Girl on Track

36| Seed of doubt

Those three words rattle in my ears. It's me that she's looking at, me she's directing her accusatory question, which is what makes this all the more harder. She expects this of Tyler, that much is clear, but not me.

"What is this, Roxy?" Her words are half masked by a low rumble in the sky, but I still catch the hurt in her voice.

I try to say something but my mouth feels like cotton. "Alex," I manage after several long seconds. "I can explain."

"Explain?" she repeats. She gestures wildly at the two of us together, her face the picture of disgust. "I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

My eyes flit to Tyler, expecting him to look just as guilty as I feel, but instead, he looks annoyed. He protectively steps in front of me, right into Alex's line of fire. "Who Roxy hangs out with is none of your business."

"It is when it involves you," she snaps. She crosses the last few feet of track left between them and cranes her neck to look at him. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you? She was the one friend I had left in this town, the only one you hadn't hooked up with. Do you know how hard it is losing friends because of something your brother did to them?"

I try to inhale, but seeing her like this when she's usually so fierce leaves a lump in the back of my throat. I can't blame her for it, either – I'm sure if I had a brother that acted like Tyler, I would probably hate him, too.

The hardness in Tyler's eyes seems to dissipate a little. He takes another step, his hand outstretched the way one might approach a skittish horse. "Lex, I'm sorry."

"Yeah," she says, pointing to me, "you look sorry. You're just like Dad, you know that?"

Another low rumble rattles the sky, this time followed by a blast of cold wind. Any second now and the sky will open up, releasing a torrent of rain.

"I'm not," Tyler growls. His voice comes out sharp above the battering wind, but she's already gone. 

The rain is coming in buckets now, lashing at my face. I want to chase after her, to scream that it's not what she thinks, but it is. It's exactly what she thinks.

Guilt gnaws my insides as Tyler reaches for my hand, but I take a step back. "I should get to work," I say. There's a sharpness to my voice that I didn't intend, and his face falls a little.

"Roxy," he says, but I don't turn around. I'm picking up my helmet when his hand catches mine, drawing me into his chest. "You have nothing to feel sorry for. She'll get over it."

"And what if she doesn't?" I ask.

His eyes grow black as they take my face, his expression unreadable. "This is on me, not you. I'll fix it."

My eyes find his, and it's hard not to reach out and touch him. He's soaked to the bone, his dark hair clinging to his forehead in tendrils, but he doesn't let go of my hand.

I turn away and attempt to shift my focus to the cafe in the distance. She'll be back there by now, preparing to get through a shift while hurting inside, which is no easy feat, and it's all because of us.  When I face him again, he's running a palm down his face to get rid of the last remaining raindrops. 

Indecision wars inside of me. Danger signs are flashing, screaming at me to heed Alex's warning before I get myself hurt, but my heart is reluctant to listen. The truth is, despite the fact my friendship with Alex is now on the rocks, I can't bring myself to walk away.

"I should go," I say finally. "I'm late for my shift."

"Roxy–"

"I can't," I say, my voice shaking. "I can't do this, Tyler."