“I’m gonna marry that girl. She took that beetle right off my balls like it was nothing. I have the weirdest boner right now.” His face is twisted in confusion while he palms his zipper.
It is at that moment I realize Audrey is still inside the tree. “Is she still in there? Shit.”
He waves his other hand at me. “We had a good talk. She’s just getting herself together. She’ll be out in a minute.”
The fact that he says it was a good talk leads me to believe him, because had it gone sideways, his demeanor would have been very different standing outside. My gut instinct tells me to go after her anyway, so I approach the manmade door and poke my head in, hoping she’s not covered in bugs and too terrified to move.
Audrey is crouched down, holding her knees and bouncing, her fingers brushing ants off of her shoes. She hears my footsteps and looks up, her eyes glistening in the limited moonlight. Without a word, she’s on her feet and in my arms, hugging me harder than she’s ever held me before. Her hands pull my face to hers, and she kisses me with so much force, I almost trip but find my footing just in time.
When she pulls away, I can see that she’s been crying, but she’s smiling while she sniffles.
“So it went okay? Did you get to talk to him about everything you wanted to?”
She nods and presses her cheek to my chest, squeezing me once more. “Yeah. I think we’re going to be okay. I think everything’s good again.”
She’s quiet on the way back to the house, staring out the window at the sky, but holding onto my hand as tight as she can. Her fingers don’t tap, and they don’t shake while in my grasp. I lift her fist and kiss her knuckles, watch her mouth pull up into a smile even though she doesn’t turn to acknowledge me in the backseat of that truck.
Inside the Worley house, Cline pulls Audrey into the living room, and they speak quietly for a few minutes. I keep my distance, because it’s not my business, but my friend has a big mouth, so I’ll find out soon enough exactly what’s being said anyway. I have patience. He holds Audrey’s hands between the two of them, and after she nods a few times, he tugs and she falls into him for a hug where she almost disappears inside his embrace.
It’s hard for me to imagine them as kids, but seeing them like this now, it’s obvious how they could have been best friends all those years ago. They just fit together. When he lets her go, her eyes find me and she gives a smile, tilting her head in the direction of the room we’ll be sharing. I follow her silent invitation, and we meet on the stairs so that she can lead and I have a fantastic view of her ass the entire way.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says and starts to pull out some clothes from her bag. I have a sense of deja vu from just a few hours before. “I feel disgusting after being out there. Don’t you?” There’s suggestion in her question and tone. “Plus … we shouldn’t get these sheets all dirty. It would be really rude.” Before I can respond, she’s disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.
I’m stuck in one of those moments where I don’t know if I’m supposed to follow her into the shower, or if I’m supposed to wait for my turn. There’s a chance that I could use the bathroom in the hallway, and we could just shower at the same time. Why the hell are there so many scenarios? Can’t girls just say what they mean? Elliot, come get in the shower with me. So easy. Damnit. Cryptic girl shit.
I’m going to go with the third option of showering at the same time so that I don’t look too eager but also want to be clean, that way if she’s ready to go to sleep, we can do that. Or if she’s up for something else … I’m ready for that, too. My bag is pressed up against the nightstand where her phone is charging and I jostle it, causing her cell to fall to the floor. It buzzes as it becomes unplugged, and I reach over to grab it so I can plug it back in when I notice the green texts and notifications along the face.
25 missed phone calls and quite a few very angry-looking texts in all caps from her step-mother, Miranda. It’s as if Audrey hasn’t even touched her phone—hasn’t opened it—since we left school. I don’t remember hearing it ring once, and she hasn’t made or taken any phone calls as far as I can remember. I’ve spoken with my mom at least twice. Cline has talked with a few friends and had a call from his mom more than once. But Audrey hasn’t used her phone for anything. I wonder if this is the first time she’s even turned it on.
I mull it over in the shower, whether or not I should mention it to her. If that’s an invasion of privacy or not. I have a legitimate excuse for seeing it, but she could read too much into things, as she is known to do, and what’s ending up to be a good day, could instantly turn into a bad one. It’s still in the back of my mind as I finish getting dressed for the night and crack the bedroom door open. As soon as I see her sitting on the bed in a pair of underwear and a tank top, I almost forget my own name.