Who the fuck knew.
This could blow his world right open. That carefully constructed world he’d built for himself… The one where he lived behind soundproofed doors, alone, and no one could touch him. Where everything was perfectly in his control.
It could fuck with his head.
It could send him right back to crazy town.
Like what if he totally stopped speaking to me? Shut me out like he shut everyone else out?
What if he fell apart again? Stopped talking toanyoneand stopped eating, stopped showering… stopped giving a fuck about himself.
I couldn’t let that shit happen.
For all I knew, it was happening right now, behind closed doors.
He hadn’t texted me in days, either.
* * *
On Friday, Cary finally texted me back. He said the album was going good. He was working.
The usual.
He sounded okay.
But it was like a six word text.
By Saturday, I’d caved and gone back to his place. Only to find that Courteney had moved into the poolhouse in my absence.
“I thought you moved out,” she said flatly, standing in the doorway of the poolhouse in a pink bikini and ponytail, arms crossed, glaring at me.
I didn’t say a word.
She pointed me in the direction of the main house… Where I discovered all my personal possessions from the poolhouse had been packed up and left for me in one of the guest rooms. The room right next to hers, which she was, apparently, no longer using.
At least this time, she’d used boxes instead of garbage bags.
I sighed and started unpacking.
* * *
The next day, I woke up to the noise of a pool party.
Couldn’t really mistake those sounds for anything but what they were.
I’d gone out for drinks the night before with Lucas, then ended up meeting up with Ash and his girl, and staying out til the middle of the night. Barhopping, then hanging back at Ash and Danica’s place, smoking weed.
As I blinked my eyes open and checked my phone, it was close to eleven in the morning.
I could hear the splashing as people did cannonballs off the diving board, the laughter, the music…
Fucking chick rap.
Shayla.
I groaned. What the fuck now?
I rolled over and stretched. I was kinda hungover. Foggy. Really wasn’t used to smoking that much pot.