“You should move on,” I tell him gently as I shut the locker and turn away. “I already have.”
30
Landon
After Kail’s ice-cold rejection, I spend the rest of the week nursing my wounds and trying everything I can to get her to talk to me. She hasn’t moved back into the pool house yet, and since Theo threatened to chop my balls off if I upset her, catching her alone isn’t as easy as I’d hoped.
At school, if she isn’t with Jared, she’s with Courtney. When I wait for her at her locker, she refuses to acknowledge me. Lunchtime doesn’t fare any better. The first day back, I pulled up an empty chair and sat down with all three of them. Kail got up and left without a word. She’s slammed the door, but I’m determined to pry it back open somehow. I’m just not sure what it’s going to take.
On the second day back, I had an arrangement of Dancing Lady Orchids waiting for her in her locker. When she saw them, it only seemed to make her more withdrawn if that was possible. So I left her a box of chocolate-covered macadamias for the third day, which I knew were her favorite. She barely glanced at them and slammed her locker shut. The fourth day, I left her my Cougars hoodie with my uniform number on the back. That day, she actually sighed, so it was something.
On the fifth day, I decided to go big or go home. I had a huge stuffed pineapple and a balloon waiting for her, which only managed to humiliate her even more. It wasn’t my finest decision, but I was going out of my fucking mind. She’d shut me out completely. Being close enough to touch her but knowing that I couldn’t was like staring down a cupcake after a hunger strike.
I’m starving to death without her. Nothing tastes as sweet. Even the oxygen I breathe feels tainted. I don’t know how to get through to her. And watching her hobble around in that fucking boot makes me murderous. Someone hurt my girl. Someone crushed her ankle with a goddamn baseball bat, and I can’t even comfort her because she refuses to break this crushing silence.
Knowing I deserve her wrath and more doesn’t make it any easier to accept. If I thought it would make her feel any better, I’d tell her to mace my ass. Punch me in the face. Whatever she wanted. But Kailani doesn’t even seem angry anymore. She’s just quiet and sad. Of course, the exception is when she’s with Jared fucking Price. He makes her laugh. Fucking asshole.
When the weekend rolls around, Alana shows up at my door. It’s a little awkward, considering the last time we spoke, I had just broken into her daughter’s bedroom. But she didn’t come to bust my balls. She came to invite me to dinner. I feel like a dick for disappointing her when I decline. As much as I want to go, I can’t sit next to Kail while she ignores me. We need to hash our shit out in private, where we can fight it out and then make up. And by make up, I mean get her naked and worship her until my dick falls off or we die.
A few of the guys from the football team ask if they can party at my place, and I tell them to fuck off. It’s Saturday night, and I’m balls deep into my own investigation, trying to figure out what happened the night of the party. I’ve been asking around to see what people remember. I’ve written down every detail I can recall. I’ve rehashed it with Carson over the phone and gathered a list of every name we can remember. Then I sent them to my attorney and asked him to dig up whatever he could. If any of those assholes sold stories to the media before or after that night, I wanted to know about it.
After I started that ball rolling, I asked around about the incident with Kail at school. I’d already talked to the police myself. After Mr. Dawson agreed to let me come back to school, he set up a meeting so they could interview me. Once I showed them my security footage placing me at home, they sent me on my merry way.
When Monday comes around again, I stuff a few first editions of Kail’s favorite books into her locker.