Page 25 of Unlikely
“I’ve got to go,” I announce. “Nina’s having a bit of a crisis, and I want to check in on her before I go home tonight.”
“Is she okay?” The concern on Raine’s face fills me with guilt. “Let me text her, she knows she’s welcome here any time.”
Certain panic is written all over my face.
Zara pushes her chair back, rising off the seat, clearly reading me like a book. “Why don’t I pack you and Nina a container of pasta each.”
It’s not at all what I expect her to say, but considering she gives me an out, I run with it.
“Thanks, that’ll be great,” I say through a tight smile.
When Zara is out of earshot in the kitchen, Raine looks over at me, full of concern. “Are you sure you’re okay to go to Nina’s? I can go instead.”
The thing about working with your friends is you’re all up in each other’s business, and for the first time ever, I hate it. I don’t want to lie to Raine, and I don’t want to put Nina in the middle, but I don’t think I have any other choice.
I can’t sit here with Zara’s eyes on me, the things she knows and the things we’d done floating between us. It’s too much, and I feel too naked and exposed, in a way the night with her never made me feel.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “It’ll be a good distraction. We have a shift, all three of us, this week anyway. And we’ll all be able to catch up.”
This seems to appease her, and my guilt, but before she can say more, her phone must vibrate in her pocket. Holding up a finger, she drags it out of her pocket and looks up at me apologetically.
“I’m sorry, it’s my dad. I’ll be quick.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be silly, take your time. I’m good cleaning up.”
Rising up off my chair, I pile all the dirty dishes together and take them to the kitchen where Zara is meticulously preparing me leftovers. I have no idea why it makes me want to cry, but the reminder of just how gentle and caring she can be is too much for me to bear; the fact that for all intents and purposes, this stranger—because that’s what she is—has made me feel more secure than anyone else has in my twenty-four years of existence, is a problem.
With my strides slow, I place the dishes in the sink. I open my mouth to say something, but she beats me to it. “You don’t have to leave.”
A humorless laugh leaves my mouth. “Yeah, I do.”
She hands me my leftovers. “I don’t want to make things awkward between you and Raine.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that. We’ll be fine.”
When the silence stretches too long, I know I’ve overstayed my welcome. “Thanks for dinner.”
She doesn’t follow me when I walk away, and for that I’m grateful. Quickly, I make sure there are no dishes left on the table and then make my way upstairs to Raine’s room. She’s sitting on her bed, still on the phone, and it’s the perfect way for me to slip outside without any fuss.
Grabbing my backpack, I kiss her on the forehead and then bring my hand to my ear, the universal sign that I’ll call her later.
“Hey, Papa,” she says into the phone. “Can you give me a sec?” Then to me she says, “I can walk you out.”
“No.” I push her lightly back onto the bed. “I’ll be fine. I’m fine. I promise. Thank you for tonight.”
“Okay. Call me if you need me,” she says.
“I will.”
A text message shows up on my screen as I’m walking down the stairs.
I’m here.
Without any fuss or fanfare, I open the front door and slip out of my best friend’s house. I launch myself into Nina’s passenger seat, her eyes darting between me and the front door.
“Okay, but where’s the fire? And where’s Raine? What happened?”
I look back at the front door, expecting Zara to walk outside once she notices I left without saying goodbye.