Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1) (41 page)

"Well, I'd love a running buddy, if you ever feel like driving out of your way to go for a run," she offers.

"I might just take you up on that offer, Georgia. Thanks."

I have a feeling that I might be doing a whole lot of running in the near future. My eyes sneak another quick peek at Trevor. I'm definitely going to need to find a more healthy
distraction.

I close my eyes, allowing the nausea to seep back into my stomach. All of a sudden, memories of Sam and our recent breakup come flooding back. I decide to take a quick breather and excuse myself. I need to take some more Tylenol. My dull headache is trying to creep back into my head.

Chapter Twenty-Six:
Do You Really Want to Win Like That?
 

I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, holding two white, oblong pills in my left hand, and a warm bottle of water in my right hand. My eyes are focused on my nightstand, though. More specifically, they are fixed on the small white envelope that is glaring back at me. I'm not a hundred percent sure why I haven't read his letter yet. Sam seemed so anxious for me to read it this morning, and yet there it still is, sitting in the exact same place I left it yesterday.

I keep reminding myself that he
wants
me to read it. That must mean it isn't
all
bad, right? Even so, I don't believe it myself, and judging by the way my stomach is all torn up, my body must agree.

I drop the pills into my mouth and knock back the bottle. I allow the liquid to trickle down my throat, praying it will nudge those giant pills along. I don't know why, but it seems like the little tablets grow to be about five times their normal size once they are on my tongue. Even worse, it feels like my throat starts closing up at the same time, making it damned near impossible to fully swallow the stubborn things. It makes pill popping of any kind an ordeal for me. I guess Mom and Dad will never have to worry about me being one of those kids that becomes addicted to pain pills.

I pick up the sealed envelope and run my index finger over my name
. What is it you want to say, Sam? Why am I so afraid to read this?
A glimmer of hope prickles through me briefly, as I recall my earlier conversation with Trevor. He was wondering if the letter might be Sam's way of asking me to get back together with him. At the time, I had quickly dismissed the idea. However, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if Trevor wasn't right all along.
What if Sam just wants to get back together?
One thing is for certain.
I'm never going to know for sure, until I read the letter
.

"Laila, What are you doing up here, honey? Everyone is downstairs by the pool." My mom's warm voice startles me, causing me to drop the envelope.

As if it were in slow motion, my mother and I watch it bounce off the edge of my bed and fall onto the ground. I immediately reach for it in a panic, but my mom retrieves it before I can. She looks at it curiously, before handing it back to me. Her one eyebrow is doing its signature St. Louis Arch thing, which makes me squirm a little. Much to my relief, she doesn't ask me about it.

"Dad is barbecuing, and we're going to be ready to eat soon. I could use a little help making the salad and getting the bar set up outside."

I nod, still too unnerved to even speak. She smiles and kisses the top of my head like I'm five years old, before leaving.
Why does my family still insist on treating me like a child?

My heart is racing, and I am clutching the envelope so tightly to my chest, it is starting to bend a little on the side where my fingers are. I try to smooth it out a little, before dropping it into my swim bag. I'll have to find some time later to sneak off and read it. I roll up a fresh towel and throw it, along with a magazine, into the bag, before making my way back downstairs.

The day slips by fairly quickly, despite the dismal blanket of doom that is hovering over me like a thick fog at sunrise. The only time it seems to dissipate is when Trevor and I are together. It's not that we can't be around each other. We just can't be left alone.

After lunch, Mom insists we wait a full thirty minutes before swimming again, even though I show her on my iPhone that it is perfectly safe. "Mom, it says right
here
that your theory is just a dated myth that no longer applies," I say, while holding the screen up so she can see it. When my dad gives me the look, I drop it.

Instead, we decide to play charades in order to pass the time. The teams are Mr. Maddox, Dad, Kyle, and Georgia against Mrs. Maddox, Mom, Trevor, and me. It turns out that Trevor and I are quite the pair. He seems to know what I am thinking, even before I can properly act out the motion.
How do guys do that?
Part of me wonders how good Sam and I would be as a team
.

Our team ends up winning, but it is still a very close game. Kyle and Georgia definitely ended up giving us a run for our money. I think the game really helps break the ice for Georgia, because after that, she seems so much more like the girl I remember meeting on Friday night. I think Kyle may have helped her out by slipping her a couple of beers
,
which she gladly accepted.
I don't blame her. There is a lot to be said about liquid courage.

I am shocked at how hands-off my mother has been. She seems genuinely interested in what Georgia has to say, but is not doing her overbearing mother act. I can tell she is just as impressed with Georgia as I am.

It is really not much of a surprise to see Georgia and my dad hitting it off, either. He'd pretty much get along with a lamppost, if you paired him with one. Still, I can tell he likes Georgia by the way he teases her relentlessly. He wouldn't bother if he didn't like her.
That's just Dad.

Kyle seems to be in a particularly good mood, too. Part of me is truly happy for him, because I know Georgia is his first serious girlfriend. The other not-so-nice part of me, hates him, and is resentful of the fact that he is bouncing around today without a care in the world. He's acting as if he didn't just single handedly sever my own first serious relationship.
What a selfish little prick
.

After our last game of charades, Kyle suggests we organize a friendly game of water volleyball. Our parents quickly dismiss the idea, claiming to be "too tired." So, the four of us decide to play doubles. The idea of being on the same team as Trevor again makes me a little nervous at first, but it ends up being harmless.

It turns out that we also make a pretty good water volleyball team. In fact, after beating Kyle and Georgia for the fourth consecutive time, Kyle abruptly quits. I'm actually surprised he lasted as long as he did. He is extremely competitive, and Georgia is . . . just
not
. In fact, she's not very athletic at all. I could tell it was bothering Kyle, even though he did a pretty good job of pretending that it didn't. Luckily, Georgia doesn't know my brother as well as I do, and she did not pick up on his frustration.

"We're going inside to get changed, lil sis. Good game, Maddox," Kyle calls out. He grabs Georgia's hand, tugging her along with him.

"See you later," Georgia says sweetly.

Kyle mouths a big "Thank you," to me, when Georgia isn't looking, but I just wave at him. Even though we've been getting along relatively well all day, I'm still not my brother's biggest fan right now.

"Later, Patterson. See you, Georgia," Trevor says casually, while spinning the volleyball on his finger as if it were a basketball.

I suppose he and Kyle are over whatever tiff they were having yesterday. Other than the one outburst, when Kyle caught Trevor gawking at me, the two of them seemed to get along perfectly all day. Then again, the main source of their friction isn't here.
Who knows what it would have been like had Avery been able to join us today
?

Trevor and I look at each other, wondering what we should do next. I can tell that he isn't ready to get out of the pool any more than I am. So, I suggest we play a little one-on-one. Even though Kyle and Georgia are inside now, I figure we should be fine since there will be a huge black net separating the two of us the whole time.

The game is pretty intense, but I love every minute of it. We are neck and neck the whole time, always within a point of each other. It feels like we are constantly laughing. We keep trying to
one-up
each other with fancy, showy dive plays.
It's relatively easy to be a hothead, when you have a pool full of water to catch your fall
.

At one point, Trevor jumps up to spike the ball, but he ends up falling forward, right into the net. He not only takes the net down in the water with him, but the two poles and weights that are supporting them, as well. It is quite entertaining to watch this cocky, athletic boy attempt to untangle his strong body. He looks like a helpless little fish, flopping around as he tries to break free from the netting.

"What are
you
laughing at?" he asks, while pulling the last of the black netting away from his body.

"
That
was hilarious, Maddox."

"
Yeah
. Thanks for your help, by the way." He is pretending to be mad at me, but his dimples are out in full force. I just smile and look away. I have to splash some water on my fiery cheeks.
I think his dimples are becoming the bane of my existence
.

After setting the volleyball net back up, we finish our game without incident. That is until the very end of the game, when we get into a disagreement about the game winning point.

"Do
over
," Trevor calls out, as he casually lobs the volleyball back to my side of the pool.

"What?
No way
. I won that fair and square."

"I wasn't even ready," he whines.

"You're just saying that because you don't like to lose."

"I'm just saying it because it's
true
."

"Face it.
You lost
. Suck it up, Maddox," I tease him.

"Do you
really
want to win like that?" he asks in a snarky tone.

"If by
that
, you mean that
I scored the game winning point with a killer serve
, then
yes
." I place my hand on my hip, and shoot him a smug look.

Trevor shakes his head, as if he is disappointed. "I never pegged you as a cheater, Patterson."

"
Humph
. Speak for yourself,
Mr. I wasn't ready, but really I'm asking for a do-over because I can't stand to lose
," I say, attempting to lower my voice as if I am a guy.

Before I know what is happening, my head is completely immersed, and I am swallowing a mouthful of water. When I come back up for air, I see Trevor standing in front of me, roaring with laughter. I immediately pounce on him, using all of my body weight to knock him under the water. This is how our water volleyball game morphs into a serious dunking match. By the end of it, my stomach is so sore from all of the laughing, I feel like I've done a thousand crunches.

Chapter Twenty-Seven:
I Need a Distraction From My Distraction
 

It is now late in the afternoon. Kyle and Georgia left about a half hour ago. Apparently, they already had plans tonight with some of their friends. I smile as I recall their exit. My mom actually hugged her, and made sure that Georgia knew that she is always welcome to return at any time. Georgia seemed so much more relaxed than she was at the beginning of the day. My brother was positively beaming.

Mr. and Mrs. Maddox are busy saying their goodbyes, while Trevor and I swing back and forth on the porch swing. He makes no attempt to get up, even after the front door swings open, and his parents start walking toward their car.

"We are heading back to the hotel. Are you staying, Trevor?" Mrs. Maddox turns around and asks him.

He looks at me and cocks his head to the side, in a way that seems like he is asking me for permission to stay. I simply nod as my heart skips happily. Deep down, I know that it is probably not the best idea, but I am just not ready to deal with the aftermath of my recent break-up just yet. I know that is
exactly
what I will be facing the moment he leaves.

"Yeah. I've got my car. So, I'll probably just stick around and hang out with Laila a little while longer." His voice is casual, as if he wouldn't care either way, but then he looks at me again and smiles. "That is until she gets tired of me," he adds with a wink.

"Well in that case, you better grab your keys and get going," I tease him.

"You two have fun," Mrs. Maddox sings. She smiles at Trevor in a way that seems like she is insinuating something. Trevor tries to shrug it off, but I can tell he is blushing a little.
I love when he gets embarrassed
. It just makes him seem a little bit more real.

I wait until the hum of their car fades away into the distance, before I say anything. "You don't have to hang out with me, Trevor. I mean, I don't want to keep you, if you have plans." I say the words because it seems like I should, but I am silently begging him to ignore me and stay.

"Nah. I don't really have anything to do, but sit around and watch my parents futz around at the hotel, anyway. Plus, I don't want to leave you alone."

He kicks his feet up in the air repeatedly, as we sway back and forth. I'm totally relaxed, with my feet curled up under my maxi dress, enjoying the warm gentle breeze as it tickles my nose. My body is facing Trevor. The arm of the swing is lightly jabbing into the small of my back, but I don't move.

I am trying not to stare at his profile, but it's damned near impossible. I love the way his chocolate hair falls across his forehead. His dark eyelashes seem to stretch for miles. He is gazing off into the distance through half-squinted eyelids, as if he is deep in thought.

I wonder what he is thinking about.
Is he thinking about how close our bodies are right now, the way I am? Is he thinking about how fireworks go off every time we touch? Is he feeling guilty about having all of these feelings in the first place? God knows, I am
.

An image of Avery's excited face from last night, when she told me about their first kiss, pops into my head, squelching the excitement.

"So, what do you want to do?" I finally ask him, breaking our comfortable silence. He just shrugs, as if he is perfectly content staying right here on this swing for the rest of the night.

I'm hoping we find
something
to do that will get us moving around again. It's so much harder to ignore all of these feelings when we are so close to each other, and our bodies are practically motionless. What I really need to do is find something to do that will take my mind off of
him
, too.
I need to find a distraction from my distraction
. I almost laugh out loud to myself with this thought.

"What is so funny, Patterson?" Trevor asks as a slow, crooked smile sneaks across his face.

I cover my mouth in surprise, not realizing that my giggles were audible. "Nothing. I was just thinking about how I want to
do
something, but I have no idea what to do. I shouldn't be asking you, though. After all,
I'm
the one who has been living here the past three years. I should know what to do, right?" I am babbling nervously, and I know what I am saying probably doesn't make much sense.

"Avery said there is going to be a bonfire at Creamer Park tonight." One of his eyebrows is arched, as he carefully gauges my reaction to his suggestion. "She said
everyone
is supposed to be there. Do you want to go?"

I shrug. "Yeah, sure." I agree to go, but am still wondering what we are supposed to do until then. It would probably make more sense for him to go home and come back, but I know he is worried about leaving me alone. The truth is, I am, too. I look at him again and sigh.
He really needs to go.

Before I can suggest it to him, though, the front door opens, and Mom peeks her head out. "Laila, honey. You have a phone call."

I stare at her with my nose crinkled up, because she is holding out her cell phone, instead of mine. She looks at it for a second, and then realizes why I am confused.

"Oh, it's Sam. He says he has a really important question to ask you." I try to find some hint of suspicion hidden in her voice, but she seems perfectly normal, as if him calling me on her cell phone is a regular occurrence. I've got to give it to Sam for being smart enough to call my Mom's phone. He is just playing the same game I did yesterday when he wouldn't answer my calls.

Trevor lets out a frustrated sigh, as I stand up and take the phone from my mom's hand.

"Thanks Mom," I say, as I look back at Trevor.

His face suddenly looks angry.
What the hell is wrong with him?
I shake it off, and walk down the porch steps to get some privacy.

"What do you want, Sam?" I finally say, when I'm sure my mom has closed the front door. I can't even hide the irritation in my voice.

"Why did you stop texting me, Laila? I left you like ten messages. Did you turn off your phone? Did you even
read
the letter?" His voice sounds strained and desperate.

I sigh, as my stomach twists with dread. I didn't fully realize it until this moment, but I am absolutely terrified of what that letter says.

"I've been kind of busy, Sam. We have company." I know I am being short with him, but I can't help it. "If it's
so
important, then why don't you just
tell
me what the stupid letter says?"

"What company? Who's over there?" he asks pointedly. I imagine the worried look that must be on his face right now, and I start to feel a tiny bit of sympathy for him, but then I quickly stifle it.
He did this to us. Not me.

"The Maddoxes and Georgia came over after church for an afternoon swim and barbeque."

"Is
Trevor
there?" Sam can't hide the disdain in his voice, when he says his name.

"Well,
yes
. Being that he
is
part of the Maddox family and all, naturally the invitation was extended to him, too," I reply sarcastically.

Sam grunts and curses to himself.

"What the
hell
, Sam? You don't get to be jealous. You don't get to be . . .
anything
because
you
did this to us.
You
are the one that broke up with
me
remember?
Not the other way around
.
You
took my heart out, ripped it into a million little pieces, and then you stomped all over it." My voice is now loud enough that my neighbors could probably hear me, never mind the fact that Trevor is only a few feet away. The tears are once again threatening to emerge.

"Laila, I know. I'm so
sorry
. You're completely right. I just don't like that guy. I don't trust him around you. He's supposed to be dating Avery, but he is always looking at you like he wants to
fucking
devour you or something. It makes me so mad that I just want to . . . " He stops himself from saying whatever it is that he was about to say. Now, he is breathing heavily into the phone, trying to catch his breath after getting so worked up.

"Sam, I've to get going. Was there even a point to this call?" I ask impatiently.

He sighs. "Again, I'm
really
sorry. Look, I didn't call to get in an argument with you, Laila. I just
really, really
want you to read that letter, okay? I think it will explain
everything
. I need you to know
why
I'm doing this. I
need
you to understand." His voice has returned to its normal, smooth tone.

My stomach drops. All hopes that his letter is an attempt to get back together disappear.
I want to tell him that no matter what his letter says, I will never understand, but I don't
.

Instead I say, "Fine. I'll read your
dumb
letter. I've gotta go now." My voice is clipped, as I tap the end button.

I just couldn't listen to him anymore. Hearing his voice is like having a bad scab suddenly ripped off. All of the blood comes rushing back to the surface, spilling all over, and creating yet another mess out of a wound that was finally starting to heal. Not to mention, there is that familiar sting that follows.

I wipe my face and attempt to stifle the rest of my tears, as I walk back up to the porch. I figure Trevor has already witnessed enough of my pathetic wallowing for one day.

"Trevor, I'm sure you want to go home and catch a shower before we go.
God knows
I need one," I say, as I struggle to rake my fingers through my tangled, damp hair.

He looks like he is considering it, but something seems to be holding him back. I can tell he doesn't want to leave me alone. I sit back down next to him on the swing.

"Trevor, really, it's fine. I'm
fine
." I grab his hand and squeeze it, as I peer into his gorgeous green eyes.

"Who was that?" he asks, even though I know he heard my mom tell me it was Sam.

I sigh and look away, as I answer him. "Sam."

"What did he want?" he asks hesitantly, as his gaze falls to our entwined hands.

"Nothing. He just wanted to know if I read his
stupid
letter. I told him I was too busy."

"You
still
haven't read it?"

"No and I'm not sure I want to. It's not like it's going to change anything. He even said to me that it would explain
why
he is breaking up with me, but I don't need it. I already know
why
."

"It sounded like you were arguing with him . . . ." He says this as if he expects me to finish his sentence.

I sigh again. "We were. He got mad when I told him
you
are here."

His fingers tighten into a fist, and I notice a satisfied, slightly smug smile sneak onto Trevor's face, even though he is trying to hide it.

"Look, you don't need to worry about me, okay?"

"Too late," he says, flipping our hands over so his fingers are now wrapped around mine.

"It's not your responsibility to make sure I'm okay. Does it suck that my boyfriend just dumped me?
Sure
, but I'm a big girl. I'll get over it. I mean, I will have to, so I can move on at some point."

"Yeah, but you don't have to do it alone, Laila."

"I appreciate you wanting to be there for me, and I know Avery is especially thankful, since she can't be here herself right now, but you can't
always
be here for me, Trevor. You need to give me a little breathing room, so I can work through these emotions."

"I just hate thinking about you upset and crying, Laila. I know you are fighting it right now, too. I see the tears pooling in your eyes." He reaches up with his free hand, and swipes a rogue tear away from my cheek. "It makes me so
fucking
angry with him for hurting you like this." His other fingers are now tracing circles lightly across my knuckles.

"Well, this is as much Kyle's fault as it is Sam's. If you think about it, Sam is just being a loyal friend to his buddy, right? It's Kyle that needs to grow up, and accept the fact that his little sister is growing up. If you're going to be mad at anyone, you should probably be mad at him."

I love the way it feels to have our hands entwined like this. I resist the urge to scoot my body closer to him, even though it is exactly what I want to do.

"Yeah, I'm a little annoyed with him anyway. He just about ripped me a new one when he caught me staring at you in your swimsuit today. And Friday . . . " his voice trails off.

My cheeks instantly warm up. I certainly was not expecting him to openly admit to me that he was checking me out earlier, even though we both know it was true. I have no idea how to respond. So, I don't.