Page 13 of The Fast Lane
“Well,” I cleared my throat, “Theo is driving out and, according to Cal, said I could go with him.” I pushed the second croissant I’d dug out of the bag aside and laid my cheek on the table. It was cool on my skin. If there was one subject that made me flush, it was Theo.
“Oh, really?”
“Don’t say it,” I muttered, closing my eyes so I couldn’t see her smirk.
“I bet he volunteered for that job. All those long, long hours in a car, only the two of you.”
I groaned. “We won’t even be alone for long. We’re picking up Mack in Amarillo.”
“What’s the big deal? You like hanging out with him.”
“Yes. It’s just…”
How do I explain I tried so hard to limit my time around Theo because I didn’t want to get too attached, too hopeful? He wasn’t interested in me like that, no matter what Mae thought. He’d made that clear years ago and we’d managed to find a way to get over the awkwardness and keep our friendship. It had taken years to make everyone forget Theo-besotted teenage Ali and her earnestness. It had taken years to (mostly) forget how banged up my heart got, too.
“Is it because of Al—er, the Spawn of Satan?” she asked hesitantly. “Do you still miss him?”
“Ugh. No.” I didn’t miss him. I missed the idea of having a person. I missed cuddling and laughing and kissing. But I didn’t miss Alec. He could go jump in a piranha-infested lake and die a slow, painful death.
It was going to be so great seeing him at the wedding, a real highlight of my summer. Obviously.
The honest truth was I was still hurt because of what Alec said when he broke up with me. How he labelled me as “emotionally unavailable” and “closed off” and said that I “deflected” when things got “real.” He went on to say I was “too set in my ways” and “unwilling to bend.” It was like he’d taken a crash course from Dr. Phil.
He wasn’t wrong about some of it.
When we graduated, he moved to Dallas for a job he landed; I headed back to Two Harts. We decided to keep dating despite the five-hour drive between us and our relationship being so new. For the first year or so, it seemed to work. He came to see me; I’d bribe someone to drive me there. We did it; we were one of those couples that could survive long-distance dating.
I actually bragged about this.
Until it became clear Alec was starting to get frustrated. He began to occasionally bring up the idea of me moving to Dallas. Wouldn’t it be great if we lived in the same city, like before? We could see each other all the time. Or, what if I started driving again? That would make things easier. But I had never told Alec the reason behind my fear of driving.
At first, the comments were small and infrequent, easy for me to brush off, to pretend the idea of either of those things didn’t make me nauseated. Then his questions got more direct and forceful. He wanted answers.
My dream had always been to live in Two Harts, raise a family here, give them the kind of idyllic, small-town childhood I’d had. I hated Dallas with its skyscrapers and traffic and fake country chic twist on everything. I tried to explain this to Alec, tried to make him understand. When the bitterness began to seep in, we ignored it. It was another two years of phone calls and text messages and trips to see each other, of sly comments and rolled eyes, of hurt feelings and misunderstandings. But I still stuck with it. At least I had a person, right?
Then one Saturday afternoon, he threw up all the feelings he’d been keeping inside. Looking back, Alec had done us a favor. I even respected him for it, for not trying to shield me from the truth like I was a delicate flower who couldn’t handle it. Like the way my parents insisted on treating me.
What I didn’t respect was how he’d broken up with me. Via text message.
He got to say all the things he wanted to say and then he blocked my number like the rotten coward he was. I hadn’t told anyone, including Mae, that. I couldn’t bear to say it out loud. Four years of my life and all I was worth to him was a long, ranty text message and the cost of postage to mail back the few things he had of mine.
“Maybe,” Mae said, interrupting my thoughts, “this is a chance to see how you feel about Theo and how he feels about you.”
“I don’t think I’m relationship material.” I picked at the flaky bits on my croissant, not meeting her eyes. “Maybe I’m too selfish.”
Mae’s lips thinned. “That doesn’t sound like the Ali I know. It sounds like something that gaslighting, insensitive, narcissistic jackass tried to make you believe.” Mae had never been a big fan of Alec. She scooted her chair next to mine and put an arm around my shoulders. “I’m worried about you.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I’m kind of worried about me, too.”
“It’s like Alec broke up with you and he took all your sunshine with him.” I put my head on her shoulder. “I hate him.”
That’s the kind of friendship we had; we showed our love with mutual hate. True loyalty.
My nose stung, but I sat up and flashed Mae a big smile. “Hey, I’m still a freaking ray of sunshine, what are you talking about?”
Mae’s return smile was small. “Yes, you are.”
“I like my life. It’s a great life.”