Meant to Marry Me

Chapter 13: Tears in Beers

"What the hell was that?" Heather demanded as Trent came back to where he'd left her standing in the

doorway of the convenience store.

"That was a fist bump," he explained. "Now… if you'll excuse me… I need a Gatorade." NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

"But… did you just stop here because you saw her car?" Heather followed him, the tone of her voice

grating on his last nerve.

"No, I stopped here to get a Gatorade." He pulled his beverage of choice out of the refrigerated section.

"Would you like something?"

"But we're almost at your parents' house. Couldn't you have waited?"

“They don’t have any. Do you want something or not, Heather? You’re making a big deal out of nothing.

Bree and I are just friends. Have you ever even heard me say her name before?”

“No, but that’s probably because she’s in love with you. “ Heather followed him to the counter where

she plopped a Diet Coke down next to his Gatorade and the clerk rang them up.

“What in the world makes you say that?”

“I saw the way she was looking at you,” Heather explained. “All goo-goo eyed.”

Trent sighed loudly, took his change and his drink, and headed to his truck. He climbed in and started it

before Heather got in. Once she’d climbed inside, he said, “I don’t think so, Heather. We’ve been

friends since we were in elementary school. Nothing more.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone told her that.”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s going to a birthday party. We’re going to play cards with my grandparents. She

doesn’t even live in town anymore.”

“I guess it was pure luck that you ran into her while she was in town, then, huh? Do you have her

number in your phone?”

“No.”

“Let me see.”

“Seriously?”

“You haven’t got anything to hide, right?”

Shaking his head at how psycho Heather suddenly sounded, he pulled into his parents’ driveway,

unlocked his phone, and handed it to her. He didn’t have Bree’s new number, and he’d deleted the old

one.

Heather scrolled through it. When she was satisfied she knew who all of his contacts were, she handed

it back. “Don’t talk to her anymore, okay?”

“Okay.” Trent agreed only because he thought he’d likely not be talking to Heather anymore--after this

visit was over.

* * *

At the party, Bree was tossing back beers a little faster than she should be. At least she wasn’t driving

home that night. Christy had invited her to spend the night, so she wouldn’t be driving anywhere.

“Dude, I’ve never seen you drink so fast,” Hank said, coming over and dropping down next to her on a

log situated on the perimeter of Christy’s parents’ large back yard.

“Sorry. I’m just… missing Sam, that’s all.”

‘“Oh, your man?”

“Yeah.” Hank had had a few too many to drink as well.

“I hear you. I like this chick at school, but she won’t date me. She says I’m a fun guy, but I’m not the

sort of guy she sees in her future. She wants a professional. Man, she’s so damn hot. And the sex….”

“Okay….”

“Sorry. It’s just… I hate that she doesn’t want me, you know? But personal training is my life! That’s

what I wanna do. I’m so passionate about it. Just because it’s not one of those jobs you tell your dad

about doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna make a good living.”

“I get it. People say the same thing about my music. They say I should get my teaching degree, teach

music to high schoolers, instead of playing it myself.”

“Can’t you do both?”

“Sure, I could. But… I don’t want to. I want to make a living from my music. To move to Nashville and

become a recording artist.”

“That would be so cool. I could tell everyone I knew you back when you weren’t famous yet. Hey, you

could post about my personal training gigs. Maybe I can drum up some business.”

“Sure. Anything I can do to help a friend.”

“You’re awesome, Bree. I love you.”

She giggled. “I love you, too, Hank. Boy, are you drunk. I really hope everything works out between you

and that chick, too.”

“Thanks. Me, too. Mon is the best. She’s so pretty…. Maybe someday she’ll come to her senses and

realize we’re just meant to be.”

Bree smiled at him and decided not to drink any more that night. Hank was wasted--his head was going

to hurt tomorrow. She’d just as soon hers didn’t.

“Anything for a friend….” she mumbled again. It was unfortunate that friends seemed to come and go

pretty easily. She knew the second she’d bumped Trent’s fist their friendship, and anything else they

might’ve ever had, was over.

Part of her wanted to sob uncontrollably at losing him for good, but the rest of her knew it was a long

time coming. At least seeing him had allowed her to find a bit of closure, and that was better than

nothing.