Page 20 of Stand By Me

He winced. Those few times they had fought about something other than the security concerns, it had always come down to slammed doors, sulking in their respective corners for a while, and then making up a couple hours later.

It had been almost a week now.

"It's different."

"Of course it is." She leaned closer. "Nothing is forcing you to make up now, for one. You can take your time and think things through."

Clay was about to protest that nothing had ever forced them to make up, but then he realized his mom was right. Back in Switzerland, they'd been alone and protecting Jake had been Clay's priority. Now, they both had their separate lives, and things were much more complicated.

"It's no longer your job, after all, is it?"

It still hurt every time the memory resurfaced, uninvited. Which was stupid—Clay knew Jake had lashed out and didn't really mean that, heknewthat—and yet it lingered, like a slowly-healing bruise.

"It's okay to need time." Mom brushed his hair from his forehead. "I'm sure you'll work this out. You mean too much to each other not to."

He stared at this empty plate. "We tried to make it—"healthier"—better and ended up making things worse."

"Like I said, you can take your time." She got up and dropped a kiss on the top of his head, making him feel seven instead of thirty-seven. "Until you figure it out."

Hopefully, it wouldn't take too long. He missed his best friend.

He took his phone out on the way home later in the evening and opened his text chain with Jake. He had no idea what to follow up their fight with, and yet there was a bunch of Jake's apologies that had flooded in that first night and continued, at least once a day, ever since. The one from today had come an hour ago.

Please, let's talk.

Clay stared at it for a long couple of seconds.

We will, he wrote, and deleted, and then wrote again.I just need some time.

He hit send and saw that Jake read it immediately, but when the dots of a reply in progress appeared, he put the phone away.

He should've texted Mario instead, to start a conversation. Push things along.

Then again, he wasn't at his best after that dinner, so it was probably better shelved for another day.

Soon, though, he promised himself.Definitely soon.

CHAPTER EIGHT

On Monday evening, Mario decided that Clay wasn't going to text him. That was it. Game over.

He'd tried, he'd failed, he needed to move on.

"He may still do it," Andie said, watching him drown another shot, but she didn't sound very convinced to Mario's ears.

To be fair, he barely heard anything over the shouts and singing coming from the next booth, but still. She couldn't really believe what she was saying.

"When, in a month? When he's bored? No, thanks." Mario put his glass down harder than he intended.Oops. "You know that three days isit. Five is… embarrassing, really."

"Five is far from embarrassing," Andie argued. "It's slow, I'll give you that, but I wouldn't count him out yet."

Mario turned to Carina who was sitting out this round and sipped her beer instead.

"She's a hopeless romantic," he announced, nodding towards Andie.

"Takes one to know one." Carina gestured between the two of them.

"Hey!" Mario and Andie both protested at the same time, then looked at each other and shrugged.

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