Use Somebody (54 page)

“Ugh!” I growled in frustration and slapped the visor shut.

“You know, it’s just a hickey,” Gwen offered practically. “It’s not like he carved his initials onto your skin.”

“Oh, so now you’re taking his side?”

“Actually, yes. In fact, I like Vance much better than you right now. Why did you try to hide that you guys are together?”

“We are
not
together,” I dismissed. “What am I going to do about work? I have to wear my hair up. And my parents!”

“It’s called makeup, Scarlett. I know you own some.”

“That’s not the point,” I said feebly.

“You’re right. The point is, why didn’t
you
tell me? I had to hear it from this,” she poked me in the throat, and I rubbed the spot. “How long has this been going on?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and looked away. “Since just after Smudgepot,” I admitted quietly.

“Two months,” she shook her head in disappointment. “Two months of opportunities to tell me yourself, but you never did.”

“We aren’t really dating,” I said lamely. “We argue more than anything. We’re close—you know that part—and sometimes we make out. That’s all.”

“I specifically asked you what was going on between you two.
‘Nothing,’
you said.
‘We’re just friends,’
you said. You lied.”

I hung my head. “I don’t know how we got here. I never wanted it to go this far.”

“What did you intend? A secret fling with your best friend and no one gets hurt? That boy
loves
you, Scarlett.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“You
know?
Damn, I thought you were at least in denial. You know he’s in love with you, yet you’re still stringing him along?”

My eyes squeezed shut. I leaned my head against the window, the glass felt cool to the touch. “You can’t make me feel any worse about it than I already do, Gwen.”

She released a heavy sigh—one that told me her frustration level was off the charts—and reversed the Mini Cooper out of its parking spot. The air between us prickled like static. I knew she wanted to rip me a new one for this. And I knew I deserved it.

I’d left Lexi because she was a crappy friend. But was I any better? A true friend would have stuck to her convictions and never blurred the lines with Vance. A crappy friend (that would be me) wanted to have her cake and eat it, too.

The cruel part was that I foresaw this happening. I knew firsthand what it felt like to be used. But I did it anyway, and convinced myself it was a fair compromise. And instead of confiding in Gwen with my struggles, I buried the truth like some dirty secret.

Vance was right. I had turned the best friendship I ever had into a cheap affair. And I couldn’t be mad at him when he finally gained the courage to stand up for himself.

I liked Vance. I wanted him (in my own confusing way). But I had done a poor job of showing him respect.

The ride was uncomfortably quiet. It gave me time for my anger to dwindle and my brain to work in overdrive. Everything was different now that Vance had outted us. Privacy had been one of our biggest rules. Now that it was gone, I didn’t see any way to keep our arrangement afloat. Vance would no longer want to hide his affections. People would assume we belonged to one another. A long-term public tie would feel too similar to a real committed relationship. And I still wasn’t ready for that.

However, it was unrealistic to expect either one of us could go back to being just friends. Things had changed between us; we knew each other intimately, and we were connected in a way that couldn’t be easily erased. How could we see each other day in and day out without acting on our physical urges? Or our emotional ones?

This time around, I had to admit my own weaknesses up front. I wouldn’t be dating, and Vance would see that as a sign to wait for me. If he continued his pursuit, lonely nights would come along, and eventually I would cave again.

That meant the only fair option was one I desperately didn’t want to consider… we needed to end things between us once and for all. Remove the temptation permanently. Go our separate ways. Otherwise we would just keep hurting until it destroyed our friendship—all our friendships—just like the great rift that destroyed my old clique when Nathan and I broke up.

But as it was, the thought of losing Vance’s friendship was excruciating.

We were almost home when Gwen finally spoke up.

“He’s come a long way since dating Evelyn,” she remarked. “He took a lot of shit from her and never stood up for himself. But the way he looked at you tonight, like he wanted to give you the moon yet still slapped your wrist for making such a request… I liked seeing him like that.”

I nodded in agreement. “He has grown up a lot.” I remembered the confidence in his stance tonight when he said he wanted more. He finally sounded like the believed he deserved it. While a part of me was sad because of what that meant for us, a part of me was so happy that he wouldn’t continue to settle for less.

“That boy has serious balls,” she said. “I can’t believe he pulled that stunt with the hickey. I may have to bake him cookies.”

I chuckled. “Mint chocolate chip. They’re his favorite.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, Gwen.”

She nodded once, still pissed. I could only hope that she would forgive me in time.

“A bit of advice. Get off the fence before that boy comes back down from the mountain. Or you’re going to regret it.”

I knew she was right. And sadly, I already knew what side of the fence I’d be on. I didn’t want to entertain the idea of either outcome. But for one option, I wouldn’t even allow myself an errant thought.

Change was in the air tonight. Vance was leaving. Our friends had found out about us. I went from being furious with him to proud of him. Our whole relationship was in danger of ending. And I had let Gwen inside the wall a tiny bit.

“Summer’s going to hate me.”

A slow breath eased past her lips. “She already does.”

“She’s in love with Vance,” I said on exhale. “I wish I could give him that.”

“Or that Vance loved her instead,” Gwen threw in.

If only
… it made perfect sense, didn’t it? Cole and Kiki, Summer and Vance, one big happy family. They’d all been together since they were kids and I couldn’t picture a more perfect match. Summer would love Vance in the way he deserved. She’d throw elaborate parties for his family and friends. She’d cook him turkey dinners wearing high heels and pearls. She’d keep his home immaculate and add the perfect touch to the houses he flipped, with her beautiful and impeccable design. She’d be good for him… so much better than I could ever be…

“I saw that,” Gwen accused.

I steeled myself. “What?”

She shook her head in dismissal, wearing a very familiar look. It was the same expression I wore when Lexi said something ridiculous and I held my tongue. When it wasn’t even worth the breath to correct her because she was too dense to understand.

It sucked being at the receiving end of that look. It made me feel foolish. And I was so tired of feeling like a fool. But what was I supposed to do? Date Vance and pretend everything was fine just to appease everyone else? Gwen didn’t understand the rationale behind my reservation. Without explaining everything, my excuses would fall on deaf ears, too.

So I settled for vague instead. “It’s just not that simple.”

“It’s simpler than you think, Scarlett. You’ve had a few jerks for boyfriends, and at first they all seemed like nice guys, too. So you don’t trust yourself to try again, am I right?”

That was a part of it, I supposed. I nodded.

She turned on her blinker and pulled into my cul-de-sac. “You’re not gonna make the same mistake here. You wanna know how I know that?”

I sighed but humored her. “How?”

“Because you didn’t pick this one. He picked you.”

* * *

I was home for less than an hour before I heard the familiar rumble of a certain charcoal truck. I opened the shutters and peered down as Vance pulled into my driveway. He looked up and saw me silhouetted in my bedroom light. We both stared at each other, wondering how tonight had taken such a drastic turn.

He opened his door and stepped one foot out, looking up at me cautiously. “Can we talk?” he asked, and hitched a thumb towards his truck.

I swallowed, twice, and remained silent and still. Nothing had changed, we were still at an impasse. If I went out there, we would be facing some kind of finality. I didn’t know how I’d gather the courage to do it.

“Please?”

After a few seconds, I nodded, resigned. My movements were slow and sluggish. But one step at a time, I turned off my light, put on my shoes, and made my way down to the street.

We sat in thick silence for several minutes. He didn’t even turn on the music.

I recalled the last thing I’d said to him at The Alley.
“Oh well, that was fun while it lasted,”
I had spat with venom, ending things between us and belittling everything we’d shared. The hurt in his eyes replayed on a loop in my mind. After everything he had done for me, the thought made me sick.

“I just wanted to say—” I started at the same time as Vance said “I didn’t wanna—”

We both chuckled nervously.

Cue awkward silence
.

“Let me go first,” Vance said and I nodded. “I didn’t want to leave things the way they are. I won’t see you for two weeks, and I couldn’t leave without apologizing and uh… oh, I got you this.”

He reached in the backseat and fumbled a bit before revealing a plastic store bag. I stared at it for a second in confusion. He got me a present? Wasn’t that how he patched things up with Evelyn after they fought? Fancy jewelry and gifts? Well, no thank you. I was
not
Evelyn and he wasn’t going to buy my affection or forgiveness with
gifts.
My heart may have been locked away, but I knew one thing for sure—this was not the key.

He rubbed the back of his neck while I sat unmoving. Once he realized I wasn’t going to take the bag, he reached in and pulled out a length of fabric. He noisily tossed the bag away and held up the cloth with both hands. I felt his eyes on me as I took in the gift he offered up to me.

It was absolutely beautiful—a silky red scarf with delicate patterns of white and black woven through the fabric. My eyes were mesmerized by the vibrant colors and soft swirls.

“I screwed up,” he explained. “I’m not sorry that they know now, but I’m sorry for how I did it. And more importantly I’m sorry that I hurt you. You are not cheap. Even though you aren’t mine, you are incredibly special to me. I can’t take back what I did. This is just so you can, you know…” he hesitated a second, then leaned forward to slowly wrap the scarf around my shoulders. He used both hands to lift my hair, then let it drop, my curls tumbling softly over the material and down my back. His thumb lightly brushed the spot on my neck before he tied it in a loose knot in the front.

He leaned back and studied me. My gaze dropped to the scarf hanging down my front, and my hands moved to touch the soft fabric. The colors reminded me of the journal he had given to me for my birthday. Blacks, whites and reds.

I ran my fingers over the silky material, seeing the gift as a peace offering. He had gotten the scarf to
cover me
, showing me that despite the stupid hickey, he respected me.

It was a beautiful gesture—nothing grand or expensive—one that revealed how much he truly understood me. The very thought caused a fluttering in my chest, for that’s all I’d ever really wanted.

“Say something,” he murmured.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. I cleared my throat and looked at him sincerely, hoping I wasn’t doing everything completely wrong. “Thank you. This is so thoughtful. I’m sorry too. You were right, I haven’t been fair. I… care about you, Vance. But there are things about me you don’t know.”

“Just tell me. Nothing you can say will ever change the way I feel about you. Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“I know it will,” I answered honestly. “But I’m more afraid of how it will feel to hear myself say it out loud.”

“Is this about what happened? That made you feel like you don’t deserve to be loved?”

I closed my eyes and nodded.

He cradled my face in his hands and touched his forehead to mine. “You
do
deserve it. What kind of existence is this without love? Your wall is blocking everything out, including the good. You need to deal with whatever you’re holding onto so you can move forward.”

“I can’t,” I pleaded.

“Talk to me,” he whispered. “We’ll work through it. Together.”

I exhaled deeply. What kind of breakthrough was he expecting on the eve of his departure? I shook my head but didn’t break free from his hold, greedily soaking up his comfort. He would be gone for two whole weeks, so I’d have to absorb enough warmth to get me through fourteen lonely nights ahead.