Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1) (18 page)

Now, he is propped up on his elbow, laying on his right side with his whole body facing me. I can see the many shades of green in his eyes, as they flicker in the moonlight. He is staring at me so intensely, it feels like his gaze is actually piercing through me, right into my soul.

I don't know exactly how to respond. I think about what he just said, and realize that the words alone by themselves, if written down on a piece of paper with no context, mean very little. Looking into those eyes, and hearing the way he half whispers them, while his eyes tell the rest of the story, makes them almost surreal.

I feel like right now, we are having another moment, and it makes me feel so many things I know I shouldn't be. I am excited, engaged, and alive, but I am also utterly confused. I feel guilty and ashamed for having these feelings in the first place. It's a very strange and complicated mess of emotions. I have no idea how to handle any of it. I down the rest of my wine, hoping that the rushing, burgundy liquid will wash it all away.

Trevor holds the wine bottle above my glass. It is his silent offering for more, but he doesn't pour until I nod. He hands me the half-full glass, and inches his body closer to me. Every once in a while, a light breeze carries the scent of his cologne to me.

I sip my wine as he stares at me. His eyes seem to be begging me for something, but I don't know what he wants. I wish he would just come out and say it, whatever it is. I have to look away because I'm having a hard time breathing, while looking into those dangerous, green eyes.

"So, do you like Avery?" I ask casually, hoping his answer will help clarify the emotions swirling around in my head.

"I
do?
" He says it more like a question than an answer. I sense there is a huge
but
at the end, that he is not telling me about.

"You do,
but
. . . ." I try to help him along.

"I do,
but
it's complicated." He looks away from me, as he says this.

"Why is it complicated? Do you already have a girlfriend or something?"

I want to ask him about the brown-eyed beauty from his Facebook page, but I don't. The last thing I want him to know is how I have already completely stalked him, especially since it was so soon after accepting his friend request.

"It's definitely not because I have a girlfriend. It's more like the
or something
. . . ." He repeats my words, but he is being so cryptic.  I don't know how to make sense of anything he’s saying.

"What does
that
mean?" I think the wine is making me bolder than I would be without it.

Trevor closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lies on his back again. He reaches up and tucks his arms behind his head, causing the hem of his shirt to lift just enough to show a sliver of bare skin. I can see the outline of his stomach muscles moving up and down through his shirt, as he breathes. My heart is wild, as this strange anticipation creeps into my system.  Now, my breathing seems to be somewhat labored.
Why am I so nervous?

"Avery is beautiful, smart, funny, and a whole lot of fun to be with,
but
. . . ." his voice trails off.

There is that cryptic word again
. I wish he would just finish his sentence. Trying to fill in the blanks for Trevor is damned near impossible. Attempting to read him is like flipping through a book full of empty pages.

I decide to set my glass down, and lay back on the blanket next to him. The sky is finally dark enough that the stars are peeking out. I remove Kyle's baseball cap and toss it to the side, so I can get a better view. Trevor is still staring up at the sky, now with this lost expression on his face.

"But
what
, Trevor?
What
is holding you back?" I ask sharply. He doesn't answer me, or say anything. "I think she really likes you," I add.

"Yeah. I like her, too, but I can't help but feel . . . something for this
other
girl, too. It's not even something I
want
to feel necessarily. It's just
there
, and it happened so quickly." He puffs up his cheeks, and lets the air out in one gust, as if he is gathering enough courage to say something. "It's so . . .
strong
, that I don't know what to do about it."

My heart begins racing, as I feel the panic rising in my throat.
Surely he isn't talking about you, Laila. Don't be ridiculous.
It has to be some other girl.
Some other girl that I'd like to punch right about now
.

"Well, I know
one
thing you could do, and that is to
stop
messing around with my best friend. If you have feelings for this
other
girl, you shouldn't get yourself mixed up with Avery. It's not fair to her." I know I have far more tone in my voice than I should, but I can't help it.

It sounds like he is just using Avery, when he obviously has feelings for this
other
girl. If I'm being completely honest with myself, though, that isn't the real reason I am getting so upset with him. The idea that Trevor likes some other mystery girl is what is
really
bothering me. I know it's not fair for me to feel this way.
Not when I have Sam
.

Part of me wonders if Trevor isn't just a huge player. He is definitely the master at sending girls mixed signals. I think back about this whole weekend. He's in my face flirting with me, and trying to block my chance to kiss another guy at my party half of the time. Then, he spends the other half of it flirting with my best friend shamelessly. He made her believe that he is really into her, all while knowing in the back of his mind that he may actually like someone else. He takes Avery out on a real date last night, and yet here he is with me, on this non-
date
, date tonight. No matter which way you look at it, this is all just so screwed up. It's just how things are when you get yourself involved with a player.

"You're right." That is all he says. I can tell he is once again, staring at me as he says it.

I can almost
feel
his gaze, as if it is a hot laser cutting deep into my skin, leaving my whole body burning with need. I refuse to look at him, though. I don't want to get lost in those green eyes again. Instead, I want to stay mad at him. I need to remain hard and in control. It's easier that way with him, because that is when I know exactly where the line between our friendship and that
something else
is. That is when I know exactly how to keep my feet firmly planted on the right side of it, too.

It's those other times, when Trevor hypnotizes me with those deep and soulful eyes that everything gets swept up into a furious windstorm in my mind. That is when it is hard not only to see the line, but it's almost impossible to know which side I am even standing on.

The truth is, my feet are never securely anchored to one side over the other with him. At any moment, a tornado could easily sweep me up, and carry me back over to the other side quickly, and without warning.

"Hey, don't be
mad
at me. I'm just trying to figure some stuff out, ok? I am trying
not
to lead Avery on. I
swear
to you. I haven't even kissed her, Laila." Trevor reaches his hand over to grasp mine in his, as he says this.

His touch immediately awakens the millions of tiny butterflies that have been resting nervously in my stomach. I want to believe everything he is saying. I know he isn't lying about not kissing Avery because she already told me this earlier today, but I am still worried about this
other
girl. As absurd as it is, part of me secretly wishes it were me he is hung up on. I'm concerned about letting myself fall for a guy that I have no business getting caught up with. I'm also afraid of screwing up the best thing that has ever happened to me, actually the two best things.

I squeeze his hand, to let him know that I'm not angry with him anymore. He gently rubs the pad of his thumb across the top of my hand. I once again, wonder if this action can be safely categorized in the
friend-only zone
. I'm pretty sure it can't, but I lie to myself anyway. I pretend that it
can
, and that it
is
. It's kind of like this non-
date
, date that we are currently on, or how it felt when Trevor's arms were wrapped around me in the coat closet, and when I was stuck in the mud.

Right now, my body is floating amidst a funnel of emotions furiously swirling around me. Flying shrapnel and debris is everywhere, clouding my vision, and making my heart fly recklessly in every direction. At some point, someone is going to get seriously hurt by all of it. I just wish I knew how to make the tornados go away before that happens. I want more than anything to plant my feet firmly on the ground, and stay as far away from that damned line as I possibly can.

Chapter Fifteen:
Out of the Dead Zone
 

Trevor drops me off a little after ten. It is a strange drive home because we barely speak. This is not because we are fighting or anything. It is just that we already said what we wanted to say, and now, there just doesn't seem to be much else for us to talk about. One of the things I really like about Trevor is that we can do that without things getting awkward. We just listen to his Dave Matthews playlist, and watch the tree-lined gravel road disappear.

When we turn back on the main road, I feel like we have left something special behind, and it makes my heart ache a little. It's like Trevor's secret hide-away was our own little haven where we could say or do anything. There were no rules. I had allowed myself to feel things there that I normally would keep bottled up.

When the road is no longer bumpy, we are greeted with flashes of multiple headlights scanning the windshield, like a mob of cops with spotlights trying to break up a riot. Between that and the insistent beeps and dings from our phones, reminding us that we are no longer in a dead zone, we know that what happened back there is now over. We are back to civilization, our lives at home, and everything that goes with it.

Despite all of that, we both ignore our phones the whole way home. I suppose he does this because he is driving, but I’m ignoring mine for other reasons.

When we pull up to my house, I thank him quickly and scurry out of his car. He simply nods while a faint smile sneaks onto his face. I am not sure what it means because instead of making my butterflies dance like his smiles usually do, it makes my feet unsteady and my stomach uneasy.

I close the front door and peek out the side window. Trevor sits there for a moment, making me wonder why he isn't pulling away. It's almost like he wants to say something else to me. After a few minutes though, he shakes his head as if he is just waking up from a dream, and finally backs his car out of the driveway.

"Laila, did you guys have fun? What did you do?" My mom is looking at me strangely.
What is that about?

"It was fun. We went on a picnic."

Her eyes fall down to my mud-caked shoes with horror.

"Sorry. I had to track through some mud to get there." She disappears for a minute.  When she returns, she is holding a plastic bag and some towels.

"So, where did you guys go?" she asks, as she spreads one of the towels out on top of the rug. I carefully slip off my dirty shoes, and step onto the towel. She hands me a wet rag, so I can clean up my feet.

"It was this really cool, kind of secluded little place by a natural spring. It was on his uncle's property. We watched the sun set, ate dinner, and just talked."

She is looking at me with that same silly grin on her face, but I decide to ignore it.

"Mom, it was
so
beautiful. I've never seen water so clear. Oh, and the stars at night? It seemed like there were a million of them out there. We
never
get to see the stars like that here. It was really cool."

Mom carefully slips my muddy shoes into the plastic bag, and pauses with a frown on her face. Her eyebrows finally relax, and she smiles in that familiar, motherly way, which is a big relief. For a moment there, I was really worried that she had somehow found out about Sam.

"That sounds
really
great, honey. You know, Trevor is a
very
nice boy. I like him." Her eyebrows are doing that thing where they arch up, as if she means to say something else.

"Yeah. He is," I say casually, trying to shrug off her suggestive look.

"He comes from a
good
family, and I could be wrong, but I think he likes you too, Laila." The way she says this makes my stomach uneasy.

"No, Mom. We are
just
friends. He went on a date with Avery yesterday, and he may even like some
other
girl. He
definitely
doesn't like
me
." I am trying my best to convince her, but she is smiling at me, and shaking her head in that way that says, "You don't know what you are talking about."

I hate when she looks at me like that.

"Okay, honey. Maybe, my radar is a little off. I guess it’s possible, but I don't know. I'm usually pretty perceptive when it comes to these things."

I look at her doubtfully. She sure hasn't picked up on the fact that Sam likes me. She holds out her hand, and waits for me to pass her my filthy rags.

"Thanks," I mutter. She nods.

"Well anyway, I'm glad you had a good time. So, I've been meaning to ask you. Did you get to meet the girl that Kyle had at the party on Friday?”

"Georgia?" I ask, curious to find out what Mom knows about her. I follow her into the kitchen. She sets the bag with the ball of dirty rags down on the counter.

"Is that her name?" she asks with hopeful eyes.

I simply nod.

"He didn't even introduce us. It was like he was
purposely
avoiding me all night. Do you know if they are dating?" Her eyes light up, and she leans over the counter on her elbows in a way that looks like she is expecting a big reveal.

I sigh, and plop down onto one of the bar stools. She knows less than I do, but I can't tell her what Sam told me. I'm not even supposed to know that much. If it weren't for our recent status change, I would be in the dark as much, if not
more
than my mother is.

"I just overheard Sam and Kyle talking. The name Georgia came up, but I really don't know much else about her."

It's not a total lie. I really don't know much, which is frustrating. I wish Kyle would talk to me about her. Mom's excitement and her eager smile quickly dissolve. In its place is a half pout.

"It would be nice to see him settle down with
one
girl, you know. He's not a seventeen-year-old boy anymore. These wild fraternity days are going to end before he knows it, and all of his friends will start getting married. He needs to understand what it means to be in a committed relationship."

And now, we are in mom-lecture-mode
. It's not as bad when she isn't lecturing me, but I still feel compelled to defend Kyle.

"Maybe he’s keeping Georgia to himself because he doesn't want you doing
this
, Mom. He
hates
when you start lecturing him about his dating life." My tone seems to contain more sarcasm than I had planned to reveal. I really need to work on that. For some reason, my mother manages to bring out the worst side of me.

"You are too young to understand right now, but some day, what I am saying will make perfect sense to you, Laila. I
love
your brother very much, and I want what's best for him. I'm sorry if it is intrusive for me to say so, but he
needs
to grow up a little. This party after party lifestyle of his is
not
what it's like to be an adult."

I roll my eyes and sigh.
No wonder Kyle avoids Mom. This is brutal
.

"All I am saying is that I think having a steady girlfriend would be a good thing for him."

"Well, he isn't here to hear it, and he doesn't bother to tell me
anything
. So, I wouldn't waste your breath on
me
. It's just not worth it."

My mom is glaring at me with her arms crossed over her chest.
I really don't feel like getting into it with her, especially not over stupid Kyle
.

I stand up and turn towards the staircase. "Look, Mom. I'm really tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed."

Mom's eyes soften, before she sighs. "Yeah, me too." She smiles and squeezes my shoulder gently.

"Hey, don't forget to take your clean laundry up with you."

I am already almost half way up the stairs when she says this. I begrudgingly stomp down the stairs, and take a quick detour to pick up my laundry basket. I guess I should be grateful that my mother still does all of my laundry. Avery started washing her own clothes at age fifteen. I figure I have my whole life ahead of me to do my own laundry.
I might as well enjoy this luxury while it lasts.

Once I'm in my room, I dig my phone out of my purse. I am dreading the potential messages waiting for me. I recall how Sam and I were busy texting each other back and forth, when I just up and quit responding, right in the middle of our conversation. It also happened to be right after Sam asked me if Trevor and I were alone.

This is not a conversation I want to have, because even though Trevor and I weren't on a real date, it sort of felt like one. In fact, aside from the kissing and making out with Sam in the car on our way home part, my evening with Trevor felt more like a date than my afternoon with Sam did.

I take a deep breath and slowly slide the bar on my phone to unlock it. I have three new text messages and three missed calls.
Shoot.

Harry: You still there, Laila?

Harry: I never did hear back from you. I hope everything is ok. Give me a call later when you get a chance, ok? I miss you. :)

Harry: Going out with the guys. Hope you guys are having fun. Not too much fun, though. Save that for your boyfriend, ok? :)

My stomach drops after reading this one.
Did I have too much fun with Trevor?

Harry: I wonder if my texts are going through. I'm just going to call you.

The messages were mostly spread throughout the evening. I feel terrible for leaving him hanging like that. I know this girlfriend stuff is kind of new for me, but I don't think I'm off to a particularly good start here. I pull up his fake name from my favorites list and hit send. I feel that overwhelming sense of dread intensify with each ring. Finally, his voicemail picks up.

“Hey you. It's me, your girlfriend. I'm
really
sorry I haven't called. We ended up driving into a dead zone for most of the evening. I didn't get all of your texts until we drove back. Anyway, I hope you're having fun. I guess I'll just talk to you tomorrow. I miss you, too. Good night.”

I can't decide if I am more relieved to have temporarily escaped a real conversation with him, or if I am a little annoyed that he isn't answering. I know I have no right to be annoyed, especially after ignoring his texts and messages on the way home. This reminds me that I never did listen to my voicemail. I have two messages waiting for me. Two of the three missed calls were from Sam. One voicemail is from him, and the other one is from Avery.

“Hi little hottie. I think your phone is broken, or maybe it's just your texting, or maybe it's even mine? Anyway, I just wanted to hear your voice before bed. Call me.”

I couldn't help but notice how his voice was slurring a little, and there were definitely people in the background. It wasn't just people. I definitely heard girls, laughing loudly and carrying on.
Was he at a bar or a party?
I have no business getting jealous, but I am. I remember how Trevor and I were lying next to each other, holding hands, and my stomach lurches.
Why am I so confused right now?

I select the next message, turn my speakerphone on, and set it down on my bed, as I slip my pajamas on. The sound of Avery's voice echoing through the speaker causes a lump to form in my throat.

"Hey little lady. Did you guys have fun tonight? We planned our visit to the Keystone Retirement Village in the fall at tonight's meeting. I think you should come with. We could use some extra hands. I'll probably see if Trevor wants to volunteer, too. We are going to play games, and put on a little skit with silly dancing and singing. It'll mostly be ad-libbed, and you would totally rock it on stage. You could even sing, if you want. They would love that, Lays. Well, call me later, okay?"

Singing on stage in front of just about anyone would be fine, but the idea of singing in front of Trevor suddenly scares the crap out of me.
Why should I be nervous in front of him? We're just friends. If I can sing in front of hundreds of students at school, singing in front of one of my friends should be a snap. Sam even saw me in my first musical my freshman year. Would I be nervous if I had to sing in front of him now?

I better shoot Sam a quick text in case he didn't hear his phone ring.

Me: Hi. I tried calling, but I got your VM. Sorry I missed your texts and calls. There was no service out where we were. Call me when you get home if you want to talk tonight. Otherwise, we can catch up tomorrow. I miss you, too! :)

I also send Avery a quick text, to let her know I'd help with her talent show at the retirement home, and that I will call her back tomorrow. I'm way too tired to talk tonight. Plus, I'm not so sure I want to talk about Trevor. I don't know how I'm going to get her to stop liking him, but I need to figure something out, before he breaks her heart.