Point of View: AJ
I got like maybe half a fucking block from the hospital before I felt safe enough to pull over. I shifted into park and leaned my forehead down on the steering wheel and took a long, shuddering breath.
Just friends.
She might as well have taken my heart out of my chest, mocked it mercilessly, then stomped the fucking shit out of it. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong, I knew it with every fiber of my being, but I couldn't make it change for the life of me.
I wasn’t even sure what I felt was called, what it could be labeled.
She's Nick's, I reminded myself, my inner dialogue becoming frustrated with myself. Nick needs her.
My cell phone rang and I glanced at it. Kevin. I flipped it open. “Yo, speak words,” I greeted him, swallowing the agony that Kayla had inflicted upon me.
“Where the hell are you? I thought you were almost here?” Kevin’s voice was sharp and annoyed.
“Uh yeah I took a detour,” I explained. I shifted the truck out of park.
“A detour?” Kevin asked, his voice rising in skepticism.
I maneuvered my way into traffic. “Uh huh,” I answered absently.
“AJ, we don’t have time for you to stop to hit on some –“
“Kayla needed a ride,” I snapped.
Kevin shut up. He sighed. “Well, just – just get here quick okay? We need to go over what’s going on tomorrow so we’re on the same page.”
“Right.”
I hung up the phone and rolled my eyes as I chucked it to the passenger seat. It was so like Kevin to want to do a “dress rehearsal” of how we were all going to be acting and reacting at Nick’s trial the next day. Like Nick needed that. Like us being rehearsed would somehow help Nick. We weren’t even going to be a major help to him, really… It was all about Desi’s cell phone message.
I shifted the truck out of park and merged back into traffic and passed the Panera Bread where I’d picked Kayla up. The fans were still standing in the parking lot gabbing. I chuckled to myself, smiling as I thought of Kayla’s reluctance to talk to them.
It didn’t take long before I’d realigned myself with the GPS guiding me to Brian’s rented house, and I’d left the city and found myself in a too-neat, too-clean suburb that was rank with trademarks of Brian’s home-choosing skills. Nice lawns, McMansions, pools, trees, circular driveways, gates, security… Things that made the place Baylee-friendly, but remarkably cookie-cutter-esque.
When I pulled into the driveway at Brian’s house, I cut the engine and stared at the door, looming across the grass. I took a deep breath.
Nick’s trial was mere hours away now – no longer measurable in days as it had been before. All of our lives were, possibly, about to be completely, unalterably changed. I wondered if any of the other guys – besides maybe Brian – had realized the enormity of the trial… what it meant, what it could mean…
I climbed out of the truck and headed inside, where Kevin was already barking instructions and Brian was wringing his hands in nerves. Kevin’s eyebrows were stitched together and Howie was stuttering over his words. The house smelled strongly of various dishes as Leighanne stressed in the kitchen, and Baylee, picking up on all the tension, greeted me hyperactively at the door.
We all knew this was it.
