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So, I sigh and shake my head. “I don’t have anybody to call.”
“What are you, forty? You don’t use a phone for calling people, silly.”
Carter snatches the phone out of my hand, and I watch his face light up blue as he tap, tap, taps on the screen. Seconds later, the soft strumming of a ukulele drifts over the croaking of the fountain frogs as Tyler Joseph sings about a house made of gold.
“You’re supposed to use it to listen to your favorite band. Duh.”
I smile politely at his proud, illuminated face beaming in triumph. Carter is trying so hard to cheer me up. Now’s probably not the time to tell him that Twenty One Pilots was never my favorite band.
It was his.
“Thanks, Carter.” I take the phone from him and set it on the fountain next to me, letting it play. “That was really sweet.”
He nods, and his smile slowly fades. The two of us look around as we listen to the music. He nudges a loose tile back into place with his sneaker. I pick at my hoodie sleeves. He shifts a few inches closer to me. I hold my breath until I can feel my heartbeat in my neck.
“Your hair is shorter.” Carter’s voice rumbles in my ear as he reaches up and slides two fingers down the front strands of my black hack job.
I flinch and pull back slightly, tucking that side behind my ear. “Yep. And yours is longer.”
“Car Radio” begins to play, the electronic beat mimicking my erratic pulse as Tyler raps about being unable to distract himself from his dark thoughts.
Maybe Twenty One Pilots is my favorite band after all.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Carter whispers, crowding my space.
I can smell the tequila on his warm breath, and the inside of my hoodie suddenly feels like a sauna.
“I thought about you every single day, Rainbow,” he slurs, leaning down to press his forehead to the side of mine. “Every single second.”
I place my hand on the fountain ledge beside me to help support his weight.
“I wanted to come home to see you so bad, but I couldn’t stand the thought of having to say goodbye all over again. It’d almost killed me the first time.”
Carter slides a hand up the outside of my thigh, and all I can hear is the sound of blood rushing in my ears.
“I missed you so much, ba—”
The second I feel his lips graze the corner of my mouth, I grab my phone and jump up. “I’d, uh … better go check on Quint,” I mumble, walking away backward. “Night, Carter!”
I turn and sprint toward the tuxedo shop as the voice coming from my fist sings about not being the person their partner used to know.
I shut the device off and shove it into my pocket.
You and me both, Tyler. You and me both.
May 2
Rain
“Knock, knock.” I peek my head over the empty shelves and breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t see Carter. “Anybody home?”
“Rainbow!” Sophie squeals, using her whole arm to wave at me from her seat on one of the black vinyl shoe store benches.
Mrs. Renshaw’s face lights up too, but her husband—who is lying flat on his back on his own bench with his splinted leg propped up on an empty shelf—won’t even look at me. He throws his elbow over his eyes and grumbles something unintelligible through his wiry gray beard.
“There’s my hero!” Mrs. Renshaw stands and spreads her arms, ready to pull me in for a hug as soon as I make my way through the maze of aisles.
I walk directly into her embrace but find myself gritting my teeth to get through it and pulling away sooner than usual. My reaction surprises me. I love Mrs. Renshaw.
