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THROUGH THE DARK
"How are things?" Paige asked Monday over the phone.
"Everything's good now, Tripp and his band made up and I think he'll get the role if he auditions," I said as I sat lounging in my room with Snickers. Tripp and the others were around somewhere when I decided to kick back and call up my best friend to see how things were going. "How are things with you?"
Paige responded with a loud, girly squeal. "OMG, Chloey, guess what?"
"What?" I asked, bracing myself for anything.
"Me and Saul are hitting it off!" Paige shouted so loudly I had to hold the phone away from my ear.
"Who?"
"The boy who moved in across the street, Saul. We've been talking and I've been showing him the area."
"Oh, his name's Saul?"
"Yep."
"Did his parents hate him?"
I could practically picture Paige scowling at that remark. "Don't make fun, Miss Chloe with a Y."
"Touché," I replied. "So, what's he like?"
Paige went on to tell me all about Saul. He and his family moved from out of state, and he was going to the same college Paige had gotten into. She even mentioned that he liked a few of Tripp's songs. If Saul weren't a personal gift from heaven for Paige, then it was just pure luck that such a guy had landed in her lap.
Though, I couldn't help but feel left out. They were practically hitting it off on some romantic level possibly and that would leave me out, an unwanted third wheel. There were only so many weeks left of the summer before Paige went off to school. She wouldn't be staying home, opting to live in a dorm to "get the complete college experience" and soon, she'd be off, moving on with her life, without me.
I ended our call feeling suddenly melancholy. Maybe I was overthinking and being selfish. Paige deserved this, just like I deserved the adventure I was on.
Instead of dwelling on it, I forced myself out of the room and down to the kitchen where chaos was happening.
Mick and Tripp were practically running around, phones in their hands along with coffee, and what looked like scripts.
I grabbed a seat at the island, deciding to watch the show.
"Where the hell is Gavin?" Tripp demanded to know as he paced in front of the stove, phone glued to his ear.
Sunday evening Gavin had left to go hang out with Molly, the waitress, and we hadn't seen him since. It was safe to say that they'd obviously hit it off.
