Beautiful Oblivion

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I SAID I WAS SORRY,” T. J. SAID, STARING AT ME FROM UNDER his brow.

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re a little upset.”

“No. I’m really not,” I said, rolling a piece of my Marinated Steak Salad around on my plate.

“You don’t like the salad?”

“No, I do,” I said, acutely aware of my facial expressions and every movement I made. It was exhausting trying to prove I wasn’t pouting. T.J. didn’t get home until after eight thirty, and he didn’t text or call the entire time. Not even when he was on his way home.

“Want to try some of my fish?” He was within two bites of finishing his Alaskan Sea Bass, but pushed his plate forward. I shook my head. Everything smelled wonderful, but I just didn’t feel like eating, and it had nothing to do with T.J.

We were at a corner table, against the far wall of T.J.’s favorite neighborhood restaurant, Brooklyn Girl. The gray walls and simple but modern décor looked a lot like his apartment. Clean, everything in its place, and yet inviting.

T.J. sighed and sat back against his chair. “This isn’t going how I wanted at all.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “I work fifty hours a week, Camille. I just don’t have time for . . .”

“Me,” I said finishing the cringeworthy sentence for him.

“Anything. I barely see my family. I talk to you more than I do them.”

“Thanksgiving?”

“It’s looking more likely as this assignment moves forward.”

I offered a small smile. “I don’t mind that you were late. I know you work long hours. I knew I wouldn’t see you much when I got here.”

“But you came,” he said, reaching across the table for my hand.

I sat back, putting my hands in my lap. “But I can’t drop everything every time you decide you want to see me.”

His shoulders fell, but he was still smiling. For whatever reason, he was amused. “I know. And that’s fair.”

I leaned forward again to poke at my salad with the fork. “He came to the airport.”

“Trenton?”

I nodded.

T.J. was quiet for a long time, and then he finally spoke. “What’s going on with you two?”

I squirmed in my seat. “I told you. We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“What kind of time together?”

I frowned. “We watch TV. We sit around and talk. We go out to eat. We work together.”

“Work together?”

“At Skin Deep.”

“You quit the Red? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t quit. Coby had some trouble paying bills. I took a second job until he got back on his feet.”

“I’m sorry. About Coby.”

I nodded, not really wanting to get too far into that subject.

“Did Trenton do that?” he asked, lowering his chin and looking at my fingers.

I nodded.

He took in a deep breath, just as he was taking in the reality of the situation. “So you mean you spend a lot of time together.”

I winced. “Yes.”

“Has he spent the night?”

I shook my head. “No. But we . . . he . . .”

T.J. nodded. “Kissed you. You mentioned that. Is he seeing anyone?”

“Just me, mostly.”

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “Has he been to the Red?”

“Yes. But no more than usual. Maybe even less.”

“Still taking girls home?” he said, half joking.

“No.”

“No?” he asked, surprised.

“Not at all. Not since . . .”

“He started pursuing you.” I shook my head again. T.J. looked down. “Wow.” He laughed once in disbelief. “Trenton’s in love.” He looked up at me. “With you.”

“You act surprised. You loved me once, you know.”

“I still do.”

I closed my eyes tight. “How? How could you possibly feel that way after everything I’ve just told you?”

He kept his voice low. “I know I’m not good for you right now, Camille. I can’t be there for you like you need me to be, and probably can’t for a long time. It’s hard to blame you when I know that our relationship is based on sporadic phone calls and texts.”

“But you told me that when we met. You said it would be this way, and I told you that it was okay. That I was willing to make it work.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Sticking to your word?” T.J. searched my eyes for a moment, and then sighed. He drank the last bit of his white wine, and then set the empty glass down on the side of his plate.

“Do you love him?”

I froze for a moment, feeling like a cornered animal. He’d been giving me the third degree since the server set our dinner on the table, and I was becoming emotionally exhausted. Seeing him for the first time, and then being alone with my thoughts all day . . . it was too much. I was a runner without anywhere to go. My flight didn’t leave until the next morning. Finally, I covered my face with my hands. Once I closed my eyes, the tears were pushed over my lower lids and down my cheeks.

T.J. sighed. “I’m going to say that’s a yes.”

“You know how you know you love someone? You get that feeling that doesn’t go away. I still feel that for you.”

“I feel the same way. But I always knew this would be too hard on you.”

“People do it all the time.”

“Yes, but they talk more than eight or nine times a month.”

“So you knew it was over? Why bring me out here, then? To tell me it was okay that I couldn’t make it work?”

“I thought maybe if you were here, with me, we could both get a sense of what was really going on with you—if it was just too hard because we hadn’t seen each other in a while, or if you really had feelings for Trenton.”

I began to cry into my napkin again. I suspected people were surely staring, but I didn’t dare look up to check. “This is so humiliating,” I said, trying not to sob.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s just us.”

I lowered my hands just enough to look around. He was right. We were the last two customers in the restaurant. I was so preoccupied, I hadn’t even noticed.

“Can I get anything else for you, sir?” the server said. I didn’t have to see her face to know she was curious about what was going on at our table.

“Bring us the bottle,” T.J. said.

“Of the white?”

“Of the white,” T.J. said in his confident, smooth voice.

“Y-yes, sir,” she said. I could hear her shoes tap the floor as she walked away.

“Aren’t they closing soon?”

“Not for twenty minutes. We can kill a bottle by then, right?”

“Not a problem,” I said, faking amusement. At the moment, all I felt was sad, guilty, and ashamed.

His small, contrived smile faded. “You’re leaving tomorrow. We don’t need to make any decisions tonight. Or even tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy our time together.” He reached across the table, and intertwined his fingers in mine.

After a moment’s pause, I pulled away. “I think we both already know what’s happened.”

With sadness in his eyes, T.J. nodded.

My eyes popped open when the airplane wheels touched down, and I looked around, seeing everyone around me pulling out their cell phones and texting friends, family, or colleagues about their arrival. I didn’t bother turning my phone back on. Raegan would be at her parents’, and my family didn’t even know I’d been gone.

T.J. and I went to bed as soon as we got back to the town house the night before, knowing we both had to be up before sunrise to get me to the airport on time. He held me in his arms all night like he didn’t want to let me go, but the next morning at the airport, he hugged and kissed me good-bye like he meant it. It was forced, and sad, and distant.

I pushed the Smurf’s gearshift into Park, and stepped out onto the asphalt. Part of me hoped Trenton would be sitting on the cement in front of my door, but he wasn’t.

San Diego had been nearly balmy, and now I was back where my breath was visible. The air actually hurt my face. How does air hurt your face?

I unlocked the door, pushed through it, let it slam behind me, and then trudged to my bedroom, falling face-first into my wonderfully messy bed.

Raegan padded down the hall in her bare feet. “How was it?” she asked from the doorway.

“I don’t know.”

The floor creaked under her as she walked to my bed and sat next to me. “Are you still together?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well . . . that’s good, right? I mean, even though T.J. hadn’t spoken to you until Trent kissed you, and suddenly he bought you a ticket to California . . .”

“Not tonight, Ray.”

“Trenton came by the Red tonight. He looked pretty awful.”

“Yeah? Did he leave with anyone?” I peeked out from the pillow.

Raegan hesitated. “Right before last call. He was sloppy drunk.”

I nodded, and then buried my face in the pillow.

“Just . . . tell him,” Raegan pleaded. “Tell him about T.J.”

“I can’t,” I said. “And you can’t, either. You promised.”

“I still don’t understand what all the secrecy is about.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, looking up at her, straight into her eyes. “You just have to keep the secret.”

Raegan nodded. “I will.”

It seemed like I’d barely closed my eyes when Raegan was shaking me awake.

I groaned.

“You’re going to be late for work, Cami! Get your ass up!”

I didn’t budge.

“You just took off two days, last-minute. Cal is going to fire your ass! Get up!” She clasped her hands around my ankle and dragged me until I fell off the bed, hard.

“Ow! Damn it, Ray!”

She leaned down. “It’s eleven thirty! Get up!”

I looked at the clock and then jumped up, racing around my bedroom and swearing repeatedly. Barely brushing my teeth, I resorted to a bun and glasses. The Smurf didn’t want to wake up, either, and she whirred like a dying cat before finally starting up.

The clock on the wall at Skin Deep said 12:07 when I walked through the door. Hazel was already on the phone, and Calvin stood next to her, frowning.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he asked.

I looked down at my plum skinny jeans and black-and-white horizontal-striped long-sleeved shirt. “Clothes.”

“I hired you to be the hot piece of ass at the counter, and you look like my cousin Annette. What is this look?” he asked Hazel.

“Hipster,” she said briefly before returning to her conversation.

“Yeah. Like my hipster cousin Annette. Next time you come in, I want to see cleavage and sex hair!” he said, holding up one finger, and then two.

“What the hell is sex hair?” I asked.

Calvin shrugged. “You know. Messy, but sexy. Like you just had sex.”

Hazel slammed the phone down. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is offensive. Hot piece of ass? Cleavage? You’re a walking sexual harassment lawsuit!”

Calvin wasn’t fazed.

“Is it the shoes?” I asked, looking down at my favorite black combat boots.

“The scarf!” he said, pointing all four fingers at me. “What is the point in having a nice rack if you’re going to cover it up?”

Hazel smiled. “It’s a cute scarf. I need a black one like yours.”

Calvin frowned. “It’s not cute! I don’t want cute! I hired a sexy, edgy bartender, and I got a hipster in a bun with no tattoos! I can handle you taking off and coming in whenever the fuck you feel like it, but it’s just wrong walking around here with a clean palette for skin. It looks bad if our own employees don’t trust us enough to ink them!”

“Are you about finished?” Hazel deadpanned. She looked at me. “He started his period this morning.”

“Fuck you, Hazel!” Calvin snapped, stomping down the hall to his office.

“Fuck you back!” she yelled.

Calvin poked his head around the corner. “Has Bishop been in?”

“Godammit, Cal, no! For the third time today, he hasn’t been in!” Calvin nodded, and then disappeared again. Hazel frowned for half a second before turning to me with a smile.

“I think I’ll show him my fingers today. Might take the edge off.”

“No way,” she said. “Let him stew.” She was quiet for a minute, clearly working up to something, and then she elbowed me. “So. California.”

“Yeah,” I said, cocking my head while I pulled my purse over it. I tossed my bag on the counter and then logged onto the computer. “About that . . .”

The door chimed, and Trenton walked in, wearing a puffy navy-blue coat and a dirty white ball cap that was pulled low, shadowing his eyes. “Morning, ladies,” he said, walking past us.

“Morning, sunshine,” Hazel said, watching him pass.

He disappeared into his room, and Hazel shot me a look. “You mind-fucked him so hard.”

I sighed. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s good for him. No man should get every woman he wants. Keeps their douchebaggery to a tolerable level.”

“I’m just going to . . .” I said, pointing down the hall. Hazel nodded.

Trenton was busy setting up his equipment when I walked into the room. Crossing my arms and leaning against the doorjamb while he ignored me was acceptable for the first few minutes, but then I began to feel stupid.

“Are you ever going to speak to me again?” I asked.

He kept his eyes on his equipment, and laughed once. “Sure, baby doll. I’ll talk to you. What’s up?”

“Calvin says I need more ink.”

“Do you want more ink?”

“Only if you do it.”

He still didn’t look at me. “I don’t know, Cami, I’ve got a pretty full day.”

I watched him for a moment while he busied himself with organizing white packages full of various sanitized tools. “Just sometime. Doesn’t have to be today.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem,” he said, picking through a drawer.

After another minute of Trenton pretending I wasn’t there, I walked back to the vestibule. He had been truthful. He had one customer after another, but even when he had a little time in between, he only came to the counter once, and that was to chat with a potential new client. The rest of the day he stayed in his room, or talked to Calvin in his office. Hazel didn’t seem concerned with his behavior, but she never seemed to be unsettled by anything.

Trenton didn’t come into the Red that night, and the next day was another six hours of Operation Ignore Cami, as was the next day, and every day after that for three weeks. I spent a lot more time on papers and studying. Raegan was spending more time with Brazil, so I was grateful when Coby popped over for a visit one Monday evening.

Identical bowls of steaming chicken noodle soup sat on the breakfast bar between us.

“You look better,” I said.

“I feel better. You were right, a program made it easier.”

“How are things at home?” I asked.

Coby shrugged. “The same.”

I picked at the noodles swimming around in my bowl. “He’s never going to change, you know.”

“I know. Just trying to get my shit together so I can get my own place.”

“Good idea,” I said, taking a bite.

“Let’s take these to the couch and watch a movie,” Coby said.

I nodded, and Coby set my bowl next to him on the cushion while I looked through DVD cases. My breath caught when I came across Spaceballs. Trenton had left it here the last time we’d watched it.

“What?” Coby asked.

“Trent left a movie over here.”

“Where’s he been? I figured he’d be over here.”

“He doesn’t really . . . come over here anymore.”

“You guys broke up?”

“We were just friends, Coby.”

“No one thinks that but you.”

I looked up at him, and then trudged to the love seat, picking up my bowl and then sitting next to my brother. “He doesn’t want me.”

“He did.”

“Not anymore. I fucked up.”

“How?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s a long, boring story.”

“Anything to do with the Maddoxes is never boring.” He spooned the soup into his mouth, and then waited. He was like a different person when he was clean. He cared about things. He listened.

“We’d been spending pretty much every day together.”

“I know that part.”

I sighed. “He kissed me. It freaked me out. Then he told me he loved me.”

“Both horrible, very bad things,” he said, nodding.

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Sorry.”

“They are very bad things. T.J. booked me a flight to California after I told him about the kiss.”

“Makes complete sense from a man’s perspective.”

“Trent begged me not to go. He told me he loved me at the airport, and I walked away.” My eyes filled with tears as my mind replayed the scene, and I remembered the look on Trenton’s face. “While I was out there, T.J. and I figured out that we loved each other, but there was just no way to make it work.”

“So, you broke up?”

“Kind of. Not really.”

“C’mon, Camille. You’re adults. If it was implied . . .”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, rolling a diced carrot around in the broth. “Trent barely speaks to me. He hates me.”

“Have you told him what happened in California?”

“No. What am I supposed to say. ‘T.J. doesn’t want me, so you can have me, now’?”

“Is that what it is?”

“No. I mean, kind of, but Trenton’s not the next best thing. I don’t want him to feel that way. And even if he somehow forgave me, there’s always the fact that it would be completely wrong to go from one to the other.”

“They’re big boys, Cami. They’ll work it out.”

We finished our food in silence, and then Coby took my bowl and rinsed it in the sink. “I’ve gotta head out. I just wanted to bring you this.” He pulled a check from his wallet.

“Thanks,” I said. My eyes widened when I saw the amount. “You didn’t have to pay it back all at once.”

“I got a second job. It’s not putting me behind.”

I hugged him. “I love you. I’m so proud of you, and I’m so glad that you’re going to be okay.”

“We’re all going to be okay. You’ll see,” he said with a small grin.

The following Saturday, Trenton walked into Skin Deep an hour late, red faced and rushed. His dad’s truck had broken down and he’d tried to get it up and running. Trenton wasn’t forthcoming with the information. Like finding out everything else about Trenton since California, I had to ask Hazel.

By the end of the first week of November, T.J. had only called once to say that he was in town for work but he wouldn’t be able to say hi, and Trenton and I had barely spoken. He had come to the Red a handful of times, getting his drinks from Raegan, Blia, or Jorie, and every night, just before last call, he could be seen walking out with a different girl.

I tried not to behave differently at Skin Deep. Technically, I didn’t need the second job, but I liked working there and the extra money, and I enjoyed seeing Trenton too much to quit, even if he was ignoring me.

It was easy to fool Calvin, but Hazel knew all. She would spend time with Trenton in his room, and then wink at me when she came out. I wasn’t sure if she meant to be reassuring or she thought we shared some inside information that I wasn’t privy to.

The door chimed, and in walked Travis and Shepley.

“Hi, boys.” I smiled.

“Are you lending your beauty to every dive in town?” Travis asked, firing off his most charming smile.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” I said. “What can we do for you today?”

“Don’t ask,” Shepley said. He was most definitely not in a good mood.

“I’m getting a couple of tats. Where is that shit-stain brother of mine?”

Trenton poked his head out of his room. “Asshat!”

I checked Travis in, and once he signed the forms, the Maddoxes walked back to Trenton’s room.

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Trenton yelled, howling with laughter. “You’re such a pussy!”

“Shut up, cocksucker, and just do it!”

Hazel walked into the hall and stood in Trenton’s doorway. Soon she was laughing, too. The tattoo machine began to buzz, and over the next hour, Trenton’s room was full of laughter and playful insults.

When they met back up at the counter, Travis had a bandage over his wrist. He was beaming. Shepley was not.

“This has fucked me so many ways,” he grumbled.

Trenton slapped and then gripped Shepley’s shoulders. “Oh, Shep. It’s going to be okay. Travis will work his magic, and Abby will be fine with it.”

“Abby? I’m talking about America!” he said. “What if she’s pissed because I didn’t brand myself with her name? What if Abby’s not fine with it, she dumps Travis, and then it causes problems with Mare and me? I’m fucked!”

The brothers laughed, and Shepley mocked them, clearly not amused with their lack of concern.

Trenton smiled at his baby brother. “I’m happy for ya.”

Travis couldn’t contain the broad smile that lit his entire face. “Thanks, asshole.” A shoulder-to-shoulder bro hug commenced, and then Travis and Shepley loaded into the Charger and left.

Trenton was smiling when he turned around, but the moment his eyes fell on me, it faded, and he walked back to his room.

I sat alone at the desk, listening to his and Hazel’s whispering. I stood up and walked back to his room. He was just wiping off the chair. Hazel sat up straight, her eyes meeting Trenton’s and then looking to me to signal that I was there.

“What are you guys whispering about?” I asked, trying to smile.

“Isn’t my next client coming in soon?” Hazel asked.

I looked at the small metal clock on the wall. “Eleven minutes. Trent, you don’t have an appointment anytime soon. Barring any walk-ins, it would be a good time to start the outline for that tat we talked about a while back.”

He looked at me while he cleaned, and then shook his head. “I can’t today, Cami.”

“Why not?” I asked.

Hazel strolled out, letting us be alone.

Trenton reached over and dug into the candy bowl sitting on the counter closest to him. He unwrapped a small sucker and popped it in his mouth. “Jason said he might come in this afternoon around now if he got out of practice on time.”

I frowned. “Just say you don’t want to, Trent. Don’t lie.” I walked off, and sat on the stool behind the front desk in a huff. Not ten minutes later, a truck pulled into the parking lot, and Jason Brazil breezed through the door. “Is Trent busy?” he asked.

I hunched over and sank back into my seat. My entire face felt like it had caught fire as the adrenaline from pure humiliation burned through my veins.

“You okay?” Brazil asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s back there.”

Day after day Trenton ignored me, but I didn’t dare confront him after that. It was particularly hurtful because his rapport with Hazel hadn’t changed, and he was more than chatty with Raegan when he came to the Red. He was deliberately giving me the cold shoulder, and I hated it.

The second Saturday in November, Trenton strolled into the Red alone and sat at his new favorite stool in front of Raegan. She was busy with her regular, Marty, but Trenton sat there patiently, not once looking over to me for service. My heart sank. The past weeks of being around Trenton had taught me an appreciation for the misery Kody went through every Wednesday through Sunday night since he and Raegan had broken up. I looked over to Kody, seeing him glance in Raegan’s direction with sad eyes. He did that dozens of times every night.

My regular, Baker, had a full, frosted mug, so I walked over to Raegan’s side of the bar, popped the top off Trenton’s favorite beer, and handed it to him.

He nodded once and then reached for it, but something came over me, and I yanked it away.

Trenton’s eyes popped up to meet mine for less than a second, a combination of shock and confusion on his face.

“Okay, Maddox. It’s been five weeks.”

“Five weeks of what?” Trenton asked.

“Miller Lite!” a guy called from behind Trenton. I acknowledged him with a nod, and then lowered my chin at Trenton, crossing my arms and letting his beer bottle sit snugly in the crook of my arm.

“Five weeks of pretending,” I said.

Trenton looked behind him on each side, and everywhere but at me. He shook his head a couple of times. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay. So you hate me.” The words felt like poison coming out of my mouth. “Want me to quit Skin Deep?”

“What?” he said, finally looking at me for the first time in weeks.

“I can do it if that’s what you need.”

“Why would you quit?” he asked.

“You answer my question, first.”

“What question?”

“Do you hate me?”

“Cami, I could never hate you. Even if I wanted to. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

His face screwed into disgust. He started to speak, and then changed his mind. He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

I pulled it from between his fingers and broke it in half.

“C’mon, Cami!”

“I’m sorry, okay? Can we at least talk about this?”

“No!” he said, getting more agitated by the second. “What’s the fucking point?”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You walked away from me, Cami.”

“I don’t deserve for you to talk to me, I get it. I’ll give Cal my notice tomorrow.”

Trenton’s face contorted. “That’s fucking stupid.”

“We’re both miserable. I don’t like it any more than you do, but what’s stupid is being around each other when we don’t have to be.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. I tried to choke back the lump that formed in my throat, but instead it just got bigger and tears began to form in my eyes.

He reached out for me. “Can I have my beer now?”

I laughed once, in disbelief. “You wanted a reaction when you kissed me and you got one.”

“If I’d known you were going to get on a flight to California and fuck someone else a few hours later, I might have reconsidered.”

“Do you really want to keep track of who’s fucked who lately?” I sat his beer down and began to walk back to my station.

“I’m trying to handle this!”

I flipped around. “Well, you’re sucking at it!”

Raegan was staring at us, along with everyone else within shouting distance.

“You saw Travis on Halloween! He’s out of control over this girl! She left the morning after he bagged her the first time without telling him good-bye, and he trashed his fucking apartment! Trust me, I would love to bash something or someone, but I don’t have that luxury, Cami. I have to keep it together! I don’t need you judging me about what I do to keep my mind off of you!”

“Don’t make excuses. Especially not stupid ones, it’s just insulting.”

“You . . . I . . . fucking shit lord, Camille! I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“Why would I want that? You’re my best friend!” I felt a tear fall down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away.

“Because you’re back with Califucktard!”

“Back with him? If you would just talk to me, we could clear this up. We could—”

“Not that you’ve ever been with him,” he grumbled, swiping the bottle off the bar. He took a swig, muttering something under his breath.

“What?” I snapped.

“I said if you like being a backup plan, that’s fine with me!”

“Miller Lite, Cami!” the guy yelled again, this time less patient.

I glared at Trenton. “Backup plan? Are you fucking kidding me right now? All you deal in is backup plans! How many of those have you walked out of here with in the last month?”

Trenton’s cheeks flushed. He stood up, kicking the stool backward, sending it flying almost all the way to the dance floor. “You’re not a fucking backup plan, Cami! Why are you letting someone treat you like one?”

“He’s not treating me like anything! I haven’t spoken to him in weeks!”

“Oh, so now that he’s ignoring you, I’m good enough to be your friend?”

“I’m sorry, I thought we were already friends!”

“Miller Lite! Will one of you do your damn job?” the guy yelled again.

Trenton turned around, and pointed in the guy’s face. “You talk to her like that again, and I’m going to knock you the fuck out.”

Beginning with a wry smile, the guy began to say something more, but Trenton didn’t give him the chance. He lunged, grabbing the guy by the collar. They fell to the floor, and I lost sight of them. A crowd quickly formed a tight circle around the spot where they went down, and after a few seconds, Trenton’s audience flinched, covered their mouths, and shouted “Oh!” in unison.

Within seconds, Kody and Gruber descended upon them. Suddenly Trenton was standing and looking as if he’d never been in a fight. He wasn’t even breathing hard. He walked back to his beer and took a drink. His T-shirt was ripped a few inches at the collar, and his neck and cheek were spattered with blood.

Gruber wrestled Trenton’s victim out the side entrance, and Kody stood next to Trenton, out of breath.

“Sorry, Trent. You know the rules. I gotta ask you to leave.”

Trenton nodded once, took one last swig, and then walked away. Kody followed him out. I opened my mouth to call to him but wasn’t sure what else to say.

Raegan stood beside me. “Whoa.”