I just shrug, because I don’t really, either. “That’s what friends are for, right?” Although May and I aren’t really friends. She’s four or five years younger than I am. We didn’t overlap at the high school, although I saw more than enough of her brother.

May reaches over and puts a hand on my forearm. “Well…I really appreciate it. When I straighten my head out a little bit, I’ll make you an apple pie as a thank-you note.”

“See? I knew I was helping the right person.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

THIRTY-EIGHT

The Shots you never take

May

Sitting here on the passenger seat of Alec Rossi’s truck, I’m struggling to make sense of what just happened. Watching Daniela kiss someone else? That hurt so much.

I feel like someone took a bucket of very cold mud and threw it over my whole life. It’s both sobering and messy. And there’s no chance that tonight was some kind of strange aberration. Daniela has been distant for weeks. I suspected she was keeping something from me but I just didn’t know what.

Also, my fight-or-flight reaction had startled me almost as much as catching Daniela cheating. Red-hot anger had sluiced through my veins as I stormed toward their table. And when my hand met Tracy’s face, it had made a sharp, bright sound.

I’m embarrassed by how good it had felt, and how not sorry I feel now. I’m embarrassed about a lot of things, actually. How naively I gave myself to Daniela, in spite of her bad behavior. How vulnerable I made myself to this kind of pain.

And it happened in front of Alec Rossi of all people. When I was thirteen, I’d had the biggest crush on him. I used to sit at the top of the bleachers at my brother’s football games and watch Alec making time with the girls his age. They’d tossed their hair and preened and laughed, doing anything for a little scrap of his attention.

I can’t believe that Alec Rossi just witnessed my life exploding. It’s like the frosting on a cake made of awfulness. When I think of how it must have looked to him, a little groan escapes me.

“You okay over there?” he asks from behind the wheel.

“Sure. Just trying to get over my shock.”

“I’ll bet. I spotted them about a half hour before you came in. Wasn’t sure what to think about it.”

“Really? You recognized Daniela?” I’m a little stunned that he knows who my girlfriend is.

Was. Damn it.

“Yeah. A good bartender never forgets a face. I’m sorry to say that they were in the bar last week, too. And I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you guys were still together. But tonight I took this photo because I was going to try to figure it out and maybe tell you.” He steers to the side of the road, pulls his phone out of the cupholder, and unlocks it. Then he passes it to me.