The Last Virgin Standing

Chapter 32: Happy Meals and Second Chances

Chapter 32: Happy Meals and Second Chances

Saturday rolled around and so did the tires on Tyler's car, all the way to my driveway. The sound of the doorbell rang throughout the house, waking both me and Luke up. We were up until three last night and by the time he decided it was time to go to sleep, there was no point in him walking five feet back to his house.

"Who is that?" Luke mumbled, rubbing his eyes irritability.

"I don't know," I yawned, snuggling deeper into my pillow.

Luke sat up. "Want me to get it?"

I sighed heavily. "No, I should get it. It's my house."

"All right. If you insist." Then he tugged the covers away from me, smacking his lips.

When I heard the insistent ringing echo throughout the house again, I willed myself out of my bubble of warmth and padded to the door. I passed Dad's room on the way. He was snoozing the day away, his sporadic snores and heavy breathing causing me to snicker. Without bothering to check the peephole in the door, I haphazardly threw it open to reveal an unapologetic looking Tyler.

The sight of him made me feel miffed. My body  stiffened instantly. "What are you doing here?"

"Look, I know you're probably mad at me."

"Mad? Mad? You stood me up, Tyler."

"Summers, look, I can--"

"My name is Charlotte," I hissed.

"And your last name is Summers. Anyways, identity crisis aside, I came to explain why I wasn't here yesterday. I didn't stand you up, not really."

"Is this explanation going to be long?" I asked, tapping my foot impatiently and rubbing the goosebumps on my arms in an attempt to generate friction and heat. "You know what? Just come in."

I ushered him into the living room after gesturing for him to stomp the snow off of his shoes. He situated himself on the chair opposite the loveseat. I snatched the blanket off of the arm of the couch, shook it open, and covered myself with it. The cold, harsh fabric briefly scratched against my skin. "All right. Explain yourself."

"I was in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I really don't want to talk about it, so can we just leave it at that?"

"Tyler, I was waiting for hours."

"And I'm sorry about that, but I had more...pressing matters to attend to."

"Tyler," I sighed, "are you still in trouble?"

"I think I've handled it."

I really wanted to know what sort of trouble he had gotten himself into. Knowing Tyler, it was probably risky business, dealing with drug dealers or something like that. According to books I had read, it was safe to assume that whatever problems he had would be passed onto me. I would get caught up in whatever danger he was facing. The question was whether or not I wanted to embrace the exhilaration  that came with being with Tyler or if I wanted to drop him like a hot potato like I had done with Alec and Beckett. While I wasn't suicidal and I enjoyed living, people became tangled in these sort of things all the time. It's what life was: sorting out the complications even if you've brought them on yourself.

"All right. I trust you."

Saying those three words, rather just one because  I used "I" and "you" on a daily basis,  to him might prove to be another mistake I was making, but I did trust him. As far as I knew, he never lied to me. In fact, he was the only one who was brutally honest with me, aside from Ian's outburst earlier. He didn't care if my feelings got hurt, just as long as he was able to speak his mind.