Derailed

Chapter Nineteen

I was lucky Shayna made me put on sunscreen. Even lathered with 45, I still managed to get two spots of sunburn from a few hours of lying out. We headed home in good moods. It's hard to have any other mood after spending time in the sun. I know some people hate it when it's hot, but it must be in my blood to love scorching temperatures. Mom always said it was the southern girl in me that makes me live for it so much. I couldn't believe Shayna had willingly moved to such a rainy, overcast city.

I missed a call from Ben while I showered, so I called him back while I waited for Shayna to take her turn.

"Hey, babe."

"Hey. Sorry, I just saw I missed your call."

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight. I thought maybe I could cook for you."

"You cook?" I asked, unsuccessful at keeping the surprise out of my voice.

He laughed. "Yeah, I cook."

"Well as tempting as that sounds, I may have to pass. Shayna dropped in for a visit."

"What? When did she get here?"

"Around ten. Be glad you were long gone."

"Yeah, that was probably for the best. But, why don't you both come over for dinner?"

I thought about it for a minute and decided it would be good for Shayna to see Ben and me together. "Yeah? I think we can do that."

"Cool. How about you come by around seven?"

"All right, we'll see you then."

"I can't wait." I could almost hear him smiling through the phone.

"Me either, bye."

"Bye, Mol."

I decided to throw in a load of laundry while I waited for Shayna. I never remembered to do basic things like that anymore. Shayna showed up just as I crashed on the couch.

"So, we have dinner plans."

"We do?" Shayna sat down across from me on the loveseat.

"Yeah, Ben's cooking for us."

"Ben can cook?"

"I asked him the same thing, and he assured me he's capable."

She straightened a throw blanket I had left lying around. "I guess it was sweet of him to invite us, and if you insist on dating him again, I might as well see him. Now I'm curious to see if you're right about him growing up."

"You don't trust me?"

"When it comes to Ben, no. You were always so blind with him. He could do no wrong in your eyes."

"That's not true." I sat up, ready for a fight.

"Yes, it is."

I knew what she was talking about. When she was home on break from college one year, she ran into an incredibly high Ben, and she assured me it wasn't from weed. She confronted me about it, and I refused to believe her. Of course, I found out from a friend that it was true. I didn't talk to him for a week after that, but he promised to stop, so I eventually forgave him. Ben said I was hypocritical because I drank, but I never bought that line.

"He's not the same boy anymore."

"I hope you're right."

I immediately went on the defensive. "I am. It's not like I was an angel back then either."

"It's not like you're an angel now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped, worried about where this conversation was going.