Page 72 of Unrest
“Oh, it gets better. I told him I loved him as more than a sister, and that I’d always loved him, even when he was married.”
She stared at me hard, as if to gauge if I was serious, and then she stood up and started jumping on the bed, air boxing, kicking her feet up like a cheerleader as she tried to keep her squeals as quiet as possible. Then she crashed into a heap next to me, right in my face. “What did he say?!”
“He said‘Tell me when you’re sober,’and then he threw me on the bed and left.”
“Oh,” she breathed. Her eyes were still glistening with joy. “That’s good. You know that’s good, right?”
I looked down at my hands. I didn’t know that at all.
“He’s a gentleman, Amber. Do you know how rare that is? Any guy I ever tried to kiss when I was drunk was likehell yeah!—not about to turn me down. He respects you.” Her voice took on a sort of envious awe.
“I know,” I whispered. I did know he respected me, but my mind wasn’t so sure about his reasons for turning me down and not giving me any feedback about what I’d divulged. Rylenwasa gentleman, which meant he’d want to let me down when I was sober, too.
“You’re totally going to talk yourself out of telling him, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said defensively. I couldn’t look at her.
“Amber, the world is ending.” She growled, exasperated. “Let yourself have some happiness before it’s too late.Tell him.”
She didn’t wait for me to respond. She got up and daintily stomped to the bathroom to take her shower.
I laid in bed most of the day feeling like crap in all ways. Remy took pity and brought my lunch to me. While I was relieved she and I had made up so quickly, the Rylen thing was going to take a lot more courage. Remy was right—I couldn’t let it drag out. Tomorrow was not guaranteed. But God, I’d never been more nervous or humiliated.
I showered when Remy went to help prep for dinner. I didn’t know yet if I’d have the guts to go. I was leaning toward heading straight to my night watch shift without eating, but rations were small and snacks were a no-no. I couldn’t really afford to skip a meal.
Still, when it came time to go down I was pacing the room, biting my thumb nail, my stomach in tight, twisted knots. I shook my hands out, reached for the doorknob, felt a surge of panic, then backed away and paced until dinner time was over and my shift was about to begin.
I really hated myself.
The second I left the safety of my room, my nerves skyrocketed, leaving my skin prickling and my eyes darting for signs of Rylen. My empty stomach, still recovering from its abuse last night, was angry as hell. This was going to be a very long night.
I kept my head down in the hall, stairwell, and down the tunnel. I responded robotically to everyone who greeted me along the way.
“Hey.” Tater’s voice hit me as I spilled out of the tunnel. I immediately searched the vicinity for Rylen, heart pounding, but he was nowhere.
“Hey,” I said. He’d let his curly hair grow longer than the Army would have allowed before. It was like he was a teen again, except his taut face and adult scowl.
“You missed dinner,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, and I’m about to be late for my shift.”
“What’s going on with you?” He eyed me. “You look . . .tired.” In other words, I looked like shit.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Everything’s fine. I gotta go.” I gave his arm a squeeze and jogged away.
Nothing was fine, and my shift was going to suck.
I spent far too many hours being ribbed by the guys in the watch tower—everything from my so-called highly seductive dances, to my stomach growling every time it got quiet. How nice that my misery entertained them.
“For real,” Mark said. “Every time you danced the guys were taking mental videos for monkey spanking later.”
Who says that?!Only Mark Mahalchick. The other two guys laughed uproariously, though they tried very hard to do it quietly.
“Would you shut up already?” I mumbled, earning more laughter.
On our way back inside after the shift, Mark draped his arm over my shoulders as we walked down the long hall.
“You know I’m just messing with you, right?”
