Christina Lee - Whisper to Me

“Over last winter break,” Dakota said, and I dipped my head, pretending to straighten my corner of the blanket.

“Maybe we’d already headed home to our families,” Ella said, thinking it through.

The first band began their set, and I was glad for the distraction as people stood and began swaying to the noisy riffs of the music. Then some drunk dude tripped over the blanket in front of us, also providing a temporary respite.

“Anyway,” I said, hoping for a change of subject. “Still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that you got engaged, Avery.”

“I know,” she said, spreading her fingers to admire her ring. It was a round stone and looked dainty and vintage. “Can you believe that shit?”

“It’s so romantic,” Ella said dreamily, removing the cheese and crackers from our cooler. “You guys are so in love, it’s sick.”

“Us?” Avery said, her eyebrows rising to her hairline. “Have you taken a look at you and Quinn? You guys barely come up for air when you’re in the same room.”

“Shut up, dickhead.” Ella laughed and tossed a stray grape in Avery’s lap.

While Avery and Ella had a mini grape war, Dakota leaned over and whispered, “I really like your friends. I can see why you hang with them. Outside of the fact that you all have the same potty mouths.”

“I’m glad you do,” I said, smiling warily. I would have been much more relaxed if I hadn’t been keeping secrets from my best friend and college friends. Damn it, how did I allow myself to get into this situation?

“Tell us what’s happening with you,” Ella said, after offering some cheese and crackers on a paper plate. “And what about these hot boys you’re hanging with? Have you hooked up with either of them yet?”

I cringed, and Avery gave Ella’s knee a not-so-subtle nudge.

“What?” Ella asked innocently.

I tried to do damage control before the conversation got any spicier. “For starters, Kai is Dakota’s brother—I thought I’d told you guys that, but maybe you hadn’t put two and two together.”

Ella shook her head. “Guess it makes sense that he’s rooming with you guys. I didn’t remember, sorry.” That didn’t surprise me—I spoke more of Dakota than Kai, and even that was infrequent.

“No biggie,” I said. “And Shane is his best friend. So there’s nothing going on with this group.”

Dakota’s eyes became soft and her cheeks splotched red. “We grew up together, so we’re more like siblings.” She said this to the blanket, though, rather than meeting anybody’s eyes, mine especially. My friends probably thought she was embarrassed about the idea of kissing someone who was more like a brother, but I knew better.

“Yikes, my bad,” Ella said. “I could have sworn I saw something different, but maybe it was my imagination.”

“What do you mean?” Dakota said, her eyes darting around to other people’s blankets.

“Nothing.” Ella bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.”

“No, it’s cool. Was it about Shane?” Dakota looked over her shoulder conspiratorially to make sure the guys weren’t headed back over. “Shane has always kind of had a crush on me.”

I rolled my eyes at how Dakota had slanted it Shane’s way. As if the crush wasn’t reciprocated. Only I’d notice that distinction, however.

Frankly, I was surprised that Dakota was being so candid with people she’d just met. But it did seem as if she’d warmed up to them pretty quickly. Maybe because she’d noticed how easygoing my relationship with them was. Plus her cousin Nate was friends with them.

“I knew it,” said Ella, relief flooding her features that she hadn’t spoken out of turn.

“But no way would Shane want to cross Kai,” I said, adding to the explanation. “He is way too protective of the women in his life.”

“Well, that sucks,” Avery said, always one to speak frankly. “Even you, Rachel?”

“Oh God, yes,” Dakota blurted out, before I could come up with a safe response. “He was at that hospital every single day watching over her, making sure she was going to make it through her recovery. If Rachel has one protector in her life, it’s my brother, Kai.”

Panic rose in my gut to a crescendo. A hush had descended over the group as Ella and Avery became stiff and silent, and I stared at the ground. Well, here it was—all out there, without my being able to say it in my own way.

If I had been smart and not such a chicken shit, I would have called them before they drove all the way out here. And told them the whole truth. Maybe they would have decided not to make the trip after all, and then maybe we wouldn’t be sitting here now in this awkward situation.

“What in the hell just happened?” Dakota looked from one to the other. “Did I say something wrong?”

“We just . . .” Ella started, and our gazes collided. I shut my eyes against the truth she was about to betray. “I think we don’t know very much about Rachel yet. We love hanging out with her, but we haven’t heard a lot about her past.”

Dakota swung her gaze toward me. “You didn’t tell them about your accident . . . your rehab?”

I shook my head, remorse settling in my gut.

“Why not?” Avery said, concern etched in her features. “Did you not feel . . . comfortable enough, telling us?”

I hung my head in shame.

“But”—Ella shot Avery a look—“you know practically everything about us. So you know we’re not even close to being perfect. Did you think we’d expect you to be?”

“What in the hell is going on?” Dakota said, rising up on her knees, disappointment dripping from her voice. I felt like a scolded child.

“I just— Listen,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. “I wanted to go somewhere and not be known as the girl with the brain injury.”

“Brain injury?” Ella’s voice had pitched higher. “God, Rachel, I’m so sorry.”

Avery stared at me with something like awe in her eyes. Her gaze skated around my neck and shoulders and then up to my hair, as if picturing the damage.

“See, that’s exactly it,” I said, so quiet. I would have curled into a nearly invisible ball right then if I’d had the chance. “I didn’t want anyone’s pity.”

“I actually understand that,” Avery said. And somehow I’d known she would. Ella was always more open. The more talkative one. Avery had been a bit closed off when I’d first met her.

Until Bennett came along. He had definitely been a positive force in her life. So what did that say about me? I certainly didn’t need a boy to help me figure shit out. Even though the heart-to-hearts I’d been having with Kai were more comforting than any pep talk I’d given myself.

“Still, I should have told you. But I kind of blew it,” I said. “I guess as more time went by, I figured, why bother.”

I looked at Dakota, her jaw slack and her eyes glassy. “I know it doesn’t make much sense to you.”

Dakota snapped out of her trance to look at me. “I feel like you’re two different people, Rachel.”

I hid my face in my hands. “If you only knew.”

She yanked my fingers away from my eyes. “After this concert, we’re going to talk, you and me. I have a feeling you’ve got more to explain.”

I sucked in a deep breath without responding. That was proof enough.

“We’d like that, too,” Ella said, and Avery nudged her knee. “I mean . . . only when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be ready,” I said, wishing we were in a different setting. I just wanted to spill it all out now. Get it over with and deal with the ramifications. “I’ve been such an idiot.”

Even still, relief washed through me. One hurdle down, one to go.

The guys were headed back, double-fisting drinks, one for each of us. Bennett was laughing at something Shane was saying while Kai and Quinn were looking at Nate, who pointed out something in the distance. Then Nate headed off to where Jessie continued to chat with some girl with a flower tattoo to hand her the beer. She smiled at him and then began introducing him to her friend.

Kai handed me white wine in a plastic cup, Shane handed Dakota hers, and it all seemed so ordinary. If anyone were scrutinizing us from the outside, they might have seen four couples, even though half the people in our group were only friends. And it struck me just how natural it felt to be here like this—sitting on a blanket next to Kai, listening to music under the stars, and talking about friends and work and school.

Would it have felt the same with Miles and his friends?

The awareness hit me that it never had. It was always me with him and his crew, never him with me and my friends, and we barely ever all hung out together. I just gave everything up for him. And I vowed right then and there to never do that for any guy again.

Kai leaned over and whispered, “How’s it going—have you been outed yet?”

“As a matter of fact, I have,” I said, I hoped quietly enough that nobody heard. “Thanks to Dakota.”

“Already?” He glanced at his sister and shook his head. “We haven’t even been here that long.”

I cringed. “No kidding.”

“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag”—he spoke against my hair, and I held in a shiver—“was it really so bad?”

I looked back at my friends, who all seemed to be having a good time listening to the second act, which was a pseudo punk rock band. “No. Actually, I feel relieved.”

“Told you,” he said, all smug, and I elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

“They only know about my injury, though,” I said. “Not about the Miles stuff.”

“They’ll be here tomorrow, too. Tell them before they leave,” he said, patting my knee as I tensed up.

Gray puffs of clouds moved overhead, and the night air became chilly, so we covered ourselves with the extra blankets we’d brought. I made sure not to sit wrapped up with Kai. I didn’t want to lose myself in the feel of his skin next to mine and his heat mixing with the softness of the throw. It would feel too . . . nice. Too right. And I’m sure all my emotions would be visible on my face.

So I scooted back and shared the edge of a blanket with Avery.

“You think the rain will hold?” Ella was leaning against Quinn’s legs and looking up. The dark clouds loomed, blotting out the stars, and against the nighttime sky they looked ominous.

“Hope so,” Dakota said, sitting between Shane and Nate, who had returned with Jessie. “If not, we can head out, since we’ve seen half the show already.”

* * *

Ninety minutes later, there was a break before the final act. During that time I had answered a couple of more questions Ella and Avery had about my accident and rehab. Dakota listened in but kept quiet. I could feel her disappointment, her disillusion, heavy as the blanket I was sitting beneath.

Kai stood and announced to the group that he was going down to the pavilion to see his favorite band up close and personal. I could see the exhilaration in his eyes, the lightness in his features. He looked so stunning right then—in his element, surrounded by music.

The Black Tresses were more of a rockabilly band with a bluesy mix, and I could almost imagine Kai up on that stage with them. I hadn’t seen him play a gig in a long while, but I’d heard he was sitting in with a jazz band at the casino in a couple of weeks.

“I have an extra ticket if anyone wants to head down with me.” Kai glanced over his shoulder and then back toward the stage. I eyed my friends, all cozy beneath their layers. Even Nate and Jessie were sitting pretty close together. Dakota and Shane, of course, were pretending like they weren’t.

“I’ll go,” I said, raising my hand to him. “Help me up.”

He gave me a lopsided grin, latched onto my fingers, and pulled me up to stand. Dusting myself off, I turned to my friends. “Keep your cells close in case we get separated or you guys want to take off. This place is like a zoo.”

I waved as I followed behind Kai down the hill.

“Rachel, wait up.” Avery’s voice was loud enough to be heard over the din of rock music piping through the speakers during intermission.

She trudged toward me through the grass, followed closely by Ella. Kai was a few paces ahead, but stopped to wait for me near a bunch of rowdy guys on a plaid blanket.

I turned toward my friends, my stomach clenched tight. “Yeah?”

“We just wanted to say . . . that it’s okay,” Ella said, gripping her plastic wine cup. “Don’t feel bad about . . . you know, not telling us anything.”

“I already feel terrible.” I toed the grass as a flash of heat climbed up my neck. “And I can’t say I’m sorry enough. But . . . thanks for trying to understand.”