Dirty Toe Drag (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 6)

The crazy thing is, I already feel like Wes and I do that for each other. Sometimes, I worry I do it more, but then it seems he needs it more, and I’m okay with that. I don’t feel this is one-sided; I think both of us are there for the other. But I worry about the space when he leaves.

How could I not? And I wonder if Wes is worried too?

As I head to my car, I dial Lake’s number. He answers almost immediately. “Oh wow. It’s my so-called best friend.”

I laugh. “Stop. You know I’ve been super busy. Unlike you, I actually text back.”

His laughter isn’t as carefree as it usually is. It feels forced as he says, “Whatever. You got a new boyfriend, and no one else matters. Not that I blame you. He is scrumptious.”

“That he is, but I juggle everything pretty well. What has your feather boa in a knot?”

“Actually, glad you asked,” he says, his voice a little crisper than usual, and it worries me.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, Stella.” I stop before I reach my car, striking my hand to my hip. “I went to register for summer session classes.” Fucking hell. I cover my face. I should have known this was coming. “Since we always take the same classes, I asked for your schedule for summer, and they told me they didn’t have one for you, but instead, that you’d put in the paperwork to not return.”

“Lake—”

“What the fuck, Stella? You told me you registered for your classes.”

I swallow hard. “I know I did, but that was before I decided to be done at the end of the semester.”

“Be done!” he roars, his voice squeaking at the end. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Lake, I really wanted to do this in person.”

“Too late, sweetheart. Here we are. Own up to your betrayal.”

“Wow, that’s dramatic,” I accuse, shaking my head. “It’s not betrayal. I want to do something else with my life, Lake. I don’t want to be in fashion.”

“When the hell did you decide this? We’ve had a plan!”

“I know. Things have changed.”

“When? When Wes came along? Are you changing for some guy?”

“Hell no. I’ve felt like this for a long time. I just wasn’t sure what I wanted.”

He lets out a long, frustrated breath. “This is bullshit. You’re leaving me high and dry.”

“You don’t need me,” I try, but he isn’t having it.

“Whatever, Stella. I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

“It’s not about you. It’s about me. I wanted to do this in person—”

“We’re supposed to be best friends, and you’ve left me out of the loop and betrayed me.”

“Lake, we are, and I’m sorry you feel that way. But I didn’t leave you out of the loop. I’ve been busy. I work two jobs, I go to school, and I have a boyfriend now. I wanted to sit down and tell you what was going on, but I haven’t found the time. I’m sorry you found out like this—”

“Yup. Like I said, giving up everything for him. Have a great life, Stella.”

When the phone goes dead, I stand there, flabbergasted. Tears burn my eyes as I look around the parking lot, completely and utterly stunned. What an asshole. Lake is a lot of things—dramatic being at the top—but he isn’t cruel or hateful. At least, not to me. But then, maybe he is. I don’t know, but my heart hurts. More so that he didn’t even ask what I was doing since I was withdrawing from school. It’s as if Lake doesn’t care, and that hurts more than I can admit.

And it also scares me.

Because what if my family acts the same?

* * *

I took a little extra time getting to Wes because I sat in my car and cried a bit longer than I should have, but I had to get it out. I’m upset Lake acted like that, but I think my crying was from fear. It freaks me out, and I hate that I’m allowing it to. I was slowly but surely building the confidence to tell everyone, but now, it’s all shot to hell. Which reminds me, I need to text my mom that I’m not coming home tonight. I send her a quick text as I knock on the door to see if Wes is home. I don’t see his truck, but maybe it’s in the garage. When he doesn’t answer, I reach into the mail slot to the bottom, where Wes had said the extra key was. I’m surprised I beat him here.

As I unlock the door, my phone rings, and I answer without needing to look.

It’s my mom.

“Hey, Mom.”

I open the door as she says, “Hey, honey. You’ll be home tomorrow to help with setup for everything, right?”

“Yes, Mom. I took off from school, remember?”