The Trouble With Goodbye

Chapter Sixteen

I pull my car keys from my pocket, but as I unlock the door and sit down, I realize I've had way too much to drink. Even though I feel stone-cold sober, I know I can't drive right now. The last thing I need is to total a second car. Or to get pulled over. I rest my head against the steering wheel.

I'd rather die than call my parents and ask for a ride home. Penny and the other girls are all still inside the party, and there's no way I'm going back in there.

I have no idea if Jenna and her friends ever even made it.

My choices are to either sit here until I'm sober enough to drive or walk.

I get out of the car and lock the doors. It's got to be at least five miles to my parents' house, but I don't care. I need to move my feet. I need to blow off some steam and try to get my head on straight.

I acted like a complete asshole tonight. All it will take is a couple more nights like this and the whole town will be talking about what a mess Leigh Anne Davis has become. People will figure it out. They'll know, and they'll start asking questions I don't know how to answer.

My mother will never let me hear the end of it, either.

I can't live like that. I have to hold it together.

I step onto the narrow sidewalk and slip my heels from my feet. I should have worn flip-flops, but I wanted to look sexy. Pretty stupid after a night of waiting tables. My feet are swollen and a blister is already forming at the edge of my pinky toe.

I make it fifteen minutes into my walk of shame before the first tears begin to fall. I'm honestly surprised I made it that far.

A few cars pass by, but I don't look up. I hope it's no one from the party, because I look like an idiot walking home like this. I really hope it's no one I know.

And then I notice someone has slowed down and is matching my pace. I keep my eyes forward, but I know they are still there. If it's Preston, I am going to die.

Finally, I give in and look.

It's Knox.

My mouth opens slightly and I suck in a ragged breath. I quickly swipe at the tears on my cheeks and laugh at my luck. This is the second time he's seen me cry, and I don't even want to think how crazy that must make me seem. How weak and drama-queen and high-maintenance.

I stop and he stops too. The windows on the beat-up truck are rolled down and he's got one arm leaning out the driver's side, but he's ducking his head slightly to look at me through the passenger side.

"I thought that might be you," he says. "You need a ride?"

I look forward as if calculating just how far I still have left to go. "No, I'm fine." I try to smile. "Thanks, though."

I give him a slight wave, then start walking again. I expect him to wave back, maybe say goodnight, and keep moving.

But he doesn't.

I stop again and sort of cock my head and raise an eyebrow, questioning. "Are you planning on following me like this all night?"

"Well, the way I see it, it's two in the morning and that's not really the best time for a pretty girl to be walking all alone, even in a small town like this," he says. "You didn't run your car into another tree or anything right?"

I roll my eyes, but I smile. "No, I just..." My voice trails off. For some reason, I have the urge to really open up to this guy. I want to tell him all about my night and how badly it sucked. And for some reason, I feel like he'll understand. Like he'll get it.

Maybe it's something about those clear blue eyes and the flash of sadness I saw in them before. He's been through hard times, and I know it somehow, even though I barely know him at all.

"You just felt like taking a leisurely walk through town in the middle of the night?" He says it with a slight smile on his face, and I smile again too, then duck my head to try to hide it.

"Well, what about you?" I ask. "What, do you just drive around town every night looking for damsels in distress so you can play the hero?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe," he says. "I do make an awfully good hero when given the chance."

I can't hide my smile now.

"Get in," he says. He leans across the seat and pulls the handle on the passenger door, then pushes it open. "I'll take you home."

I shake my head. "I'm not sure I want to go home right now," I say. My mother is probably waiting up for me, even though I'm twenty years old. I can't face her right now. Not like this. Plus, I still can't shake this anger and confusion. "I really need to just blow off some steam. It's been kind of a rough night."

"Well, it just so happens I know the all-time best way to blow off steam."

I laugh, then bite my lip. I'm torn. For reasons I can't explain, I really want to get into this truck with him.

But is that stupid? I literally just freaked out when my ex-boyfriend tried to make out with me. Is getting in a truck with a complete stranger so he can take me lord-knows-where really the smart choice here?

I look up and he's staring at me with a world full of patience in his eyes. It's almost as if he understands the weight of the choice I'm making and he respects it.

I think of the way he held me that night in the dark. He pulled me into his arms without a second thought and never questioned my pain. I think of the butterflies I feel every time I'm near him. Butterflies I tried to force with Preston just to prove I'm still alive. That I'm not broken.

Only, the truth is, I am broken.

And the guy right here in front of me is the only one who sees it. For some reason, he seems to like me anyway.

I think maybe what I've been doing wrong this whole time is chasing my past and hating myself for not being that girl anymore. Maybe what I should do instead is learn how to embrace who I've become.

I think I'm over-analyzing this whole thing.

I stop thinking, and I get in.