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When George Shaw tries to find a plan for the last fifteen days to spend with his best friend, who he's had a crush on for as long as he can remember, all he needs is a map to plot out a road trip and his daily h...
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IN THE MORNING, EVERYTHING WAS QUIET.
Since I couldn't sleep properly all night, it was no surprise that I was up at six. I usually couldn't sleep well anywhere but my own bed. That was a habit that stuck with me over the years, so traveling always brought insomnia along.
My heart was aching. Pounding against my chest, it was slowly climbing up my throat, but eventually, it suffocated me. My eyes were dry as if I'd cried liters of tears. My body was no different: every inch of me was aching as if a dozen people had punched me. On top of this massive ache, I was also having a nicotine crisis draining my brain.
Roy was still snoring in his bed, and I assumed the girls would also be asleep, so I decided to climb up to the roof of the hotel to smoke. This way, at least I could calm one of the nerves. Pulling my jeans and t-shirt on, I grabbed a package of cigarettes and the key and tiptoed my way out of the room.
Outside, the weather was colder since the Sun hadn't warmed up the day yet. Lighting a cig, I sat across the dull scenery of the hotel. Though the scenery wasn't fascinating, the Sun itself was, rising behind the buildings. It reminded me that yesterday was over and I should be focusing on today. Now. Whatever had upset me was over now, and I needed to act and find a new strategy. I couldn't wallow for the rest of my life, though it was what I really wanted.
The first step was to get over Abby. Literally. She was my best friend. I needed to fathom this and act accordingly. There was no point in lurking around like a jealous boyfriend all the time.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
However, there was a tiny problem. I couldn't wrap my head around Abby's altering behavior. There were literally two Abbys: one that cared about me and one that was indifferent. Last evening was the proof of her contradiction. After she'd told me that she hated Roy's bossing attitude, she went into his arms.
I ran a hand through my hair. Yes, girls were confusing but I knew Abby all my life and she'd never been this confusing before. She was pulling me whenever she wanted and pushed me back to square one next. I wish I liked Rachel—things would be much simpler then. She was dying to tell me that she liked me and I had no idea how to react when she finally told me.
All I knew was that I had to forget Abby. For the sake of my sanity.
When I was drowning in my thoughts, my cigarette was nearing the end. My patience was burning out like this cigarette, getting smaller gradually. I wanted to get rid of this situation in the least damaging way possible, both for Abby and me. First, I needed to stop hating Roy. He was my friend, and he was dating Abby now. I had to support them, right?
You can do this, George. If you pretend hard enough, it will become the truth.
The rest of the morning went in a blur after I'd returned to our room. We immediately packed our stuff once everyone was awake and left the hotel to set off to Texas. It was Abby's turn to drive, and Roy naturally called shotgun, leaving me in the backseat with Rachel again. Today she was quiet, and I didn't dare question the reason.
