Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Kell
Kell sat on the side of his bed, elbows on his knees, holding his phone.
Dumping someone by text felt awful.
Alissa wouldn’t take his calls. Wouldn’t answer his texts. He even resorted to email. He’d done everything he could to resolve this honorably. Her message was clear.
Time for him to send his.
Alissa - you’re not answering my calls, texts, or emails. You’ve been distant for the last month, and I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore. I’ll make this easy for you: I’m done. I’m moving on. I hope you get what you’re looking for in life, with whoever you find after me.
The words were surreal–the whole situation was surreal. Did she target him from the start? Decide to sleep with him because of what she thought he could do for her?
And what Ted said – she could have just called his office and directly set up a meeting. Why all the extra?
No one went into a relationship assuming it was doomed from the start.
In their first few months working together, he’d liked her, sure. But over time, her drive became something to admire. It was hot, alluring, a fire in her belly that turned him on. The first time he’d asked her out, she hadn’t been surprised.
Her exact words were, “Took you long enough.”
That confidence had been sexy. Intriguing. Alissa was nothing like the women he’d dated in high school and college, most of them nervous, though sweet. She was bold and unafraid, and she wanted to take the environmental policy world by storm.
And now, he realized with an awful clarity, Kell Luview had been the perfect storm, handed to her when he turned up at EEC eleven months ago. A guy who could hook her up with his relative in Maine government, while Alissa hooked up with Kell.
He’d been used, and he was too clueless to realize it.
Her “maple redneck” jokes stung a bit more now.
Pride was a funny thing. Too much and you were arrogant, too little and you were a doormat. Living somewhere in the middle was more his vibe.
A plume of fury filled his body at the thought of how Alissa was treating him, but worse, how he’d let her. Shaking the feeling he’d been played was not going to be easy.
And when she came back from her “job interviews” or whatever she was up to, he’d have to face her.
No. She would have to face him. Kell had done nothing wrong.
His text was sitting in the typing window, taunting him.
Come on, man. Hit Send. Too chicken to do it?
That voice inside his head was a jerk.
He hit Send and closed his eyes. Until his phone buzzed, five seconds later.
Damn.
It was Alissa.
We need to talk, was all she wrote, as if she hadn’t disappeared on him, as if ghosting on your boyfriend for nearly a week was normal.
And then:
I still want you in my life.
That was vague–what did it mean? It wasn’t an expression of caring.
They hadn’t exchanged I love you’s. He was twenty-three, she was twenty-four, and he’d needed time to grow into that emotion. They liked and enjoyed each other. But all of that faded slowly, with Alissa pulling away the minute–almost down to the second–he’d secured that meeting for her.
Kell tried to loosen his tight jaw, moving it from side to side.
He’d been trying to reach her for a week. If she wanted to talk, she’d had plenty of time. Between this, Rachel’s warning about Alissa’s lies, and his uncle’s confirmation of her scheming, he was done.
More than done.
The door buzzer startled him and he jumped, then laughed. Being spooked by something he was actually expecting was a sign that he was way, way out of his element with this Alissa mess, and he needed some time to reckon with it all.
Needed to get his head out of Alissa’s game.
A few hours of binge-watching with Rachel would help, The Valhalla Stalker or maybe his new find, The Iceberg Killer.
He buzzed her in and looked around the apartment, which was decent, cleaner than the last time she was here, when she’d come to warn him about Alissa.
For a second, his mind flashed back to the moment he’d carried her, half naked, in his arms, the press of her body against his.
All the Luview men had a strong protective streak in them, one that made them loyal and responsible.
Sometimes to a fault. Were the values Mom and Dad had instilled in him something that just didn’t work outside of his hometown? Maybe he was too loyal. Too responsible.
“Stop it, Kell,” he muttered to himself. “You can’t figure this out now. Eat junk food and read subtitles.”
Rachel’s knock was a relief, something he could do instead of just think about, and he leaped for the door. When he opened it, she was there in black leggings, an oversized Stanford hoodie, and carrying a reusable grocery bag filled with what looked like his favorite food.
The kind you don’t have to cook.
“What’s this?” he asked as she transferred the bag into his arms.
“The four major food groups. Beer, chips, guacamole, and cupcakes.”
“Sometimes I think you’re my missing twin.”
She beamed at him.
“This is amazing, but you didn’t have to. I have food,” he said, looking at his pathetically inadequate bowl of potato chips, a few spiked seltzers in the fridge. “You don’t normally bring this.”
“It’s a peace offering.”
“Rachel. You don’t have to do that. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you saved me.”
“Saved you?”
“I broke up with Alissa.”
“Officially?”
“Yes.”
“How’d she take it? That must have been a painful phone call.”
A streak of shame shot through him. “I did it by text.”
One judgmental eyebrow lifted. “By text?”
“I know, I know. She didn’t give me any choice.”
“She ignored your calls? Texts? Emails?”
“Right up until I broke up with her. Then she responded immediately.”
“What did she say?”
He pulled out his phone and read it.
“‘We need to talk,’ and then ‘I still want you in my life.’”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Rachel’s mouth opened, eyebrows high, jaw low.
“That’s so…”
“Yup.”
“...cruel!”
For a brief moment, he was afraid she meant him.
“She ignores you and uses you and then when you try to break up with her, that’s it? That’s all you get? You deserve so much better, Kell. So, so much better.”
He looked at her, feeling a vague sense of hope. “Thank you.”
“I mean it! What a witch!”
His stomach growled. “You said there’s guac in there?”
In response, Rachel emptied the bag on the counter. She grabbed the bowl of potato chips he’d put out, the lime tortilla chips she’d brought, the container of guac, and pointed to the beer.
“You bring two of those.”
“Unless you want spiked seltzer? It’s in the fridge.”
“Beer’s good. I’ve got the food. Healthy stuff first, cupcakes for dessert.”
“Are you sure you’re not half frat boy?”
“Positive. I’m way too clean, and I have better taste in beer.”
He looked at what she’d brought. She was right.
By the time he had the beers out of the cardboard sixpack, she was curled up on his couch, already munching. He set her beer down in front of her, took his own spot on the couch, and loaded a chip before he started ranting.
But Rachel did it for him.
“You know, when we were roommates, Alissa was always the one who did the least. Four of us shared a two-bedroom apartment, and whenever it was her turn to do anything, she was magically ‘busy’ with a big project at work. Couldn’t grocery shop, couldn’t clean the bathroom–like that.
” Rachel made a face, then took a swig from her bottle.
“Like the world was there to serve her.”
“Yes! It’s part of the reason I moved out.”
“Really?”
“A small part. My new place is cheaper, and subletting made sense. My new roommates are into ed policy, and the lease is up at the end of May, so it’s perfect.”
He looked around the room. Their landlord had offered them a deal if they paid the rent in full for the semester. Kell had some money he’d saved from working for his dad over the years, and he managed to scrape together what he needed and shave ten percent off his share.
“Deepak’s cool. He’s gone a lot. When he’s here, we play Smash and hang a little.”
“How do you divide the cleaning?”
A streak of guilt shot through him. “Um, we wait until someone is coming over and then we do it all.”
“Can’t have people know what slobs you guys really are?”
“Basically.”
“Then why did you just tell me?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. You’re easy to talk to.”
“I am?”
“You’re a good friend.”
“That’s right,” she said, her voice changing slightly, though Kell couldn’t quite put a finger on it. “Friend Rachel.”
They each took a swallow, then as Kell reached for a chip, the sound of a FaceTime call started.
“Must be from home.” He dropped the chip and picked up his phone.
“Or it could be Alissa.”
“She never FaceTimes.”
“Never say never. She wants you in her life, right?”
“What does that even mean?” he groaned. He looked at the phone, expecting it to be his mother.
He was wrong. It was his brother Luke.
“Hey, bro. What’s up?” A giant baby head filled the screen, drool coming off his little niece’s lips.
“Oh, man,” rasped his brother, on the other side of the call. “Harriet is kissing the phone again, Amber. You have a napkin?”
“Here.” Now all he saw was his sister-in-law’s disembodied hand. “I hope you cleaned your phone before you let her hold it.”
Luke’s face came on the screen. He winked at Kell. “Of course I did.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Kell said with a chuckle.
“Shhhh. A few germs will help her immune system.”
“She’s not even one, Luke.”
“We have a puppy. If Amber’s worried about phone germs, she’s fighting the wrong battle. The dog’s a bigger source.”
“How is Jester?”
“Fine. Protecting us from every plane that flies over. All that barking keeps us safe. He also protects us every time the fridge fan turns on, or we use the microwave, or Harriet plays with a toy with sounds.”
“Good dog.”
“Here’s some advice, little bro: Don’t get a puppy when you have a baby. It’s like having twins.”
“I’ll take that under consideration when I’m thirty-five and maaaaaayyybe thinking about a family.”