We Were Giants

Chapter 30

"I want to," Isaiah finally says when he sees I'm done. "But I have to work Valentine's Day. Can we go out for dinner on Sunday, instead?"

I relax He does want to see me. He does want to celebrate. I have got to learn to stop freaking out. Isaiah still likes me.

"That'd be great," I smile.

But it's not great. Because Isaiah's not working on Valentine's Day when I swing by to surprise him at his usual break time. Isaiah's scheduled to be off tonight, they tell me as I show up overdressed for a pizzeria. The rose and chocolates in my hand look ridiculous as I walk dejectedly back to my car. Why did Isaiah lie to me?

I sit in my car and try to pull myself together. I'm not going to cry. Not tonight.

I drive to Cameron's house, the house where Isaiah is temporarily boarding, and I sit in the driveway for a second. Only Cameron's car is here. His brothers are either at work or on a date. His dad must be at work. He's an executive chef at a restaurant; there's no way he has tonight off.

I ring the Mathis' doorbell and hear footsteps padding down the stairs. The door opens, and Isaiah stands there in a tank top and shorts. Cameron is not far behind wearing only shorts, his fit body glaring at me victoriously. I feel my mouth drop open. I look from Cameron to Isaiah, and back again.

"Cade," Isaiah says, his voice shocked and embarrassed.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I throw the rose and chocolate at him. I reach into my jacket pocket and fish out the flipbook and I throw it at him for good measure.

I am going to cry tonight. I'm going to cry hard. I'm going to climb in my bed and curl up and pray never to see Isaiah Rosenthal or Cameron Mathis ever again.

"Cade, I can explain," Isaiah calls after me as I climb into my car and slam the door. I speed out so quickly, my tires squeal.

My phone rings a hundred times as I drive. I ignore it every time. I can't believe this. I saw all the signs. Kayla warned me.

I can't believe Isaiah would do this to me. On Valentine's Day. It's not even a real holiday. It's not even anything. But still. I can't believe he would do this to me.

My phone rings another time as I pull in my own driveway. I ignore it again. I can't talk to him. Every time I'm finally happy, something comes along to screw it up again.

I open the front door to my house. Chanel No. 5 wafts through the house and Mom is standing in the living room in a red dress and pearls.

"Cade," Mom breathes. "We were worried. We've got to leave for our date and you weren't answering."

"What happened?" Mom stops mid-thought when she sees me. She crosses the room and pulls me into her, but I pull away. I don't want to be held. I don't want to be comforted.

"Isaiah said he had to work tonight, so I went to see him. But he didn't have to work. He was with Cameron," I'm crying so hard I don't know if I even make any sense.

I try to pull myself together. I feel guilty for crying to Mom. She's happy. She's going on her first Valentine's date in four years, and she's going with the man she's loved since high school. I can't ruin this for her.

"Y'all go," I try to say calmly. "You're going to miss your reservations."

When Dad comes out, he looks as amazing as my mom. He's dressed to the nines in an Armani suit. His hair is slicked back. They look like movie stars. They look like the silver screen, just like they used to when I was little.

"No," Dad says firmly in a way that surprises me. "It's okay."

Dad pulls me into a hug and I try not to get tears on his Armani.