Chapter 11
It feels like I’m surrounded by people, even though I’m the only one in the kitchen. Some drunk asshole left the fridge door open, spilling a bright light across the room.
I’ve shoved myself up onto the counter, pressed against the cabinets, with my arms wrapped around my knees. My forehead rests against them, and I rock slightly, trying to hold in my emotions before I break down completely.
My chest is tight, every heartbeat like a punch, and my gums hurt from how hard I’ve been chewing on the inside of my mouth.
I don’t even look up when someone approaches, probably another idiot looking for a beer. I don’t want to be acknowledged. I don’t want to talk. I want to disappear.
Then a hand touches my knee.
I snap my head up. “Hands off, asshole—” The fight dies instantly, a relief unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, replacing it.
His hair’s a mess, his shirt half-tucked, and there’s this look on his face. Worry, anger, and something else that twists my heart all over again. I can’t even look at him, or I’ll fucking lose it.
“Pat.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, taking my face in his hand and turning it to face him. “Hey. What happened?” A sob bursts out before I can stop it, ugly and broken.
He doesn’t hesitate to pull me into his chest. His arms are surprisingly strong and comforting, and it makes everything I’ve been holding in this summer start to come loose.
“She kissed him,” I choke out. “She kissed him and she smiled!”
He doesn’t ask who. He doesn’t ask what the hell I’m talking about, even though I sound insane.
He exhales slowly through his nose, his hand smoothing over the back of my hair.
“She’s a goddamn idiot.”
When we reach Pat’s old RV, the world around me has become meaningless sound. The crunch of gravel, the slam of the door, the sound of his voice, annoyingly gentle.
Inside, there’s a small amount of comfort, where the air smells faintly of weed, motor oil, and him.
I stand in the middle of the room, staring at the mess. Clothes, an ashtray, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and a bra tossed over the back of the couch that is certainly not Pat’s. “Did you have company?”
He runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair, not meeting my eyes. “Yeah,” he admits, snatching the bra off the chair and tucking it into a drawer. “But that’s alright. You’re more important.”
I nod, even though I don’t know what to do with that, I never do. I step toward the full-sized bed tucked against the wall, but stop halfway, staring down at the mess of sheets. “Did you just fuck somebody in this bed?”
He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh. Yeah. Sorry. Didn’t have time to change ‘em, hang on.”
I don’t even care. I’m tired. My whole body feels hollowed out. He grabs a blanket from the couch, shakes it, and lays it over the sheets. “There. Clean layer.”
I climb on top and curl up, knees tucked to my chest again, not even bothering to take off my muddy shoes. Pat sits on the edge, watching me with something sad in his eyes. Then he lies down behind me. His arm slips around my waist, warm and steady, and I press back against him.
When I start to cry, it’s quiet at first. I don’t want him to hear, but it’s inevitable. The sobs come in waves, each one shaking through me harder than the last. He doesn’t tell me it’s okay or that she isn’t worth it or that I did this to myself.
He holds me.
And I don’t even know what I’m crying for anymore. Her, me, all the years I spent thinking she was the one person who would never hurt me.
Pat’s breath moves against the back of my neck when he finally speaks. “Tell me what happened, Lil.”
I turn in his arms until we’re face-to-face, legs tangled, breath mixing in the narrow space between us. His hand slides into my hair, thumb brushing the side of my neck, and fingers tangling in my ginger waves.
“She—” I swallow hard, trying again. “We—”
The sentence crumbles before I can build it, but I force it out anyway. “Diana,” I whisper. “She fucked me. And I thought—” My throat burns. “I thought she meant it. I thought that, maybe after all this time, she actually wanted me.”
The tears fall harder, shaking my whole body. “And then she kissed him like I meant nothing. I gave her everything and she just—” The rest of my sentence shatters into a heartbroken sob.
“She threw me away.”
He exhales hard, and I can see that he wants to get mad, probably say something about Diana, but his hands stay gentle, holding me steady.
“Hey,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Hey, look at me.”
I can’t, not really, but I feel his forehead press to mine, his breath warm. “You gave her a gift.” He pauses, brushing my jaw with his thumb. “She was the luckiest rich girl ever to exist to get to make love to you. There ain’t no way she doesn’t know that.”
The way he says it, so soft, it’s the kind of thing that doesn’t sound right coming from Pat, with his torn-up clothes and a joint always tucked behind his ear.
I let out a wet, broken laugh, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand. “Jesus, Pat. Don’t tell me you believe in all that bullshit.”
He smiles, but there’s something sad in his eyes I never want to look at too closely. “Ain’t bullshit. Just the truth.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, that it wasn’t like that, but it was my first time, in all the ways that mattered. What happened felt bigger than that day at the lake. It felt like something real, something that changed me, and now it’s gone.
The only thing in its place is love and vulnerability that has no place to go. I hide my face against his chest, and his hand moves up and down my back, slow and steady, and that’s all I can do right now.
After a long time, the tears stop falling and my breathing evens out. His hand keeps tracing circles on my back, like he’s afraid I’ll start again if he stops.
It hits me then.
Pat’s the one who’s been here for me through it all. Every stupid time I fell apart over Diana, he was the one who picked me up. The one who never walked away.
All my life I thought I needed someone who kept breaking me, when the person who’s always been there is right here. My actual best friend.
My person.
And after everything that Diana’s put me through, the way she’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t care, I can’t ignore the way he looks at me anymore.
I pull back enough to see his face in the dim light. “Am I your Diana?”
He blinks, caught off guard, but shakes his head and has a tone that says he thinks I’m being stupid already. “No, you’re my Lily.”
I swat his chest, not hard, but enough to make him focus. “I’m serious.”
He lets out a breath halfway between a laugh and a sigh. His eyes soften, that tired smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
He studies me for a long moment, like he’s trying to decide if I actually want to know the answer, then shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
“Maybe at some point you could have been. Before you told me you like girls. Now, I love you, there ain’t no denying that. But you don’t gotta feel bad for not wanting me. I know you can’t help it.”
The words sit heavy between us. The weight of them. I stare at him, the lump in my throat rising all over again for a completely different reason. “Pat…”
He shakes his head, brushing a piece of hair from my cheek. “Don’t worry about it, Lil. I’m all good. You’re my best friend. That’s enough for me.”
“You mean that?”
“Course I do. You think I’d trade this for anything?” He gestures between us, the close, quiet space, the safety. “Besides,” he says, a real grin creeping onto his face, “I ain’t exactly struggling with the ladies.”
I raise an eyebrow, my lips quirking up to match his despite my mood. “Oh yeah?”
“You know who was here right before you called?”
“Who?”
“Stacy Carpenter.” My eyes widen.
“Stacy Carpenter?” I repeat, the events of the night almost forgotten entirely at that news.
He smirks. “The very one.”
I blink at him. Then I laugh, loud and incredulous. “You’re telling me super hot, 2 years older than us, Stacy Carpenter was in this shitty RV with you?” He shrugs, pretending like it’s not a big deal when we both know damn well…
“What can I say? I got charm.”
I snort. “Shit, if she’d go for you, maybe I got a chance.”
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
I grin back at him. “Nothing. Just saying, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
And that’s right about the time I remember Diana. The way she touched me, the way she…
His hand finds mine where it’s resting between us, giving a gentle squeeze. “Hey,” he murmurs. “You’re the best, Lil. If she doesn’t see that, there’s something wrong with her.”
I squeeze back, letting the warmth of his hand ground me through the ache. My heart hurts, and tears still fall from my eyes, but I know I’ll be okay.
Pat will make sure of it.