My head whipped around. “What?”
He was smiling, but it was a lie. “Yeah. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. I thought you two were … close, or whatever.”
I didn’t respond, just waited on him.
“I’m just looking out for you, Cam. Tyler … he’s not like you. Sure, he hangs out in the bookstore, since there’s booze there, but that’s not his thing. He doesn’t like comics and the stuff you’re into. Look at him.”
He nodded toward the dance floor where Tyler stood among the beautiful people, football players and models, sportscasters. He looked in his element. He looked like he belonged.
“This is where he belongs,” Kyle said, as if he were reading my mind, his blue eyes ice-cold. “I’m not saying he’s not into you. I’m just trying to explain that at the end of the day, you’re not the kind of girl for him, and he’s not the kind of guy for you.”
“And what exactly is my type?”
We took a step closer to the bar. “I don’t know, Cam. But Tyler’s a hero. He wants to save the girl and be the good guy. You’re a project for him. Someone to rescue from loneliness, just like you fix up people in relationships. I heard about his date with Adrienne Christie. See, that makes sense. But look around you, Cam. I saw Jess come talk to you guys. That’s Tyler. Girls like her. You’re cute and all, don’t get me wrong. But it’s only a matter of time before Tyler breaks down and finds his way back to himself. I’ve known him for years, been with him through everything, all of it. And this isn’t him.”
“Maybe he’s changed.” I was trying to convince myself just as much as Kyle.
He chuckled and stepped up to the bar. “Maybe. But I doubt it.”
The bartender took his order as well as mine, and Kyle tipped as I stood there beside him, feeling like a fool for being there, a fool for listening to him, just a fool in a costume, pretending just as much as if I were dressed up as Rogue or Phoenix.
Kyle handed the drinks to me and gave me a look full of pity and maybe a little contempt. “Just think about it, Cam. You don’t want to get hurt.” He took a sip of his drink. “Good luck with him, and everything. And try to watch your step, all right?”
He smirked, and I squeezed the glasses, stopping myself from throwing one in his face. No whiskey deserved to be wasted on Kyle.
I walked away, heart banging, beelining for Tyler, ready to tell him everything. I was so angry at Kyle, stupid Kyle being a stupid, meddling jackass. A flush bloomed hot on my cheeks, realizing I’d been no better at times.
But then his words crept into my mind, and my anger twisted into shame and doubt. As much as I hated Kyle, he wasn’t wrong. I’d seen the girls Tyler dated, even met one tonight. Part of me wondered how he’d ever been with them — they were so different — and the other, louder part thought it was simple, that they were in a bracket of society that I didn’t belong to. My thoughts tripped and skipped, my eyes searching the crowd, lighting on woman after woman. So many of them were beautiful, movie star smiles and long, luscious hair. Long legs and designer dresses. And when you held me up to any of them, I fell short in more than just my height.
I was reminded of homecoming all those years ago, when my friends dragged me to the dance and I saw Will and Kenzie crowned. I felt just as alien and separate now as I did then, watching the boy I thought I loved, who I’d given myself to, the boy who threw me away the moment I did.
I shouldn’t have trusted Will. And as much as I wanted to trust Tyler, I realized that deep down, I doubted him still. He didn’t tell me about the fight with Kyle, maybe because part of him knew Kyle was right.
Maybe tonight was just an illusion, something I’d made up, reading too much into his actions, his words. Maybe he wasn’t that into me at all, and I’d imagined the whole thing, just like I had with Will. Because even now, I didn’t know if Will ever really felt anything, or if it was just the misunderstanding of a girl too young to know better.
When I found Tyler, I was close to coming unhinged, my heart pounding, thoughts galloping away like wild horses. He knew immediately that something was wrong and pulled me aside.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, cupping my cheek, searching my face.
I tried to smile and shook my head. “Nothing,” I said, leaning into his palm, wondering what in the world to do.
BEGGING FOR THREAD
Tyler
COLD DREAD RAN THROUGH ME the minute I saw her walking back to me. But she smiled at me, told me she was fine, and even though I knew it was a lie, I felt powerless. I couldn’t force her to talk to me, to be honest with me, to trust me. Didn’t matter how much I wanted her to come around. It wasn’t up to me.
Something had happened, but she wouldn’t tell me what. It was plain to see … she’d gone from open, happy, mine, to disappearing into her thoughts, her mood shifting inward for the rest of the night. Sure, she still participated, still smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. She talked, laughed, but none of it came from her heart.
The cab ride home was long and quiet, putting aside what I wanted to give her the space she wanted. Because what I wanted was to machine-gun her with questions, to make her talk to me so I could fix it. Even the physical space between us in the taxi as she leaned on her door, looking out the window, was vast.
It was only a few feet, but she was miles away.
My anxiety ratcheted with every second, every word left unspoken hanging between us. You know, you can feel a breakup before it happens, as if the other person’s thoughts project into every molecule, and when you breathe them in, you can read their mind.