Kiss Off

Chapter 25

*Unedited

I decide to take Cooper's advice. It's a Saturday and I've endured yet another grueling week of awkward conversations. Thankfully, Chloe seems to be completely over what happened during the dance. It only took her a day or two to forget about it, and after talking through everything, she was much more understanding about my brief stint of stupidity. I mean, she still thinks I'm stupid, but she gets it.

Even Bryson and Cooper have been decent. They don't purposely treat me different. I really just think they can't help it. They can't erase the tension around us. We're all just fumbling to appear normal, but none of us know how to achieve it. So we fake it. And I'm so done with the fake smiles and lighthearted chitchats because somehow it all feels so heavy.

Flopping back onto my bed, I pull out my cell phone and find Bryson's number. It only took Bryson and me a freaking month to exchange numbers after we lost ours in the tornado incident, and oddly, this is the first time I've needed it.

Placing my phone to my ear, I stare out the window at the motionless, leafless trees while I hum to myself. I'm completely tone deaf, and the thought of Bryson answering and hearing my poor attempt at singing is a legitimate fear, but I need the noise. I need to fill the silence with something other than the buzz in my ear of my phone as it summons Bryson's.

And then he answers and my throat closes in around any and all sounds trying to escape my lips.

"Hey."

There is zero emotion attached to his greeting. In fact, he sounds a little distracted. Dare I say, annoyed?

"Hi," I squeak before laughing awkwardly and clearing my throat. "Hey. Sorry to bother you. I was hoping you might have a minute to talk."

I wait a couple seconds for a response, but there's nothing.

"In person?" I add, hesitant.

I hear someone holler in the background and a moment later an explosion—something like a firework—goes off in the distance. Then the line goes muffled and Bryson is laughing at something someone says.

"Yeah, dude," he's saying. "Just give me a sec." Then the line's clear and I've got his attention again. "Sorry, Everly. What were you saying?"

"Oh, uh, I was just calling to see if you'd like to get together... to talk," I push my hair behind my ear and tuck my hand between my knees. "But it sounds like you're busy, so maybe later?"

Another explosion goes off, followed by two more.

"I'm not that busy," he explains. "You'd have to come to me though. You up for taking a little trip?"

"Uh, sure."

Bryson's directions lead me thirty-minutes outside of town where, apart from the fields and the cows, it seems I'm entirely alone. I must have misheard him or typed the wrong address into my phone GPS. This doesn't feel right, especially when my phone tells me to turn right... down a narrow, dirt road that's straight out of a horror film.

A small building appears around a large patch of trees and I pull into the generous parking lot. There are only three other vehicles parked outside, but the sign painted across the building tells me exactly where I am.

Shelly's Shooting Range

Guess that explains the explosions going off in the distance.

I wad my hair into a messy bun, pull a breath into my lungs, and then exit my car. This shouldn't feel this hard. It shouldn't feel like I've driven all this way just to have everyone point their rifles at my chest and pull their triggers.