Zoe. “You were right, Zo. I need to give him one encouraging call. Only one! And not just for him, but for me, too. I need to know that I tried. And if he’s gone, if it’s over, I won’t have to wonder anymore. It’s the wondering that’s a killer.”
Our sweet cousin reaches around to clasp my arm with encouragement. “It’s better to know.”
Sam’s fingers are tense on the armrest even as she controls her voice to appear calm. “You waited nearly a week. That’s plenty of time. Now it’s good to know where you stand.”
I mutter, “It’s kinda obvious where I stand,” and almost dial, but stop, crashing the phone to my chest. “Oh God! I’m scared!”
Zoe whispers, “I would be, too.”
“Yeah, that’s not helping.”
She adjusts to be closer. “But you’re braver than I am, Lexi.”
Sammy grabs onto the dashboard like we’re flying down a hill. “You can do this Lex!”
I lock eyes with each of them, take a deep breath. “Thanks guys. Here we go.” The screen locked under its own apparent impatience, so I unlock it again, and stare at his nickname.
Crocodiles.
Ribs feel too tight.
My heart is gonna break ‘em.
Throat is closing.
The phone smashes into my cleavage. “I can’t.”
Sam and Zoe frown, and as I look for them to tell me Fuck it, let’s get out of here, instead I see it in their eyes, my fall from the pedestal.
Strength, rebellion, courage, and yes, even stupidity. That’s me. Sometimes to risk everything for something greater than you have, people might call you dumb. Or crazy.
I’ve been all of these things.
And more.
But what’s important?
They need me to be them.
“Fuck it.” I dial.
Sam and Zoe shout, “Yay!!!”
Adrenaline blurs my vision, and I flat-line for a second as I hear him say, “Hello?”
Swallowing hard, I somehow manage not to sound strangled. “Hi. Just wanted you to know I’m at The Local with my girls. We uh…I’d love to see you here.”
Silence.
Can’t hear any breathing.
Nobody is breathing.
I glance to a frozen Sam, a stricken Zoe, then close my eyes, adrenaline painful in my veins.
His voice goes deeper, hesitant. “We’re doing this?”
I’m not sure what ’this’ is, so at first I say nothing. “Um…yeah. I guess we are.”
“Okay. Fine.”
“Fine”
“See ya soon.”
With a thudding pulse I hear him hang up.
Oh fuck.
Chapter Thirty-Three
LEXI
Ralphie grins, “Aren’t I a lucky guy?” as House Three mounts empty barstools dead center. “Dart board is open.”
Because my tongue’s not working, Sam stiffly smiles, “We just need a second.”
He throws out his arms. “Not that I wanna encourage you all leavin’ me!”
Leaving me.
Leaving me.
Leaving me.
Zoe picks up the charm we dropped. “Rather spend time with you, Ralphie! We see enough of each other.”
He laughs, “With how close you girls are, I doubt that last part. The first part I’ll take! What’ll you have? A pitcher?”
They look at my shrug and Sammy answers, “Sounds good. You pick.”
Leaning into my math aptitude for comfort since my emotional ineptitude is currently even more challenged than usual, I mutter, “It’s just smarter financially.”
The girls look at me.
His experienced fingers touch the more colorful logo’d draft-handles one after the other as he ponders, “My choice, eh? Hmm.”
I glance past the bathrooms at the bar’s back entrance, expecting it to swing open on a thunder clap, storm clouds rushing in around Gage’s entrance.
He’s not here yet, of course since we just got off the phone. But I’m staring at it anyway — a dark hallway empty of everything except a deep sense of foreboding.
The heavy thud of a chilled and frothing pitcher turns my head. “What’d you choose?”
Zoe and Sam say in unison as they watch my reaction, “Transmigration of Souls.”
The same beer we had when Gage and I met. “Great,” I mutter, chewing my bottom lip on a head-shake.
Ralphie frowns, “Don’t like this one anymore, Lex?”
“She does!” the girls tell him.
“I do, Ralphie. It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You okay?”
“Can I get back to you on that?”
Sam touches my icy spine, and Zoe lays her tender head on my cramped shoulder. Poor Ralphie’s concern turns from the business of making his regulars happy to the personal worry that his friend is in deep shit, the likes of which he’s unaware of and doesn’t feel it’s appropriate to ask about. “You just let me know if you wanna order some food. Or hard liquor.”
My girls nod.
As he walks away, I explode, “Can we have french fries?!”
He reacts like an alien invaded me. “Sure. Yeah, Lex. French fries.”
Under my breath I gasp, “Oh God,” and leap from the barstool,