Page 11 of This Girl


  consequences, not me.”

  Gavin leans back in his chair and runs his hands over his face, defeated. As soon as I feel victorious, he shoots forward in his seat. “If you don’t go, I’ll tell.”

  I lean back in my chair and glare at him. “You’ll tell what?”

  He glances at the door, then back at me, ensuring our privacy. “I’ll go to Principal Murphy and I’ll tell him you went out with a student. I’m sorry it has to come to blackmail, Will, but you don’t know Eddie when she gets an idea in her head. You have to do this for me.”

  Did he really just threaten to blackmail me?

  I pick up my pen and pull my lesson plan in front of me, breaking eye contact with him. “Gavin, you won’t tell,” I say, laughing.

  He groans at my response, because he knows he would never stoop that low. “You’re right. I’d never tell. But don’t you think you owe it to me for being so trustworthy?” he says. “It’s just one date. One tiny favor. What difference can one date make?”

  “Depending on who it’s with, it can make a huge difference,” I say. One date with Lake was enough to send my life into a tailspin.

  “If it helps, you won’t have to do much talking. Taylor and Eddie will completely monopolize the conversation. We can eat our steaks and grunt every few minutes and they’ll be none the wiser. Then it’ll be over. I swear.”

  I do owe him a favor. A huge favor. He’s the only one who knows about my situation with Lake and he’s never once given me flak about it. I don’t know how Eddie can get her way when she’s not even in the room, but I finally relent. I slap my pen down on the desk and sigh, giving him a stern look.

  “Fine,” I say. “Under one condition.”

  “Anything,” he says.

  “I don’t want this to get back to Lake. Tell Eddie I’ll go, but give her an excuse to keep her quiet. Tell her I’m not supposed to be hanging out with you two after hours or something.”

  Gavin stands and gathers his things. “Thank you, Will,” he says. “You’re a lifesaver. And hey, you might even like Taylor. Keep an open mind.”

  •••

  I WALK INTO the restaurant and spot the three of them in a booth in the far corner. I take a deep breath, then grudgingly walk toward them. I can’t believe I’m going on a date. A date that’s not with Lake, the only girl I want to be on a date with.

  The girl I can’t be on a date with.

  Gavin’s words, “keep an open mind,” linger in my head. I’ve been completely consumed by thoughts of Lake since I met her almost three weeks ago. I’ve made the right choice by not continuing something that could ruin my career, but now I just need to figure out how to accept that choice and get her out of my head. Maybe Gavin’s right. Maybe I do need to try to move on. It could be better for both of us this way.

  When Gavin spots me, he waves and stands up, prompting Taylor to turn around. She’s . . . cute. Really cute. Her hair is darker than Lake’s and shorter, but it fits her well. She’s not as tall as Lake, either. She’s got a great smile; one of those that seems to be permanently affixed.

  I reach the table and smile back at her. Might as well give this a shot.

  “Will, Taylor. Taylor, Will,” Gavin says, gesturing between us. She smiles and stands up, then gives me a quick hug. General greetings pass around the table and we take our seats. It’s odd sitting on the same side of the booth with her. I don’t know if I should turn toward her or give my attention to Eddie and Gavin.

  “So,” she says. “Gavin says you’re a teacher?”

  I nod. “Student teacher. Until December graduation, anyway.”

  “You’re graduating in December?” she asks, taking a sip of her soda. “How? Isn’t that a semester early?”

  The waitress walks up to the table and hands me a menu, interrupting the short conversation. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “I’ll have a sweet tea,” I say. The waitress nods and walks away, then Eddie nudges Gavin and pushes his shoulder.

  “Sorry, guys, but . . . something just came up,” Eddie says. Gavin stands up and pulls his wallet out of his pocket, throwing some cash down on the table.

  “This should cover our drinks. You can take Taylor home, right?” he says to me.

  “Something came up, huh?” I ask, glaring at both of them. I can’t believe they’re doing this. I’m so going to fail them.

  “Uh, yeah,” Eddie says, taking Gavin’s hand. “So sorry we can’t stay. You two have fun.”

  And they’re gone. Just like that.

  Taylor laughs. “Wow. That wasn’t obvious,” she says.

  I turn back to her and she’s grinning, shaking her head. Now it really feels odd sitting in the same side of the booth with her. “Well,” I say. “This is . . .”

  We both say “awkward” at the same time, which causes us to laugh.

  “Do you mind if . . .” I point to the other side of the booth and she shakes her head.

  “No, please. I’ve never been a same-side-of-the-booth girl. It’s weird.”

  “I agree,” I say, scooting into the seat across from her. The waitress brings my drink and takes our order. It gives us about thirty seconds of distraction before she walks away again, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

  Taylor lifts her glass up, motioning to mine. “To awkward first dates,” she says. I pick my glass up and clink it against hers.

  “So, before all that,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “We were talking about how you were graduating a semester early?”

  “Yeah . . .” I pause. I don’t really feel like going into detail about the real reasons I’m graduating early. I lean back in the booth and shrug. “When I want something, I guess I just focus until I get it. Tunnel vision,” I say.

  She nods. “Impressive. I’ve still got a year left, but I’m going into teaching, too. Primary. I like kids.”

  Our conversation begins to flow better. We talk about college for a while, then when the food comes we talk about that. Then when we run out of things to talk about, she brings up her family. I let her talk about them, but I don’t divulge. By the time the bill comes, the conversation is far from awkward. I’ve only thought about Lake ten times. Maybe fifteen.

  Everything seems okay until we’re in the car, backing out of the parking lot. Seeing her sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window; it’s reminiscent of just a few weeks ago when Lake was doing the exact same thing, in this exact same spot. But it doesn’t feel anything like that. That night with Lake I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her while we drove and she slept, her hand still locked with mine. I’m not one to believe that there is only one person right for me in the world. But the tug and pull Lake has on me, even when she isn’t in my presence, it makes it feel like she’s the most right for me. As much as I think Taylor and I would hit it off on a second date, I’m not so sure I’ll ever be able to settle for anything less than what I feel for Lake.

  We make more small talk and she directs me toward her house. When we pull up into the driveway, the awkwardness immediately sets in. I don’t want to lead her on at all, but I also don’t want her to think she did anything wrong to turn me off. She was great. The date was great. It’s just that my date with Lake was so much more, and now I want nothing less.

  I put the car in park and, as awkward as this is going to be, I offer to walk her to her door. When we reach the patio, she turns around and looks up at me with an inviting and welcoming look on her face. This is the point where I need to be honest with her. I don’t want to get her hopes up.

  “Taylor . . .” I say. “I had a really good ti—” Before I can finish my sentence, her lips are meshed with mine. She doesn’t seem like the type to make such bold moves, so the kiss catches me completely off guard. She runs her hands through my hair and I’m suddenly faced with the realization that I don’t know what to do with my own hands. Do I touch her? Do I push her away? To be honest, the kiss isn’t half bad and I catch myself closing my eyes, bringing
my hand to her cheek. I know I shouldn’t be making comparisons but I can’t help it. This kiss is reminiscent of kissing Vaughn. It’s not bad . . . pleasant even. But there isn’t any emotion in it. No passion. Nothing like what I felt when I kissed Lake.

  Lake.

  I prepare to pull myself away from her when she finally pulls back herself. I’m relieved I didn’t have to be the one to push her away. She takes a step back and covers her mouth in embarrassment. “Wow,” she says. “I’m so sorry. I’m not usually that forward.”

  I laugh. “It’s fine. Really, Taylor. It was nice.”

  I’m not lying; it was nice.

  “You’re just really . . . I don’t know,” she says, still smiling uncomfortably. “I just wanted to kiss you,” she shrugs.

  I rub the back of my neck and glance at her front door, then back at her. How am I going to say this?

  She follows my gaze to her front door, then back to me and smiles. “Oh. You uh . . . You want to come inside?”

  Oh, god, oh, god. Why did I look at the door? She thinks I want to come inside now. Do I want to come inside? Shit. I don’t want to come inside. I can’t. I wouldn’t be thinking about Taylor at all if I went inside.

  “Taylor,” I say. “I need to be honest with you. I think you’re great. I had a great time. If we did this a few months ago, I’d be inside that house with you in a heartbeat.”

  She can see where I’m headed, so she just nods. “But . . .” she says.

  “There’s someone else. Someone recent that I can’t seem to get past. I agreed to this date because I was hoping that maybe it would somehow help me get over her, but . . . it’s too soon.”

  She looks up at the sky and drops her arms to her side. “Oh, god. I just kissed you. I thought you were feeling it, too, so I kissed you.” She covers her face with her hands, embarrassed. “I’m an idiot.”

  “No,” I say, taking a step closer. “No, don’t say that. I know this is cliché and it’s the last thing you want to hear, but . . . it’s not you, it’s me. It’s completely me. Really. I think you’re great and cute and I’m glad you kissed me. Honestly, the timing just really sucks. That’s all.”

  She hugs herself with her arms and looks down at the ground. “If it’s just timing,” she says quietly, “will you keep my number? In case the timing thing ever gets better?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Definitely.”

  She nods, then looks up at me. “Okay, then,” she smiles. “To awkward first dates.”

  I laugh. “To awkward first dates,” I say. She waves and heads inside. Once she’s inside her house, I sigh and head back to my car. “Never again, Gavin,” I mutter. “Never again.”

  10.

  the honeymoon

  “EXCUSE ME FOR a second,” Lake says. She pushes herself up and walks to the bathroom, then slams the door behind her.

  She’s mad? Seriously? Oh, hell no. I jump up and try to open the bathroom door, but it’s locked from the inside. I knock. After several seconds, she swings it open and spins back around toward the shower without looking at me. She turns the shower knob until the water comes to life, then she slips off her shirt.

  “I just need a shower,” she snaps.

  I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms. “You’re mad. Why are you mad? Nothing happened. I never went out with her again.”

  She shakes her head and closes the lid to the toilet, then takes a seat on top of it. She slips off her socks one at a time and tosses them to the floor with a jerk of her wrist. “I’m not mad,” she says, still avoiding eye contact.

  “Lake?” She doesn’t look up at me. “Lake? Look at me,” I demand.

  She inhales a slow breath, then looks up at me through her lashes, her mouth puckered into a pout.

  “Three days ago you made a promise to me,” I say. “Do you remember what that promise was?”

  She rolls her eyes and stands up, unbuttoning her pants. “Of course I remember, Will. It was three freaking days ago.”

  “What did you promise me you wouldn’t do?”

  She walks to the mirror and pulls at her ponytail, letting her hair down. She doesn’t respond. I take a step closer to her. “What did you promise, Lake? What did we both promise each other the night before we got married?”

  She grabs her brush off the counter and vigorously combs at her hair. “That we would never carve pumpkins with each other,” she mumbles. “That we would talk everything out.”

  “And what are you doing right now?”

  She slams the brush down on the counter and turns to me. “What the hell do you want me to say, Will? Do you want me to admit that I’m not perfect? That I’m jealous? I know you said it didn’t mean anything to you, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t mean something to me!” She brushes past me and walks to my suitcase to grab her bottle of conditioner. I lean against the bathroom door again and watch her toss the contents of my suitcase onto the floor while she continues searching for more toiletries.

  I don’t give her a rebuttal; I have a feeling she isn’t finished. Once she gets started like this, it’s better if I don’t interrupt her. She finds her razor and spins around, continuing her rant.

  “And I know you didn’t kiss her first, but you didn’t not kiss her. And you admitted you thought she was cute! And you even admitted that if it weren’t for me, you probably would have asked her out again! I hate her, Will. She sounded really, really nice and I hate her for it. It feels like she’s been your backup plan in case the two of us didn’t work out.”

  She marches toward me again, but this last comment of hers really gets to me. My backup plan? I block her way into the bathroom and look down at her, attempting to calm her down before she says something she’ll regret.

  “Lake, you know how I felt about you back then. I never even thought about that girl again. I knew exactly who I wanted to be with. It was just a matter of when.”

  She drops her arms to her side. “Well, that’s nice that you had that reassurance, because I sure as hell didn’t. I lived every single day feeling like I was going through hell while you were across the street, choosing everything and everyone over me. Not to mention all the while going on dates and kissing other girls while I sat home, watching my own mother die right before my eyes.”

  I step forward and grab her face with both hands. “That’s. Not. Fair,” I say through clenched teeth. She darts her eyes away from mine, aware of the low blow she delivered. She pulls away from my grasp and walks around me, back into the bathroom. She pushes open the shower curtain and adjusts the water again, letting her pride and stubbornness win.

  “That’s it? You’re leaving it at that?” I say loudly. She doesn’t look up at me. I can sense when I need to step away from a situation, and this is one of those times. If I don’t walk away, I’ll say something I’ll regret, too. I punch the door and storm out of the bathroom, then swing open the door to the hallway. I slam the hotel room door and pace back and forth, cursing under my breath. Each time I pass our hotel room, I pause and turn toward it, expecting her to open the door and apologize.

  She never does.

  She just got in the shower? How in the hell can she say something like that to me and just get in the damn shower without apologizing? God, she’s so infuriating! I haven’t been this mad at her since that night I thought she was kissing Javi.

  I rest my back against our door and slide down to the floor, then take fistfuls of my hair into my hands. She can’t seriously be mad about this. We weren’t even dating! I try to justify her reasons for reacting the way she is, but I can’t. She’s acting like an immature high schooler.

  “Will?” she says, her voice muffled by the door. She sounds close and I realize she’s on the other side of the door at my level. The fact that she knew I was sitting on the floor in front of the door pisses me off even more. She knows me too well.

  “What?” I say sharply.

  It’s silent for a moment, then she sighs. “I’m sorry I said that,” she
says softly.

  I lean my head against the door and close my eyes, taking in a long, deep breath.

  “It’s just . . . I know we don’t believe in soulmates,” she says. “There are so many people in this world that can be right for each other. If there weren’t, then cheating would never be an issue. Everyone would find their one true love and life would be great—relationships would be a piece of cake. But that’s not how it is in reality, and I realize this. So . . . it just hurts, okay? It hurts me to know that there are other women out there in the world that could make you happy. I know it’s immature and I was being petty and jealous, but . . . I just want to be your only one. I want to be your soulmate, even if I don’t believe in them. I overreacted and I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m really sorry, Will.”

  There’s silence on both ends, then I hear the bathroom door shut. I close my eyes and contemplate everything she said. I know exactly how she feels; I’ve been prone to my own bouts of jealousy in the past when it comes to her. Back when I was her teacher and hearing her agree to that date with Nick, then later seeing Javi kiss her; I lost my mind both times. Hell, I beat the shit out of Javi, and Lake wasn’t even my girlfriend at the time. Expecting her not to have a reaction when she finds out I kissed someone else in the midst of all our emotional turmoil makes me nothing but a hypocrite. She had a normal reaction just now, and I’m treating her like this is her fault. She’s probably in the shower right now, crying. All because of me.

  I’m such an asshole.

  I jump up and slide the key card in, then open the door. I swing open the bathroom door and she’s sitting on the edge of the shower, still in her pants and bra, crying into her hands. She looks up at me with the saddest eyes and guilt consumes me. I grab her hand and pull her up. She sucks in a breath like she’s scared I’m about to yell at her again, which only makes me feel worse. I slide my hands through her hair and grip the nape of her neck, then look her in the eyes. She can see in my expression that I’m not here to fight.

  I’m here to make up.

  “Wife,” I say, staring straight into her eyes. “Think what you want, but there isn’t a single woman in this whole damn universe that I could ever love like I love you.”