“What’re you doing out here? It’s ninety degrees, Maggie.” West’s voice startled me, and I jerked my gaze up from my book to see him standing on the other side of the table.
He was so tall. Especially when I was sitting down. He had his arms crossed over his wide chest, and his jeans hung low on his hips. The snug-fit T-shirt he was wearing did little to hide all the wonder that was West’s body.
I just stared at him. I wasn’t going to answer. He should know that by now.
“Come inside. We have room at our table,” he said, nodding back toward the door.
I wasn’t going in there to eat with him and Serena. No way. It may be childish, but I wasn’t ready to watch that. I shook my head.
He frowned, and a crease formed between his brows. “Why not?”
I shrugged and dropped my gaze back down to my tray of untouched food.
“Please? If you don’t come in there, I’m coming out here, and I really fucking hate to eat in the heat.”
I lifted my eyes back to meet his, and this time I frowned. Why would he come out here? I was fine. I had a book. No one at that table wanted me there. Especially Brady. I held up my book to show him, and then I put it back down.
He chuckled, and my stomach fluttered. Dang it.
“You want to read in the heat instead of sitting inside with me?”
I nodded.
“That’s a blow to my ego, babe.”
Babe. He’d just called me babe. Of course I’d also heard him call other girls babe. But he’d never called me that. I would not smile like an idiot. Babe wasn’t even a very nice word. I should be insulted.
But I wasn’t insulted at all. Crap.
“Are you worried about Brady? Because he’s fine with our friendship. I’ve even got Serena in there too. He sees that. He knows I’m not moving in on you.”
That got me back to where I needed to be. Thank you, West Ashby, for reminding me where I stood. I really wanted to read my book. I held it up again and gave him a tight smile.
He frowned and let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, read your book.”
I nodded in agreement. That was exactly what I’d planned to do. He shook his head and turned and left me there. Alone again. Just like I’d asked for.
Good.
Well, it was supposed to be good. It was what I wanted.
So why did it feel even lonelier now that he was gone? If he’d just stayed inside and not come out here, I would have been perfectly content. Now I was going to have a hard time concentrating on my book.
I saw West again at my locker before last period. He said he hoped I enjoyed my book. Then he brushed the hair off my shoulder before leaving me.
Aunt Coralee picked me up from school like she usually did, since Brady had football practice for three hours every day. She always had a snack waiting for me when I got home, and she chatted about her day.
I listened while I ate, and when she asked me questions, I answered with a nod. She didn’t expect more and, unlike Jorie, she didn’t seem annoyed when I didn’t reply. My godmother still hadn’t texted me to see how I was. I’d kind of expected her to. It wasn’t that I missed her—being away from her was definitely a relief—but she’d still been a big part of my life growing up. She was like my aunt. Always at family events and holidays.
Once I was done eating, I hugged Aunt Coralee because she liked it when I did that, and then I headed upstairs to my room. Uncle Boone wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. He would get off work and then go to Brady’s practice and watch the last of it. Then they’d talk about it over dinner. Like they did every night.
I knew the routine here, and I felt comfortable with it.
I wondered whether, if I’d come to live here right after my mother’s death, I’d be better by now. If I would trust people more. Maybe I would be different. Maybe I wouldn’t have lost so much of myself. Wouldn’t have lost the girl I’d once been. I didn’t know her at all anymore.
I no longer heard from the friends I used to have. They stopped texting me weeks after everything happened. Mostly because I never responded. My best friend and my boyfriend had gone to prom together that year. I’d seen their photos on Instagram. I hadn’t even cared. None of that had mattered anymore.
And I had thought that nothing would matter again. That I’d lost all those emotions and feelings. But West was showing me that I wasn’t broken. That my heart still worked and I still could care. I just wished it wasn’t all working and caring for him.
I fell back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I needed to get myself level-headed again. West was watching his father die. I knew how painful that was. He needed me to be his friend. He had enough girls wanting him for something more. He didn’t need that from me, too. So pouting and getting upset over him and a girl was wrong. If a girl made him smile, I should be thankful for that.
I was going to be a friend to West. I wouldn’t let my heart keep me from being what he needed.
We Weren’t That Damn Funny
CHAPTER 18
WEST
It was game day. I used to love Fridays during football season. Dad would always wake me up, and we’d eat breakfast together while we talked over the plays and what I needed to do to win.
This morning I’d woken up to a clatter of dishes in the kitchen. I’d jumped up and run down the hall to find Momma standing in the middle of a pile of broken plates. Tears had been streaming down her face as she’d looked up at me. “I was trying”—she’d sniffed—“to make you breakfast. I couldn’t reach the top shelf. Your dad always reached the waffle iron for me. I slipped and pulled the second shelf down with me.” Another sob had shaken her chest.