I know she’s been crying.
“Yeah, Mom, that wasn’t great. I wish I would have had some notice. A heads-up.”
She comes and sits down next to me on the bed.
My eyes go to the ring on that finger. “You’re right.
I’m sorry. When your dad left, I didn’t know what to do, how to operate.
In a lot of ways, I still don’t. And I hurt you because of it.
The last person I would ever want to hurt.
” The tears break and so does my wall of anger.
I loop my arm around her frail back and pull her in. “I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s what moms do, Levi. We worry. But I know you’re strong. You don’t need me looking out for you.” Her graying-blonde hair is pushed out of place against my chest, and I find myself smoothing it down.
“When’s the big day?”
She rears back at the question, grabbing her left hand and twisting the ring in place. “I’m not sure there will be one.”
“Why is that? He seems to really care about you.”
“Yeah, he does, but you come first, and I need you to be okay with it. Okay with him.”
I scratch along my jawline. “Why do I need to be okay with him? I’m not marrying him.”
This pulls a watery laugh from her. “I know that, but I’d hoped after the show you would come back. Hang around a bit.”
“Mom, if you like the guy and you think he’s solid...” I find I have to push out the last part of that sentence. “Then you have my blessing. Whatever that’s worth.”
She reaches up, grabs my head, and pulls it to her, laying a kiss on my temple before standing. “Well, enough of that.” She smiles. “Breakfast is ready.”
“Oh, I should have told you. I’m going out to breakfast. And actually, I probably won’t be here much today and tomorrow.”
“Oh? Where are you going?” She stops at the threshold of the door.
“Um, a friend is in town and I thought I’d show her around.”
She studies me for a bit, before saying, “Okay, tell Tate I said hello.” And just like that, she’s gone.
I pick up my phone from the nightstand to check the time. Quarter past seven. Meaning I have to get going if I’m going to be in front of her Airbnb by nine. There are also six unread messages, all from Jan.
Jan: Levi.
Jan: I specifically told you not to do anything stupid and yet there you go...
Jan: Do you know how long this is going to take to clean up?
Jan: Levi!
Jan: I’m going to call Gabriella and see if we can get her out there.
Jan: Also, karaoke? What are you, five?
I punch out a text message that I’m sure I’ll regret.
Levi: Do not call Gabriella. Do not send her out here. I’m done playing your game and if that means I lose then that’s ok because I’m a singer, not an actor.
Send.
I throw on a pair of jeans from my drawer and a Vols button-down jersey. Feels appropriate for showing off the greatest state in the country. I walk to the small mirror at the top of the dresser and finger-comb my hair back a couple times before settling on a hat.
Ping.
I roll my eyes. I’m not dealing with Jan’s antics today. I tuck my phone into my back pocket and head out the door.
The second I step outside, I’m slapped with the chill of winter.
California has obviously coerced me into thinking I could leave without a jacket in the middle of December.
I take a step back in, stopping at the coat closet.
When I open it, I spot my old letterman’s jacket.
I pull it out, admiring the red wool and the white leather sleeves.
High school feels like a lifetime ago. I put it back and start flipping through the rest of the jackets.
I land on a black denim jacket with a shearling lining before braving the cold again.
Despite coming home not that many hours ago, my truck has thick frost over the front windshield.
Once inside, the cold seems to seep right through my jacket and jeans.
I start the car, turn all the knobs to hot and start the defroster.
Dang, it’s cold. Far colder than it was last night, that’s for sure.
I make a cup with my hands and exhale hot air into them before rubbing them together.
Ping.
I pull my phone from my pocket to put Jan on silent, but it’s not Jan. It’s Tate.
Tate: Morning.
Tate: Are we still on?
I type out a quick message before heading her way.
Levi: Hey. Sorry. I ignored it because I thought you were Jan. Yes, on my way now. Bring a jacket.