Page 40 of The Interception
A horrible screeching sound interrupts him and startles us apart. He yanks his phone from his pocket and groans. “That’s Coach. He’s called a meeting. I gotta go in here again before I head home.” He checks his watch. “Hopefully, I’ll get done before she needs the truck.”
“Worry not. If you don’t, then message me and I’ll pick her up. No worries.”
Without warning, Ender leans into the truck, kisses my cheek, and steps back. “Sorry, I gotta run, but I really appreciate it. I’ll let you know.” He shuts the truck door as his phone screeches again. I watch him answer it and say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. I’m in the lot, which is why I didn’t answer immediately.”
Ender jogs up the stairs, leaving me swooning in the truck. How can so many kisses on the cheek and temple make me feel more cared for than an actual, real kiss? I don’t know. But…now I really want to find out what thoserealkisses might be like.
Chapter Eighteen
Ender
Coach’s emergency impromptu meetingended up being an extra practice no one had prepared for, so there was more complaining and groaning than usual. I spent the entire practice trying to figure out what we could design that would be easy for Layne to make on her own, but enough to blow the judges away.
It’s evening before I make it back home. Fortunately, Layne was kind enough to take my sister to her interview, but when I walk through the front door and find Sarah Beth in her pajamas, I realize it was another bust.
She didn’t even speak to me when I entered the living room. She merely forced a smile, picked up her blanket, and waddled to her bedroom. My heart cracks again, bringing the grand total to about a thousand and one fractures that I’m not sure I can repair. My sister’s pain couples with mine and I miss my best friend all over again.
I know my friend and his freakish obsession with safety. I know he looked both ways. He was careful. Paid attention. But he never expected a drunk driver to hop the curb and slaminto him the second he took his foot off the sidewalk. Despite knowing all of this, I still get angry with him for leaving. I have to remind myself it was the last thing he wanted, not with Sarah Beth and Lula still here, grieving for him. But it’s hard, and it only gets harder with each passing day.
Reminding myself I need to call Layne doesn’t stop the pain. In fact, it only amplifies it in some ways. Her cheerful, supporting personality and the way she’s not afraid to show her vulnerability when she’snotcheerful reminds me so much of Asher. It’s probably why Sarah Beth immediately bonded with her.
I fall on the sofa and call her.
“Hey,” she answers. “Long day for you. How are you?”
“Good, I guess.”
The line goes silent for a while, just the sound of my own breathing.
“What happened, Ender?” Her tone is different. It’s soft, kind, welcoming in a way that makes me want to tell her every single thing that’s ever gone wrong in my life, then tell her that when I’m with her, it doesn’t seem so awful anymore.
Instead, I say, “Sarah Beth’s interview. I guess it went badly?”
“Oh,” she whispers. “Yeah. It went about as awfully as my last one did. I took her to get ice cream, she cried it out, then wanted to be alone with Lula after the sitter left. I offered to stay, but she just needed some time.”
“Yeah, I get it. It’s hard to watch her failures pile up on her, you know? Not that they’re really failures, but to her they are. It takes a lot out of her. And Asher was always so good about lifting her up and supporting her through things like this.”
“The way your tone changes when you talk about him, I can tell you really loved him, too,” Layne says.
“He was my best friend. I think when he died it hit me as hard as it did her, and for a long time I felt guilty about that. LikeI shouldn’t be grieving at all because he was her husband, the father of her child. You know? And don’t even get me started on dating. I can’t imagine doing that while she’s in this position.” I don’t mean to say that last part, especially since I’m not so sure I believe it anymore.
“I guess that makes sense why you might feel that way, but it’s not true. You need to grieve too.”
My deep sigh fades over the line. “I know. I do in some ways, but just when I think I’ve got my feelings sorted out, something reminds me of him. Or Lula will do something so adorable, and I think I should record it to show him later and…then it hits me all over again.”
My chest tightens thinking about my niece and how much she’ll miss without her father in the picture. I miss him more than words can fully define.
“Do you want to tell me about him? Would that help sort some things out?”
Can I talk about him without falling into more grief than I can manage right now? Probably not, but Layne’s soft, lulling tone almost has me wanting to tell her every detail of my life, including how he came into it like a wrecking ball.
“Yeah, I think maybe I do. Can you meet me somewhere? I feel…stifled in this house right now. If it’s not too late for you, I mean.”
“Why don’t you come over here? We can build a fire in the pit out back and talk. Sound good?”
“Sounds amazing. I’ll be right over.”
This is a bad idea. I know it is. How many times can she wiggle free from my embrace before I accept reality? She’s not interested in me, and trying to pretend otherwise is going to cause problems between us. So why am I still driving overto the house where she’s staying? Because I am a glutton for punishment.
