Kayla

I’m a coward, I think to myself. I’ve been home for several weeks now, locked away in my home, ignoring everyone around me. I constantly refuse to pick up the phone, letting my calls go to voicemail and then returning them at times when I know the caller won’t be available or simply replying via text. I’m a writer by trade, yet I can’t find the words to explain to my family or friends why I’m so messed up. The worst part is that the one person I wish would call or text hasn’t. I didn’t expect him to. After all, it was merely a hookup for him, regardless of what he tried to make me believe. Still, it doesn’t make the hurt I’m feeling any less.

I miss Cayson James Razor. There. I said it. I miss the smile on his face when we would just sit and talk for hours about nothing at all, but most of all, I miss the feel of his hands on my body and the softness of his lips when he kisses me. Just the memory of how he felt has my core heating up and my nipples puckering.

After crying myself to sleep for three days, I snapped myself back into reality and then spent the weeks following writing some of my best chapters ever. Words rolled from my fingers to the keyboard and onto the pages of my Word document. The story of Richie and Lara came to life before my eyes. Pages and pages of raw emotion filled every chapter, but now I’m at a turning point. Do Richie and Lara have a happy ending, or do they go up in flames just like my own life has? I’m stuck, writer's block worse than I’ve ever experienced it before. The characters have stopped talking to me; they’re hanging in limbo waiting for me to give them direction, but I can't do it. I don’t know what to do, so I just sit here with my fingers on the keyboard, forcing myself to find a path for my characters.

My phone rings, startling me back to reality. I stand and walk to the counter to retrieve it. I never keep it beside me when I write because it’s a distraction. With each step I take toward my phone, my heart leaps with anticipation that today is the day that Cayson is going to be the person on the end of the line. When I pick up my phone, my heart sinks because today, like every other day, it is not him.

Deciding not to avoid the world or my best friend any longer, I press down on the little green button and answer my phone. “Hi, Kathy.”

“Well, it’s about damn time you answered your phone, Kayla.” I can hear the bitterness in her tone. “I’ve been calling you for days, and you’ve been ignoring me. Don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been back for three weeks. I’ve talked to your mom several times. It seems like you’ve chosen to ignore all of us. What gives, Kayla? It’s not like you to ignore my calls. Is this how you treat your BFF?”

Kathy always has a way of making me feel guilty. “You are my BFF, Kathy. I’ve just gotten lost in writing. You know I’ve got to get it all down while it’s flowing through my head. Sorry I’ve ignored you. What’s on your mind, my beautiful friend?”

“Ha, now I know something is wrong. You never call me your beautiful friend unless you’re trying to distract me. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you called me beautiful, but there’s something wrong, so spill, Kayla.”

Once Kathy thinks she is onto something, she holds on to it like a puppy with a chew toy. “Nothing is wrong, Kathy, I swear.”

I can hear the rattle of a bag on the other end of the phone and then the crunching sound of Kathy stuffing her face with chips. Her words are distorted by the fact that she’s trying to talk with her mouth full. “If you say so.” The sound of additional crunching echoes through the phone.

“Did you call me to chew in my ear, Kathy, or is there a reason behind this call?” I ask, slightly upset that she doesn’t have the courtesy to not stuff her mouth when she speaks.

“Geez, Kayla, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.” Kathy huffs and blows a breath out. “So, yes, there is a reason behind my call. My brother, Rusty, wants me to go to an old co-worker’s home for a barbecue. I guess he feels sorry for me and wants me to get out more. I don’t want to go alone with him because he’ll just leave me by myself not knowing anyone. Please come with me.”

I want to tell her no, but Kathy continues to beg me over and over again before I get a chance to decline. “I guess, but if this turns out to be a disaster, I’m going to hurt you and leave you for dead.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, BFF. We’ll pick you up in an hour.” Before I can ask where it’s at or what I should wear, Kathy has already hung up the phone.

* * *

The whole street is filled with cars as far as the eye can see. “Wow, this must be some barbecue,” I say. “Who is this person again?” I’m completely mesmerized by the homes that line both sides of the streets of this gated community. Every single one of them is a custom home, each bigger than the last. Kathy and I await an answer from Rusty.

Rusty pulls into the only open spot on the street, which blocks the driveway. I look in the rearview mirror to see Rusty’s face and that he is looking back at me. “This house belongs to a friend I once worked with. His name is Gauge Ellington. We worked together at the Sweet Spot before he opened his own security firm. Does pretty well for himself these days.” I see the corners of Rusty’s lips turn up in a smile. “Who would have thought an ex-con and a stripper would fit into this type of neighborhood?” Rusty says, shaking his head and laughing.

Kathy wastes no time getting out of the car. “Well, what are you two waiting for? There are food and drinks calling my name. I’m freaking hungry.”

“When aren’t you hungry?” I say as I climb out of the car. A stripper and an ex-con, I think to myself. Now, that has story potential written all over it, if I might say so.

This home is amazing; two stories that are covered by a stone façade, and wall-to-ceiling windows line the front. Rusty doesn’t ring a doorbell or even knock; he just pushes the door to the home open and walks right in. Kathy and I follow behind him. I’m in awe at the beauty of the inside. The floors on the bottom level are made of gray stone granite. Immediately in front of us, there is a staircase that leads to the second level. The stairs are made of mahogany wood, and decorative iron creates the handrails that line both sides of the stairs. A huge fireplace sits off to the right in front of a huge leather sofa and wing chairs. As we make our way to the back, we pass a kitchen with two huge center islands covered in the most colorful granite I’ve ever seen. The kitchen is as big as half my house. “Wow,” I say, completely awestruck. “How many people live in this house?”

“Just Gauge and his wife, Lexi, and their two kids,” Rusty says as he continues to walk toward the backyard. We pass what appears to be a wine cellar made of glass, tucked off in the corner of the far end of the dining area. The back wall that separates the house from the yard is made of wall-to-ceiling glass that slides open.

Once outside, I see at least a hundred people in the backyard. Some are sitting by a pool as large as half a football field. The view of Mummy Mountain adds to the beauty of this yard, along with the lighted palm trees that line its side.

A very scary-looking six-foot-four man covered In tattoos is walking toward us holding two beers in his hand. An angry scowl rests on his face. “It's about time your ass got here, Rusty,” he grumbles while extending a beer to Rusty. “Who do you have with you?”

Rusty takes the beer from the scary man and tips it to his lips before he answers. “This is my sister, Kathy, and her friend Kayla.”

I extend my hand, but two large arms wrap around me and hug me tight. “Gauge, Gauge Ellington. Welcome to our home.” When he steps away, Gauge points off into the distance to a tiny, beautiful, red-headed woman. “That is my wife, Lexi.” Just then, a black and white Husky appears out of nowhere and jumps up, almost knocking me over. “Houdini, down. Sorry about that,” Gauge apologizes. “Come on, let me introduce you to everyone else. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, thank you, I’m good for now,” I say as I follow behind Gauge and Rusty. “Rusty,” the beautiful redhead calls out as she runs toward us and jumps into Rusty's arms, wrapping her legs around him as he hugs her. “So good to see you. It’s been way too long.”

Gauge’s hand meets the back of Rusty’s head with the force of a hammer. “Put my wife down, you pervert. You know better than to touch what isn’t yours.”

“Hey, she jumped into my arms, not the other way around. Maybe you need to satisfy your woman better, and she won’t come running to me.” Rusty laughs as Lexi releases herself from him.

Kathy pulls me by the arm and leads me to some tables filled with food. Children are running all over the place, screaming and laughing. Not exactly what I pictured in my mind when Rusty said ex-con and stripper. Actually, I’m not sure what I expected. I can definitely see the ex-con in Gauge, but never would I have thought Lexi was a stripper. Following behind Kathy, I load up my plate with some food to snack on. I’m almost to the end of the table when a deep voice speaks to me. “Hi, I’m Randy.” Turning to face the voice, I find the face of a Greek god looking back at me. Piercing green eyes and blond hair attached to a slender man around six foot six smile at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at one of the gatherings before.”

Trying to juggle my plate and still extend my hand, I answer, “I’m Kayla. This is the first I’ve been to. I’m just here with a friend. I don’t know the Ellingtons.” An electric shock runs up my arm when Randy takes my hand in his.

“Nice to meet you, Kayla. I work for Gauge. Care to join us over there?” Randy points to a group of men and women sitting at a table that is next to a fountain. “Your friend can join us, too.” He looks toward Kathy when he says the last part.

I’m about to politely tell Randy no thank you when Kathy pipes in. “We’d love to.” That girl really needs to learn how to mind her own business. I didn’t realize she was eavesdropping on our conversation.

My phone vibrates in my bra. I see Randy’s eyes follow my hand as it reaches inside my shirt to pull my phone from under my bra strap. Glancing at the screen, I first notice that it's after ten o’clock in the evening. It didn’t seem like we’ve been there that long. The next thing I see is that I have a text from Jenna.

JENNA: Where are you, Girl? It’s been weeks, and you’re not returning my calls or texts. Did I do something to offend you?

Politely, I excuse myself and walk toward the house, where I can find some privacy. I’m not sure if I want to text her back or actually call her. By the time I reach the patio area, I’ve decided to go with texting back.

ME: Sorry, Jenna. I’ve been super busy. Writing and all.

JENNA: You sure that’s all it is?.

ME: Yes, why?

JENNA: I don’t know. It’s just weird how you left, and then you said you’d call, and you never did. No one has heard from you. Not even CJ.

ME: Why would you think I would contact CJ?

JENNA: Well, because you are or were head over heels for him, and he was for you.

ME: No, I wasn’t, and no, he wasn’t. It was a business arrangement.

JENNA: Lie to yourself, Kayla, all you want, but I know different. The two of you are so much alike, I swear.

ME: What? How are we alike?

JENNA: Both of you are playing like neither one of you is missing the other. But you are both full of shit. We all see it, but you two refuse to admit it.

I start to reply when my phone rings. It’s Jenna. I waver on whether to let it go to voicemail or answer it and then decide to go with the latter since it would be rude to ignore her call when I’ve already been texting with her. “What, Jenna?”

“Well, you do live,” she says. “I was beginning to think you were dead until you texted back. Then I decided I needed to hear your voice just to make sure it was really you.”

“Hardy har har,” I reply. “I am still alive. Like I said, I needed to get my thoughts on paper while they were still fresh in my mind. I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.” A tinge of guilt hits me because I know I just lied to her.

“So, how have you been? What’s new?” Jenna questions.

Jenna controls the majority of the conversation over the next half hour. She fills me in on everything that is and isn’t happening with the band and makes a special note to emphasize how unhappy and out of character Cayson has been. I’m finding it hard to believe that Cayson even notices I’m gone, since I haven’t heard from him once since I left. I know it was chicken shit of me to just leave without saying a word or leaving a note, but Cayson could have reached out to me if he wanted to or if he missed me that much. I was about to tell Jenna that when I feel the cushion beside me dip. I didn’t hear Randy sneak up on me. Placing my finger to my lips, I silently tell him to be quiet. “Look, Jenna, it’s been great catching up, but I’ve really got to go. I’m at a barbecue, and I really need to get back to everyone. Let’s catch up next week sometime, alright?”

I can hear the disappointment in her voice. “Sure, Kayla. I’ll call you next week, or you call me. Whichever. Bye, Kayla.” I find myself saying good-bye to an already disconnected line.

“You look sad. Everything alright?” A questioning Randy looks at me.

Without missing a beat, I stand up and say, “Yeah, I’m great. Look, it was nice meeting you, Randy, but I’m kind of tired and ready to leave. I’m not trying to be rude, but do you know where Rusty is?”

“Don’t worry about it, Kayla, it’s perfectly fine, you're not rude. I think I saw Rusty last by the cornhole game with Gauge and his family.” Before I can walk away, Randy grabs my arm and takes the phone from my hand, punching something into the keypad.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I ask as I snag my phone back from him.

“Just giving you my number and calling myself.” I watch as he takes his phone from his pocket. “Now I have your number, and you have mine. No reason why we can’t get together again, right? It was really nice to meet you. Have a nice rest of your evening.” Just like that, Randy turns and walks away.

I’m just a few steps away from Rusty when Kathy comes running up beside me. “You ready to go? I’m tired and bored, Kayla.” That’s so much like Kathy; the world always revolves around what she wants. I’m so much the opposite, which is why I think we have been such great friends all these years. “Rusty,” she whines, “Kayla and I are ready to go home. Can we go now?”

My phone vibrates once again in my hand.

RANDY: NIght, Kayla, I really enjoyed meeting you.