The Thirty Fifth Guy

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen - Talks & Visits

Callum's Point Of View

I felt so helpless sitting with Chris outside of Chester's. Watching her stare into the sky like it was going to magically part and show her the way or give her answers.

She said she didn't want to feel vulnerable and I understand where she's coming from, I just wish she opened up to me, and felt like she could trust me instead of just saying "She doesn't love me."

Who? Would she ever trust me enough to tell me?

I guess I'd find out, eventually.

"Want to go back inside?" I gently asked her, still rubbing circles on her shoulder, hoping the notion would comfort her.

I felt her shake her head no, "I think I'm just going to go home. Tell the guys and girls bye, will you?"

"I can drive you if you want," I offered her, hoping she would say yes. I know it was early in our relationship, but we've only been on one date and we rarely get alone time.

She shook her head once more, "I think I need to clear my head, set it straight."

Her eyes met mine and hers held a faraway, distant look to them. I nodded, kissing her quickly, before she stood up and put her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her surfboard that was leaning against the wall and walking home.

I watched her, her long blonde hair swishing in the wind, before she turned a corner and I lost sight of her.

I felt cold where her body was once so tightly pressed against mine, and I regretted letting her walk home.

Silently, I stood up making my way back inside.

"Where's Chris?" Ian asked as soon as I sat down.

"She went home," I bluntly replied.

He nodded, not convinced that that was the reason.

"Was she okay?" Macy asked, and I could see genuine concern written on her face.

Every time I looked at her I could see Trevor, which is why when she told us she had a boyfriend, I was shocked. Trevor and Macy were the schools "Golden Couple" and then he died so abruptly.

No one knew about his cancer, which is why Macy was so heartbroken, I remember she didn't come to school for two weeks after, and when she did the bags under her eyes were so purple it looked as if she was beaten up, repeatedly.

I felt bad for her, but I never knew her well enough to go and comfort her.

"Yeah, she's okay. I don't exactly know why she left, but I'm sure she'll call you, she said to tell you guys not to worry." I don't know what possessed me to lie so much, to my four best friends and Chris' friends, but I did anyway.

They all nodded and we ate our meals in an awkward tension, but it was broken when Brendan came back and we started up another conversation about surfing.

Chris' Point Of View

"....And then she had the nerve to hang up on me!" I finished telling Zach the story.

We were sitting on my white bed in my room our grandmother made up for me. The walls were white but you could hardly tell with all the surfing decorations that were hung up. Old surfboard here, American flag there, beach sign here, floral print wet-suits there. It was astonishing how many random things covered the walls. Off to the side there were sheer white curtains like my room back at home, and the bed had a white bedspread and my black pillows.