Page 235 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

Emboldened, I opened my eyes and put the watch on. Its weight was welcome. Comfortable. Comforting, more accurately. Like Alex’s fingers were looped around my wrist. I sucked in a breath, steadying myself.

I called my mom.

She didn’t have Alex’s address, but she said Joe did. I figured if I couldn’t call Alex—like an idiot I’d forgotten to ask for his number—I’d simply go to him.

That was what Ryde was for, wasn’t it?

A man on a mission, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and made my way out of the airport.

I should have known things would not be that easy. It’d been eons since I’d traveled through Columbus alone—and I’d naively thought it’d be a straight shot to Alex’s house to confront him and sweep him off his feet, of course.

Only it wasn’t.

Because about ten minutes into the drive we were stopped by the tail end of a train. The thing was long enough it’d blocked several roads, and the driver assured me we were better off simply waiting for it to pass.

It was annoying…yes.

But I figured it couldn’t possibly delay us for long.

Rain poured down on us, water trickling down the glass and onto the drenched asphalt. Street lights glistened, growing brighter by the minute as the sun sank lower. The sky was a mix of sunset and stormy gray, fat, angry clouds blocking its pastels from view.

Swipe, swipe,went the windshield wipers, a steady beat that would’ve beensoothing if I wasn’t so on edge.

On edge because I was so close.

So fucking close.

Nervous energy buzzed beneath my skin, zipping up my arms and down my legs, settling at my fingers. I plucked at my backpack strap, over and over, matching the beat of the wipers on the window. Alex’s watch was warm.

My phone vibrated, and when I glanced down, it was Brendon again.

Brendon

?

A single question mark.

What an asshole.

I was tempted to ignore him. But then…it occurred to me that maybe taking a different approach would be more…effective. Fuck it. I swiped up for a call. It rang six times before Brendon answered.

That was another game he’d always liked to play. Even when he’d told me to call him, he’d wait till the end to answer—in an attempt to make me feel like I was inconveniencing him.

It didn’t work.

Not anymore.

“Hello?” Brendon sounded pleased with himself. Like this was a battle that he’d won.

I waited to feel something. Anything. Fear—guilt—dread.

But it didn’t come.

No flicker of affection, no iciness,nothing.

“I’m assuming this means you missed me?” Brendon drawled, in the same tone of voice that had used to break me apart and stitch me back together again. Only now, he was…off-putting. Like he was trying too hard. Throwing up a front to appear more powerful than he was.

A small man standing on stilts.

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