28. Chase
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHASE
D espite the storm clouds outside, I whistle heading into Patti’s, hoping to catch a few stolen moments with Kayla before the coffee orders start rolling in. Last night, the afternoon, everything the last few days has been beyond what I could have imagined for us when I first laid eyes on her. I wouldn’t change how any of this played out if it all meant she and I ended up here. Prepared to see the girl of my dreams as I stroll into the diner, I hesitate at the sight of Patti.
“Hey there, Chase! Grabbing something for Kayla?” she asks with a smile, wiping up coffee rings from the countertop.
“No… She’s not here?”
“Oh. Nope, she called in sick last night. I figured she would have told you.”
Weeks of seeing Kayla work herself ragged gives me enough basis to know this is unlike her. Kayla doesn’t call into work sick, and she was fine when I dropped her off last night. “Uh, no, I haven’t heard anything…” I check my phone notifications. Empty. “Thanks, Patti,” I say, turning around and heading back to my car.
My mind reels with worry as I battle every intrusive possibility for why she wouldn’t tell me she was sick. Sure, she didn’t answer when I texted her goodnight before bed, but I figured she had already fallen asleep.
Trying to stay calm, I shoot off a quick text:
Me
Hey…everything okay?
Are you home?
I sit and wait for what feels like forever, tapping my fingers against my leg to try and keep the anxiety at bay. Not able to resist, I call Kayla’s phone, and it goes straight to voicemail. My heart drops into my stomach.Fleeting hope surges when my phone immediately vibrates in my hand.
Hunter
Hey man, you with Kayla?
Me
Looking for her now. What’s up?
Hunter
You should probably talk to her…
Me
Why? What happened?
Hunter
Kayla should tell you.
Me
Tell me what?
Hunter
Bruh, just find her.
I toss my phone on the passenger seat, trying to swallow down the frustration-filled lump in my throat. How does Hunter know what’s going on with Kayla before I do, and why won’t he tell me? I slam the car in reverse, angle out of the parking lot, and turn into the neighborhood across from Patti’s Place. If something’s happened, I need to know about it. Check on her. Make sure she’s okay.
I hesitate when I pull up to her house, considering more intrusive possibilities. What if she doesn’t want me here? What if I misread everything about yesterday, and she really doesn’t want to be with me? I slipped into relationship mode too quickly. What if I scared her off and this is her attempt at running? I check my phone again—nothing. Before I can talk myself out of it, I take a breath, open my car door, and walk up the steps of her porch.
After a knock and a brief wait, Ms. Harris opens the door. Deep-set bags above her cheeks bolster the red tinge in her eyes. “Sorry, I know it’s early. Is Kayla here? She’s not answering her phone,” I say, trying to slow down the words as they rush out of me.
Looking down at the weathered doormat, she shakes her head. “No, she packed a bag and left last night.” Tears well in her eyes, and she quickly swipes them away.
“Left? Where’d she go?”
“Maybe Ashlie’s?”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
She shakes her head again. “Kayla should be the one…”
That again. What the hell happened in eight hours that has everyone acting like I’m asking for government secrets . And why am I the last one to know about it?
“Okay…thanks…” I turn to head back to my car when Ms. Harris stops me.
“Chase, when you find her, could you tell her I’m leaving early for my next contract? I’ll be gone by noon today.”
I nod, no inkling of why she can’t tell this to Kayla herself, and climb back into my car. Done with the waiting game that comes along with texting, I call Ashlie. I drum my fingers on my jeans while the phone rings.
“…Hey, Chase,” she answers, hesitating slightly.
“Hey, is Kayla with you?”
“Uh, hold on. ”
This morning might possibly be the most agonizing thing I’ve ever experienced. If I could just find Kayla and figure out what the hell is going on, I could start crafting a plan. The frustration rising in my voice while I try to figure out what’s happening is apparent as I say, “Look, Ashlie, I just want to make sure she’s okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m worried and she’s not answering her phone. Is she with you or not?”
“…Yeah, she’s here.”
Relief floods over me, but the anxiety creeps back in slowly as I contemplate the reason for Kayla’s radio silence. “Can I talk to her?”
“She’s shaking her head no, but I’m going to send you my address anyway. It’s just around the corner from her place.” She hangs up, and after too many seconds, my phone buzzes with the message.
The short drive brings back the long form questions from before. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, I’m positive she doesn’t want to see me either. She’s with her best friend, so she’s clearly okay and just ignoring my messages.
I pull up in front of a two-story house wrapped in graying weathered wood siding, and I wait. If she’s changed her mind and doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to be with me for whatever reason, I can try going back to being just friends. I’m head over heels for her, but if that’s what she wants, I’ll do it just to keep her in my life. Several more minutes pass before I convince myself that I just want to make sure she’s okay. I’ll check on her, and then I’ll leave if she wants me to.
I head toward the door, and Ashlie opens it before I reach the porch.
“She’s in my room.” She leads me up the flight of stairs in front of us, my heart thumping with the anticipation of what I’m about to walk into.
“Ashlie, what’s happen—” The bedroom door is open, and there’s Kayla, sitting up in the bed with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes meet mine, and just as fast, she buries her face in her hands. Fierce sobs break through the space between her fingers. Seeing her like this and not knowing what’s wrong, not knowing how to help, not knowing if she even wants me here is pure torture.
I stand in the doorway, unsure of what my next steps should be. Ashlie nudges me from behind, prompting me to sit next to Kayla on the bed. When I do, her body stiffens beside me, and I look toward Ashlie for a little direction. Nodding, Ashlie motions for me to put my arm around Kayla. When I reach around her shoulder, the rigid stiffness that terrified me seconds ago melts into my touch. She curls into me, making it easier for me to scoop her into both of my arms. I swing her legs across my lap and rub circles on her back, comforting whatever tragedy is brewing inside her world.
“Do you want me to leave?” I whisper the words, hoping with everything I have that she says no.
Shaking her head, she nuzzles into my neck, and I breathe a sigh of relief with the first glimmer of assurance that this isn’t about me. Something is terribly wrong, and seeing her this way breaks my heart. But she wouldn’t be clinging to me right now if she didn’t want me here.
“Okay. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but can I talk?”
A nod against my chest prompts me to continue.
“Your mom wanted me to tell you she’s leaving for her next contract at noon today. Do you want me to take you home so you can see her?”
She shakes her head as another sob threatens to rip through her body.
I give her some time to let the fresh current of tears slow before asking, “Do you want me to take you after she leaves?”
A sniffle and a nod, paired with calmer breathing, lets me know that this wave is passing.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Water,” she whispers .
“You got it.”
I kiss her forehead and carefully shift her body back onto the bed. When I get downstairs, I find Ashlie in the kitchen, back against the counter, rubbing her face.
“Kayla wants some water…” I say.
Quietly, she walks to the fridge and hands me a cold bottle before reclaiming her spot against the counter. “I’ve never seen her like this, Chase. I don’t know what’s going on, but she hasn’t slept at all. She showed up last night with a bag and has been inconsolable ever since.”
Looking at her without the lens of panic, I notice the dark bags under her eyes, proof of a night of no sleep for her either.
“She wants me to take her home after her mom leaves at noon.”
“Her mom already left. She texted me a few minutes ago saying she couldn’t get a hold of Kayla and asked me to pass it on.”
“I’ll get her home so you can get some sleep, then.”
When I get back to the room, Kayla’s exactly where I left her. I crack open the bottle of water and hand it over, watching her sip, then gulp. “Your mom’s already gone. Do you want to go home now?”
She nods, and I stoop to grab her bag before offering her my hand. Landing on the main floor, Ashlie stops us to give Kayla a hug. “I’m sorry,” Kayla whispers, sniffling.
“Girl, don’t you dare apologize. Text me after you get some sleep.”
Kayla dips her chin and stares down at the floor as I guide her to the door with my hand on her back.
The drive back to Kayla’s house is a stark contrast from our drive yesterday. Dark clouds roil in the sky, masking the sun. While I’m still holding her hand, the energy is sadness instead of excitement. The hitched breathing comes from prolonged tears instead of kissing. Songs from the radio are replaced with post-crying hiccups .
At the door, she sticks the key into the lock and goes rigid, hands trembling. “I got you,” I say with a squeeze on her arm, unlocking the door and pushing it open. The curtains are drawn, making the house dark to match the dreary mood of the morning. Propelling her forward enough for me to close the door, I reach for the switch on the wall and flip it on. Warm yellow light illuminates the entryway.
“Can you stay?” She looks up at me, eyes bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep. One arm hangs loosely at her side while the other is slung across her body, hugging her elbow.
“Of course. If you want me here, I’ll stay…”
The crease forming between her eyes as she registers my words tells me how unwarranted my fears were this morning. “Why wouldn’t I want you here, Chase?”
“I…don’t know.” I rub the back of my head, trying to unscramble my thoughts.“I couldn’t get a hold of you, and no one would tell me what was going on. And then you didn’t want to talk to me when I called Ashlie, and I just…don’t know what you want.” It comes out rushed and messy, as I lay my anxiety at her feet.
I watch as the crease of confusion fades from her face into a look of contrition. Tucking her chin, her shoulders slump as she takes a deep breath. She scrubs a hand over her face and, without saying another word, reaches for me and leads me down the hallway to her room. Placing her hands on both of my arms, Kayla nudges me to sit on the light blue bedspread. She kicks off her shoes and climbs in next to me, turning her back to lean against the headboard. I mirror her, kicking off mine and turning to face her across the bed. We sit, knees touching, not saying anything.
Placing my hands in hers, she takes a deep breath and looks into my eyes. “I’m not used to relying on people,” she starts with a shaky voice, eyes never leaving mine. “I do things on my own, figure things out on my own so no one needs to worry about me. Even with Ash, I don’t always lean on her like a best friend should. I’m the one with solutions—cool, calm, collected—not the one who falls apart, and I didn’t—” Her breath hitches as tears stream down her face. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” She waves her hands over her body, briefly dropping mine before grabbing them again.
“You can’t just disappear. If this is going to work?—”
“I know.”
“The running is…” I pause, looking down at our hands as I feel the surge of emotions I’ve been pushing away all morning. I want this to work out with her so badly, but I don’t think I can deal with another morning in the dark like this. I can’t be the only one willing to communicate. She squeezes my hands reassuringly, waiting for me to finish. “The running is tearing me up inside, Kayla. I can’t handle it if you’re going to keep pulling away. I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours. Even if you just want some space. I need to know.”
“Okay.” She sits up on her knees, dropping my hands to cradle my face. “I’m sorry I made you worry—made you question this.” She brushes my lips with the lightest touch of her own. “I want you to stay, Chase. You’re my blue pebble, and I want you to stay.”
I lean forward, kissing her more fully while the smile grows on my lips. “Look who’s being cheesy now…”
As the tiniest smile appears, the tired lines on her face remind me she hasn’t slept. I move across the bed to lie down on her pillow, pulling her along with me. She snuggles into my chest, arm draping across me, and with hardly any time passing, I can hear the deep breathing of sleep take over.
We lie like that, entwined together for hours. Her asleep, and me drifting in and out. Catching me mid-doze, I feel her shift at my side. I glance down at her face to see her eyes wide-open, staring at a spot on the wall. I rub gentle circles on her back to let her know I’m with her.
“Kendall’s my father,” she whispers, holding on a little tighter to me. I take a beat, trying to make sense of what she’s just said. “ That’s what happened last night. I opened the front door to find my mom and Kendall.”
“Kendall Jackson? Like, Hunter’s dad?”
She nods against me, drawing shaky breaths. The floodgates open again, and she tells me everything that happened after I dropped her off last night. How they sat her down at the table, her mom explaining how they met in Fort Bender twenty-two summers ago. Her mom found out she was pregnant but didn’t look for Kendall, despite knowing how to contact him. Karla panicked and left when they bumped into him at the store the first time, but Kendall hadn’t seen her face then. He recognized her immediately when he saw her yesterday morning.
“She lied to me. My entire childhood, she told me she didn’t know who or where my father was, but she did. She saw an article about EdTechU when I was little and recognized him then. She lied about it a month ago when we first bumped into him at the store, and she lied again yesterday. I felt ambushed at that dining room table and just needed space…so I left and turned off my phone.” Kayla sits up on her knees suddenly, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I’m so angry at her. This whole time I could have had a dad, siblings to bond with. I wouldn’t have grown up feeling so alone.”
I listen and I wait, partly from not knowing the right words to say, but also because as she tells her story, she sits a little taller. Her voice grows a little stronger with each word, and the tears flow a little less. This is helping her feel better, and I’ll listen and wait forever if it’s what she needs to feel better.