Why Now? (8 page)

Real mature, Kacey. Exactly the type of behavior a balanced twenty-eight-year-old woman would show. God, I climbed over their gate, scratching the crap out of my arm and probably flashing Jake my ass as I did it.

Moving far, far, away is an option at this point. Along with dying my hair and maybe undergoing some serious plastic surgery.

When I get home, I head straight for my bathroom to wash the angry scratch on the inside of my arm and smooth some antibiotic cream on it.

Once all threat of death via scary flesh eating virus is abated, I steel my nerves and check my phone. Not long after my getaway, it started dinging in my purse.

Unlocking my screen, I’m not surprised to see a handful of texts and missed calls from Reilly. What did surprise me was the text and missed called from Heath.

Shit.

Quickly, my eyes scan Reilly’s texts first. The first one asked me what happened, the second why I left, the third told me to come back, the forth said she didn’t know I’d be upset over Jake seeing the clips, and the fifth said she was sorry.

Apparently, Jake filled her in between the first and fifth texts as to why I freaked out.

Why did I freak out? Is it really so bad Jake saw those videos?

Now, standing in my bathroom with a gunked up arm, I realize I may have overreacted a bit.

There were only a few videos I’d die of embarrassment over Jake seeing and there’s no way Reilly would have sent him any of those. Inhaling a long, calming breath, I hoped that she wouldn’t anyways.

It would be later, not over a text message or a phone call that I would ask her exactly which ones she sent. Her voicemail was a string of apologies saying that she only wanted Jake to see her and didn’t think it would piss me off. Tapping out a reply, I told her I was home and needed an hour or so to cool off.

Heath’s text message was next; all it said was
hey are you okay?

One thing I like about Heath is he doesn’t abbreviate words over text, typing out okay instead of ok. His voicemail let me know he was heading over to Reilly’s grandparent’s house to pick up both Reilly and Jake since I had been their ride and ditched them. He also told me that he was dropping Reilly off and taking Jake back to his place, but they would both be back over later to hang out. He wanted to know if I wanted to cancel the get-together we planned at the pizza place and lastly, he wanted to know if I needed to talk, if I was okay.

Shit.

I didn’t even think about leaving them there when I took off. Granted, it’s Ferncliff and not a giant metropolis but it would still be a long walk. It was an asshole thing to do.

All I had been thinking of was getting away. There are some people incapable of embarrassment.

Case in point, Reilly. Nothing embarrassed her. I wished I could be like her; so confident, so unruffled by whatever came at her.

Her composure was a thing of beauty; her snappy comebacks were lightning fast.

My fingers moving over the screen of my phone, I reply to Heath’s text.
I’m so sorry you had to go get them. I was being silly. I’m fine.

His response is immediate;
did Jake upset you?

My eyes close, the weight of my shame shutting them. Heath was such a good guy. A good guy whose grandmother’s ring was on my finger. My eyes open. For a few long moments
,
I stare blankly ahead. Once my vision clears, I reply,
he didn’t do anything.

Holding my phone I wait for his reply, only it never comes.

A couple minutes later, when Reilly rushes into our apartment.

“I’m so sorry, Kacey,” she says, the moment her eyes meet mine.

Whether I’m ready for it or not, I’m engulfed in a hug.

“Please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t be mad at me,” she pleads over and over, still hugging me.

“You know I can’t stay mad at you,” I reply, pushing her away. “I need to know which videos you sent him, though, so I can decide exactly how long I’m going to be pissed.”

Taking my hand, she pulls me to her room, where her laptop is. Patiently, I wait while she searches her email history for every message she’s ever sent Jake.

“Don’t forget, I sent him these eons ago. You can even check the date stamps,” she says, passing me her laptop.

I settle down next to her on her bed and look at the list of emails in front of me.

“The one’s with the little paperclips are the ones with videos or pics, and look, there aren’t that many.”

Of the listing of sent emails, there are ten or so with paperclips. I click on the first one and see it’s a picture of Reilly and me sitting on her bed in our dorm room.

Reilly, as usual, looks beautiful. I, on the other hand, look like a gigantic dork.

My mouth drops before I ask, “Why’d you send him this picture? I look terrible in it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up. You look great.”

Mentally, I disagree; I don’t say anything though because I’m busy clicking on the next file with a paperclip. It’s a video. Clicking to open it, I press play. It’s silly but not mortifyingly so. I move to the next one. It’s another picture, this time of just Reilly. The next is another video. Again, I open it and press play. It’s not a big deal. I repeat this process for the next four emails, getting more relaxed with each one.

Until I open the fifth and press play to watch the video I would never ever want Jake Whitmore to see in a million years.

“Can I borrow your laptop?” I ask once we’re back at Heath’s place.

“Sure,” Heath replies, nodding his head in the direction of his sofa.

His laptop is sitting on the center cushion of it. Ever since Kacey freaked the fuck out, I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out why the videos Reilly sent me would set her off.

I’ve never seen her like that. God, when she looked at me with tears in her eyes, it knocked the wind out of me.

“Want a beer?” Heath asks from the kitchen.

“Sure,” I reply, pulling up my email account.

Moving the cursor to the search field I run one for all the emails Reilly has ever sent me.

A bottle comes into view and distractedly I reach up for it. “Thanks.”

Heath sits down next to me, his eyes on the computer screen. “You good?”

A crap load of emails pull up and I turn my head to look at him. “Kacey flipped when I told her Reilly sent me some videos they made.”

His brows pinch together. “What kind of videos?”

Taking a drink before setting my beer on a side table I reply, “Videos where Reilly would pretend to be interviewing Kacey. All practice stuff to get ready for the real thing.”

“Why would she flip out about that?”

Opening the first email, I mutter, “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

There isn’t a video in this one and after looking at the date she sent it, I scroll further down the page to older emails.

“Wait,” Heath mumbles and I look back over to him.

“What?”

“I don’t think you should look for the videos.”

I blink. “I want to find out what made her so upset.”

“Yeah, but if it was something that embarrassed her? It will only embarrass her more if you see it again.”

He has a point. “But, she’s already embarrassed and knows I’ve seen it. What difference will it make seeing it again?” I argue.

“You can tell her that you don’t remember any of them or you don’t remember any that she should be embarrassed about.”

Shaking my head I say, “That won’t work. She knows I remember some of the videos. That’s when she freaked.”

He stands and walks to his bedroom. “I still don’t think you should look for it but you’re going do what you want anyway. I’m not going to try and talk you out of it.” He reaches up to tug at the collar of his dress shirt. “I’m going to change.”

Turning back to the screen I open the next email and see it’s a video. Another click to open the video file and one more to press play.

Kacey is standing front and center, the angle of the video camera bouncing up and down while someone, probably Reils focuses it on her. This video is about five years old taken around the time Reilly started interning at the station.

The footage stops jumping and Kacey comes fully into focus. Man, I forgot what she looked like with her glasses. They make her look so young, like a kid playing dress up with stuff that didn’t fit.

She was cute. Even though she had to have been around twenty-two or twenty-three in this video, she could have passed for a teenager.

“Okay, ready to go?” Reilly asks, coming to stand next to her, holding a hairbrush as her microphone.

Holding back a laugh I watch as Kacey eyes the hairbrush with what can only be described as defeat. I wonder how often Reilly roped her into making these videos.

Resignedly, Kacey replies, “Ready.”

“Good, okay now look towards the camera and smile. I’m going to pretend like the station has gone to me and then I’ll introduce you and interview you.”

Kacey nods and then turns to face the camera full on, a weak smile on her face. Reilly holds up her hairbrush and gives the camera a wide smile.

“And now to our field reporter, Reilly Whitmore.” Another beaming grin. “Thanks, Tad. Hello, I’m Reilly Whitmore here with Kacey Albright. Ms. Albright is here to tell us about the recent outbreak of STDs amongst high school students.”

Reilly shifts her hairbrush to a horrified looking Kacey, who replies, “What?”

Reilly raises her eyebrows and whispers loud enough for the camera to hear, “Just go with it.”

Kacey glares at her before replying, “Yes, awful STDs all over the place.”

“What do you think is the root of this recent outbreak?” Reilly asks, with complete seriousness.

Kacey tilts her head to the side, closing her eyes, making Reilly lose her cool for a moment, stomping her foot and saying “Come on, Kace.”

Kacey’s eyes pop open and she stares straight into the camera. “I believe sex is the cause of STDs, Ms. Whitmore.”

Reilly nods as though that is earth-shattering information before following up with, “And why do you think these high school students are having sex?”

Kacey pushes the hairbrush away. “Why does this interview have to be about sex?”

Reilly shrugs. “A report came out and they did an interview about it at the station today. I got to watch and still remember some of the questions Denise asked the county health rep.”

“Okay, but you get that I know nada about sex or why people have sex,” Kacey grumbles.

What?

Reilly shoves her shoulder. “Shut up. Just because you haven’t done it doesn’t mean you know nothing about it. Don’t tell me nothing from health class sunk in. Besides, we swap paperbacks. I know you know all about bumping uglies.”

Kacey curls her lip. “Ew. Don’t call it that.”

Reilly rolls her eyes. “You have this over romanticized idea of it. Trust me, it’s no big deal.”

Grabbing my beer from the table, I frown at Reilly’s words, hoping my kid sister doesn’t feel that way, and if she does, I wonder what happened to cause those feelings.

Taking a gulp I miss what Kacey says, so after setting my beer back down I have to rewind. Unfortunately, it means I hear Reilly’s disturbing remarks again. The thought of her being so casual about sex makes me cringe. From the video, it seems it bothers Kacey as well when she says, “Troy was a jerk. You know you don’t really feel that way. Before he dicked you over you believed in true love just as much as I do. You know that’s why I’m saving myself for Jake.”

I blink. Kacey’s what?

“I seriously don’t get why you like Jake so much,” Reilly huffs, dropping her hairbrush mic to her side.

I laugh to myself. All of Ferncliff loved me but my little sister only saw me as her annoying big brother. In her defense, I was a hard act to follow.

“He is kind and generous; just look how he helped to pay for college for you. He’s smart and strong and so incredibly hot—“

“My ears, my ears,” Reilly moans. “That’s my brother you’re talking about.”

Kacey crosses her arms over her chest. “I have to listen to you talk about every single guy you’ve ever liked.”

“Yes, but you weren’t related to any of them,” Reilly fires back.

They both glare at each other until Reilly huffs, tossing her hairbrush off camera and moves forward to stop the video.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Heath asks, walking back into his living room, now in a pair of jeans and tee shirt.

My finger moves over the touchpad, closing Reilly’s email before I log out and then close his laptop with a snap.

“Nope,” I reply.

Heath had to have heard the video playing from his room based on the unconvinced look he gives me.

He doesn’t push it though and asks, “You changing before we go?”

Glancing down at myself, I frown at his question. “Something wrong with what I got on?”

“Forget I asked,” he grumbles as I stand.

“Ready to go?” He asks, moving toward the door.

When he isn’t looking, I sniff my pits to make sure my deodorant didn’t wear off or something. Nope, still smell like some mystical foreign water spring.