Chapter 38

Chelsea

 

 

“What the hell was I thinking?” I ask Taylor, later that night.

She’s come to my house for a sleepover, so that I’m not left alone with my stuffed teddy bear yet again.

“Look, Chelsea, you didn’t know this would happen,” she says. “You liked someone. You followed your heart. That’s nothing to regret.”

“Well I certainly regret it. In fact, I’m still caught up wondering, ‘What if?’ What if he really wasn’t on a date? I didn’t even give him a chance to explain…”

“Okay, yeah, I have to stop you right there,” she says, shaking her head at me. “Because I do think we can be reasonably sure he was on a date. And even if he wasn’t, there were a bunch of other red flags before that. He ditched the Frisbee game he’d invited you to, without any explanation. He ignored your text and chose to go out with some girl— whoever she was—instead of meeting you in your spot.”

“Yeah, but he seemed to be really offended by the fact that we had to only meet in that spot,” I tell her, thinking back to what Wesley had said during our fight. “It’s like he was mad that we couldn’t see each other or be a real couple, but it was his idea to keep it all a big secret. Wait. Wasn’t it?”

Nothing's making sense to me anymore.

“Chelsea, I know you’re second guessing everything right now. You can’t trust yourself because you’ve been hugely let down by someone you thought cared about you. But now is not the time to re-write history. Give it a few days and you’ll be back to feeling great about yourself for nipping this in the bud before you were in too deep.”

“But that’s the problem,” I tell her. “I already got in so deep. And I truly thought he had too. I know, I know… that’s the point of the game he was playing. That’s how they all do it. But I just wish I had a way to know for sure, so that I had some sense of closure.”

“I understand,” Taylor says. “I wish life would give us a big sign about these kinds of things. But it doesn’t. So let’s go have some ice cream and forget about our worries for a while, shall we?”

“Good idea,” I tell her. “I’m sorry I’m such a bad sleepover host. All I do is moan and bitch, and I don’t even give you any ice cream as a reward for putting up with me. You have to ask for it in between listening to my sad sob stories.”

“Don’t be silly,” she says. “That’s what I’m here for. And for the ice cream in your freezer, of course.”

I laugh. But before we make it out of my room, I get another text from Mandy’s mom.

It’s a suspected drug overdose. She’s in a coma. Please keep this information confidential.

“Oh my god,” I say, upset all over again.

“Mandy? Really?”

Taylor looks just as upset as I feel.

We hug each other.

“Yeah. I guess. I don’t understand why Mandy would take drugs,” I tell her.

“Well, she was kind of a partier…” she says, and I reluctantly nod, thinking about all the houses she’s trashed when she drank too much and a couple times that she got kicked out of bars for being too drunk.

“But still,” I say.

“Yeah, I know. It’s insane. And Chelsea?”

Taylor looks hesitant.

“Yeah?”

I’m just as hesitant.

“I don’t know how I can tell you this, but I really think you should know.”

I have a sinking feeling in my stomach and I already know what she’s going to say.

“I wasn’t going to tell you at first,” she continues. “Because I didn’t think it was completely relevant to the, um, situation. But when I was talking to Christian about Wesley, he told me that, well…”

“Let me help you out,” I tell her, surprised by how sarcastic my voice sounds. “He told you that Wesley got in trouble for selling drugs at Huningdale.”

“Wow,” she says, reacting with a similar tone to the one I was just using without really meaning to. “You knew that?”

The question implies another one. And you’re still entertaining thoughts of the two of you being together?

“Look Taylor, it’s complicated. I didn’t really know what to believe. Just like you said, the source is sketchy, we have no proof of anything…”

“Yeah but that’s really suspending a lot of judgment for a guy you barely know,” Taylor scolds.

I nearly break down crying.

“I know,” I almost blubber. “But I did think I knew him. How could he be so nice to me? So good to me, when really…”

“…when really it’s all just a sham?” Taylor asks.

I nod, feeling pathetic.

“Because that’s how players are. That’s why you should never get your heart involved.”

“I tried not to, Taylor,” I tell her. “I tried to be like you, and just let loose and have some fun. I guess I let him trick me. And he really got me good. I really am so pathetic.”

“Now, now,” Taylor says, putting her arms around me again. She pats me on the back. “It’s okay. You can’t help how you feel. He’s the pathetic one, not you.

I sigh, knowing she’s right but not completely feeling it.

“Don’t you think some ice cream could help this situation?” Taylor asks.

I laugh, glad she always knows how to lighten the moment.

“Yes. No matter how bad things get, ice cream always helps,” I tell her.

As we enter the kitchen, we see my dad sitting at the table, his mouth agape as he reads a piece of paper in his hand. I quickly wipe my eyes, hoping he doesn’t notice I was crying.

But I needn’t have worried. He’s completely caught up in something obviously upsetting to him. He certainly looks distraught.

“Dad, are you okay?” I ask him.

“I’ve been better,” he says, and then he shrugs. “Say, do either of you know of any good math tutors?”

“Why?” I ask.

“It appears my star player needs some tutoring. Hopefully that’s all he needs.”

I accidentally sigh far too loudly.

“Oh my god,” I exclaim. “That figures. He can’t even pass his classes, either. He’s too busy…”

As my dad looks at me curiously, I catch myself and say, “…playing football all the time. All your players are more jocks than scholars. That’s why I’d never want to date any of them. Their brain is the one muscle they never exercise.”

“Well that’s good,” he says. “Because I sure wondered why you seemed so interested in Wesley Reynolds. I don’t think I could handle any more bad news today.”

“Ha ha,” I fake laugh, acting like that is the funniest thing I’ve heard in ages.

Taylor swoops in to rescue me.

“I may know of some good students who tutor math,” she says, throwing me a wink. “Let me ask around and get back with you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Taylor,” my dad says. “I’d appreciate it.”

And then I scoop out ice cream for Taylor, and some for my dad too. I’m glad for Taylor’s quick saves and her listening ear. And for not mentioning anything to my dad about Mandy’s drug overdose and the suspected link to Wesley. It’s still just a rumor and I need to sort it all out before my dad finds out.

But not right now. All I want to do tonight is relax and hang out with my BFF and forget about the bad boy I was too stupid to stay away from until now.