stands up from the edge of Tango’s bed and meets me at the door. Her arms loop around my neck and she whispers into my ear, “Thank you for being here for me. Things might get a little rough for a bit, and it means a lot knowing I have you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask softly, pulling away to look her in the eyes. “What’s going to get bad? His leg?”
“I—” Cali turns her head, watching Tango and Tyler playing some hand slapping game. “There’s some concern with his blood work. They’ll need to do more testing before I know anything else, but there might be a regrowth in his lungs.” Her eyes are glossy and staring right into mine.
“But it could be nothing,” I say, trying to keep positive.
“Sure,” Cali says, sporting a fake smile.
My heart aches for her. I just want to hug her tightly and tell her everything will be okay, but she’d just push me off and then badger me some more about last night. So all I can do is let her know I’m available if she needs me. “Let me know if you want to talk. I’m here.”
She bites down on her bottom lip, to stop it from trembling, I think. “Thanks. Tell your dad ‘Hi’ for me.”
I nod my head a bit, trying not to open my mouth since I feel tears pooling in the corner of my eyes. Cali may be able to keep a straight face through tough times, but I’m always the one sitting in the movie theater crying my eyes out when a dog dies.
“Bye, guys,” I tell Tango and Tyler, waving overhead as I walk out.
As I’m heading down the long the hall, my phone vibrates in my purse and my stomach immediately cramps with the mere thought that it might be Landon again. I wish he’d leave me alone. Why would he even want to come near me or talk to me after Jags beat him to a pulp? I’m pretty sure they made it very clear he wasn’t to make contact with me again. Maybe someone is paying him to call me. That, I wouldn’t put past the jerk.
I take the phone out nervously, peering down at Jags’s number that I saved in my phone after Tango used him to call me the other day. I click “read”.
Jags: I’m sorry you got put on the spot like that. Wasn’t sure what to say either.
Stop acting so sweet, Jags. You’re messing with my head. How can someone with such a dirty mouth and mind also possibly be the sweetest person I have ever met? It hurts my head to try and figure it out.
Me: Thanks, I’m okay.
I drop my phone back into my purse, telling myself I’m done with the conversation. I need to figure out where my head is before I say anymore to him. It’s just not a good situation.
Stepping out of the hospital, I walk along the sidewalk and over to the parking lot, where I find Jags leaning up against my car. He is not giving up, is he?
I unlock my car with my clicker, trying to ignore his presence. He’s leaning against the back passenger door, and I’m hoping he just leaves when he sees me get into my car. Time to take a hint.
I reach for my door handle, and his hand wraps around my elbow, stopping me from going any further. “Stop, please.”
“Oh, you’re being sweet again? It’s hard to tell when you’re going to start acting like the dirtiest pig in the world versus acting like this charming person I think we both know you’re not. You’re confusing me, and I don’t like it.”
“Maybe I don’t know who I am. Would that be a good explanation?” he asks, tugging me away from the car door.
“No, it’s not a good explanation at all. I think most people in their late twenties know who they are.”
“Does that include people who cover up their pain with a smile? Or people who say anything they’re thinking because it’s better than speaking the truth? I know I’m brash and ‘rough around the edges’ as you put it, but I still have a heart.”
“I didn’t say you were rough around the edges,” I argue.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
I laugh because he has no idea what I’m thinking. “No, you don’t.”
“I like you, Sasha.” There is sincerity in his eyes, and he’s looking right at me with a stabbing emotion. “I know you don’t like