Waste My Time by Kelsey Clayton

I've beento my fair share of formal events. My parent's vow renewal when I was a kid. My grandmother's funeral. My senior prom, which was a joke in itself. And still, no matter how many times I stand here and let the tailor fit me for a tux, it's super uncomfortable.

Zayn chuckles as he looks over at me from his platform. “Will you just relax?”

“Easy for you to say,” I bark back. “You have a female measuring you.”

The male on his knees in front of me rolls his eyes as he starts to measure up my inseam. My whole body tenses as he makes his way up the inner part of my leg. For a moment, I think he's stopped, but then he gets a little closer and I can't hold it in anymore.

“Ay! Watch where you put your hand there, bud,” I tell him. “I know I'm pretty, but I don't bat for your team.”

He drops the tape measure in a huff and stands up, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and unfolding a whole plethora of pictures. Family photos of him, a gorgeous woman with legs for days, and two little boys.

“I'm literally married to a supermodel,” he informs exasperatedly. “Trust me when I say that I'm enjoying this even less than you are. Now, if it's all right with you, I'd like to get this over with.”

I run my fingers through my hair and look anywhere but back at him. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

Z smirks at me. “You know, I think watching people put you in your place is my favorite hobby.”

“Fuck you, too, dick,” I grumble. “I bet Knox would be even worse if he were here.”

“Knox would refuse to let a male measure him, or a female for that matter. He would make Delaney do it while they tell her how.”

Since he's all the way across the country, Knox is getting fitted for his tux at a place in Rhode Island. They will then send his measurements here, and we will pick up all the formalwear the day before the wedding. It's the one job Amelia and Kennedy gave Zayn to do, and he refuses to disappoint them.

“So, how did he take it when you told him you're having two best men?” I ask. “I'm sure that didn't sit well with his narcissistic tendencies.”

“He threatened to kill you so he's the only one,” he answers casually.

My jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“No, you shit. He knows I couldn't choose between you two. As long as he stands directly behind me so he can be close to the center of attention, he doesn't care.”

“Typical Knox,” I laugh.

He nods. “Typical Knox.”

The tailor working on Zayn pulls him to the side to have him try on a couple jackets they already have in stock, and I watch as he stares at himself in the mirror, a glint in his eye I only see when he's looking at Amelia. It makes me wonder if I'll ever be doing this, and more specifically, if I'll ever be doing this for Kennedy.

Things have been better with her lately, or at least as better as can be expected. She doesn't look like she wants to run in the opposite direction every time she sees me, and she texted me a screenshot of an app yesterday that showed what size fruit the baby compares to right now. It's crazy to know that my kid is growing inside her, but as scared as I might be, I couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else.

“All right,” the man who just had his hand too close to my balls says. “You're done. Go with your friend, and Tina will get you a jacket to try on.”

Thank fuck that's over.

I WAKE UP WITHan extra pep in my step as I head downstairs. Kennedy called last night and asked me to pick her up this morning for the doctor’s appointment. Apparently her car finally crapped out, which isn't a surprise. That thing is practically a dinosaur, and it's not like she ever took good care of it, but no part of me plans on telling her that.

“You look happy,” Amelia says as I come into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee.

Grabbing the pot, I can't help but smile to myself. “What's not to be happy about? I get to hear my baby's heartbeat today and see my girl. It's a good day.”

She hums over her own mug. “Not your girl, but okay.”

I turn toward her and level her with a look. “Do you take pride in ruining things for me?”

“I'm your sister. It's in my job description.”

“Whatever.” I shake it off. “Today is going to be great, and I won't let anyone ruin it for me. Including you.”

She giggles softly. “I'm not ruining anything. I'm happy for you. Promise.”

“Thanks, Mila.”

As I finish stirring my coffee in the travel mug, I look at the time and realize it's already a minute past the time I wanted to leave. “Shit. I've got to go.”

“Good luck!” my sister calls as I run out the door.

THANKFULLY, CAMPUS ISN'T THATfar away. It allows me time to stop at Kennedy's favorite little cafe and pick her up something to eat. If I know her like I think I do, she probably hasn't eaten anything this morning, and she's eating for two now.

I pull up outside the place and run inside, groaning at the long line. I consider leaving, but as I look at the time, I realize I still have a few minutes. I left early to allow time for this, and I really want to surprise her.

“Can I get a blueberry muffin and a decaf coffee please? Light and sweet.”

The barista nods and tells me my total while she starts preparing the order. I swipe my card and wait for her to hand everything over to me. Once she does, I spin on my heels and head for the door. What I see when I get outside, however, stops me in my tracks.

“No,” I breathe.

All four of my tires are completely flat, with the rims touching the ground.

“No, no, no. This can't be happening.”

This is the absolute last thing I need today. It's the one day Kennedy is relying on me. The one thing she is trusting me to do. If I fuck this up like I fucked up everything else, she's never going to talk to me again. I can't.

As I look behind my car, I see a bunch of shattered glass that I didn't notice when I pulled in. If I had, I would've gone around it. Fuck.

I take a deep breath and think for a second, then make a decision. Regardless of what I do, my car is fucked. And now I'm even further from Kennedy's dorm than I was before. I go to grab my phone out of the cupholder inside my car, but it’s gone.

What the fuck?

“Can I use your phone?” I ask the woman walking by but she just gives me a strange look and keeps walking.

Rushing back inside the café, I beg the barista to let me use their phone. Thankfully, she relents and the first number I dial is Kennedy’s.

Voicemail.

I run my fingers through my hair and dial Amelia, only to get the ignore button there, too. Fuck! Why are we brought up in a generation where we don’t answer calls from numbers we don’t know?

With my head reeling to try and find a solution, I leave the café for the second time. It hits me when I get outside that there’s nothing left to do. The only choice I have is to make a run for it.

Tossing her coffee in the garbage, I take off in the direction of campus—sprinting as fast as I can.

IT TOOK FIFTEEN MINUTESto run to Kennedy's dorm, only to find she wasn't there. She left. Went without me. So, I did the only other thing I could do, and continued my way to the OBGYN's office. At least maybe if I made it there, she could forgive me for not picking her up. But of course, she couldn't have picked a place close by. Nope. She picked one almost ten miles away. Still, I run anyway.

I'm just getting to the doctor's office when I see Kennedy walk out the door, an hour and a half after her appointment time. I call her name while keeping the bag from the cafe tightly in hand. As she turns my way, I can already tell by the way she's looking at me—I'm done for.

“I should've known you'd do this,” she mutters.

I bend over, resting my hands on my knees and panting. “Let me explain. Please.”

“Explain what? That you didn't come because you changed your mind? Because you don't really want this baby?”

“No!” I all but yell. “I want this baby. I...”

Just then, Alec walks out of the doctor's office and puts his hand on Kennedy's lower back. “Sorry. Didn't expect to see my aunt in there. You ready to go?”

Kennedy looks back at Alec and gives him a kind smile. “Wait in the car for me?”

“Sure,” he says, giving me a once-over.

My brows furrow as I watch how he is with her. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“He was there for me when I needed him,” she sneers. “He never told me I should kill our baby. He never lied to me.”

I scoff. “Oh, so what? You're just going to fuck off and be with him then?”

“No! But at least he shows up when I need him to! You ditched me this morning!”

“I didn't!” I hold up the bag from the cafe. “I stopped to get you breakfast and when I came out, all four of my fucking tires were flat.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “And you didn't think to call? Let me know you weren't coming? Thank God Alec happened to be driving by and remembered I should've been at my appointment.”

“My phone was stolen by whoever—wait.” It all comes together. “He did this!”

“What?”

“That prick fucking did this!” My blood starts to boil as everything falls into place. “He fucking slashed my tires, stole my phone, and drove by your place because he knew I wouldn't be there to pick you up.”

She's already shaking her head before I'm even done talking. “You're unbelievable. You will blame literally everyone you can instead of taking the blame for your own wrongdoings.”

“That's not—”

“I'm not listening to this,” she cuts me off. “If you're not serious about this baby, then leave me alone and let me do what I need to do. My baby's life is not a revolving door for you to be in when it's convenient for you.”

Her words hit me in the chest, and I recoil from them. “I am serious.”

Exhaling, she shrugs sadly as she walks backward toward Alec's truck. “Could've fooled me.”

I watch as she climbs into the passenger seat and they drive away, leaving me standing here alone—with the bag containing Kennedy's muffin still in hand.

THE PARTY SWIRLS AROUNDme, but I can't find it in me to pay much attention. It's been three days since Kennedy has even looked my direction, let alone talked to me. All of my texts and phone calls have gone unanswered. The flowers I sent her were given to Amelia. And the two times I've tried showing up at her dorm, the security guard no longer let me in.

Her message is clear—she's done.

But I'm not.

I look around at the massive house that's entirely too big for the two people who live in it, though I wouldn't expect anything less from Carter. Everything about him screams wealth and power. His father is the district attorney, for fuck’s sake. Rumor has it, he's even running for mayor next year.

Just what Carter needs: an ego that grows with his father's occupation.

There's a DJ in one corner of the living room, and there's an actual catering company in the kitchen. The house is filled with people Carter couldn't name if his life depended on it, Alec included.

I don't know if Kennedy brought him as a dig at me or if there is something going on between them, but it's pissing me off. He hangs on every word she says, and while she's not giving off any of her tells that show she's interested, she's not ignoring him the way she's doing me.

“He looks like a tool,” Carter says as he appears by my side.

I snort. “He is, and so are you. What kind of housewarming party is this?”

He gives me a boyish grin, like he's a child who was given keys to a kingdom. “It's Trayland Style.”

“And Tye allowed this?”

His head gestures over to the other side of the room. “Who do you think suggested the waiters?”

Sure enough, there are people walking around with trays of hors d'oeuvres. I roll my eyes at the whole ordeal, but he's right. This is totally his style. I'm actually surprised he's spent all the time he has been slumming it at my and Zayn's parties. Though, that's probably because they're the biggest ones on campus. We even manage to beat out the fraternity houses.

“Well, I think it's sick,” Z tells him.

Carter pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. Where you been?”

“Jace was showing me his place,” he says, Jace stepping up beside him. “Leave it to you two assholes to buy houses next door to each other.”

Jace smirks. “Says the fucker who lives in a house with his best friend.”

“Okay,” I interrupt their banter. “While you two catfight like a bunch of chicks over who is more codependent, I'm going to go have a smoke.”

Carter snickers. “The back door is through the kitchen.”

“Thanks.”

As I step outside into the breezy April air, I'm actually surprised by how warm it's gotten. The fresh air that blows past me is exactly what I needed. I light the cigarette and inhale deeply, feeling it soothe me from the inside out. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes.

There's got to be a way I can get Kennedy to forgive me, but I can't seem to figure out how. I tried sending her pictures of my car in front of the cafe when Zayn and I went to pick it up, and Amelia even told her that the tires were slashed and showed her the receipt for my new phone. It's like she doesn't want to listen to it.

The door opens again, and I startle from the sudden noise.

“Oh, sorry,” a familiar and annoying voice says. “I didn't realize you were out here.”

I don't even spare a glance at Alec. “You have a tendency of doing that. Not realizing I'm somewhere.”

He sighs. “Look, I know you don't like me. I get it. A guy hanging out with your pregnant ex wouldn't sit well with anyone. But I care about her. I'm only trying to help.”

I'm sure you are.I'm about to come back with something sarcastic. Something to make him go back inside and leave me the fuck alone. But as I go to open my mouth, I realize this is exactly what I need. If I play nice with Alec, maybe Kennedy won't hate me as much.

I swallow my pride and look him in the eyes. “You're right. I'm sorry. It's just been one hell of a couple weeks.”

“That bad?” he asks.

I shrug. “You care about that girl, but I'm in love with her. I've been busting my ass to show her that, and to be there for her and the baby, but I just keep fucking up. I don't know.”

He takes a hit of his own cigarette. “Kennedy told me about your car. Someone slashed your tires?”

Yeah, you. Fucking douche. ”Yep. All four in the time it took for me to go inside to get a cup of coffee and a muffin for Kennedy.”

“Fuck, man. That sucks. I'm sorry.”

I bet he is. This nice guy act may be fooling Kennedy, but it sure as shit isn't fooling me. I just hope he's buying mine.

“Thanks. It's just been a lot.”

He turns around and looks inside before taking a step closer toward me. “You just need a little pick me up, that's all. Something to take the edge off for a bit.”

I shake my head. “Oh, nah. That's all right, man. I don't—”

My words are cut off by the sight of a little baggie filled with white powder. Since getting clean, Zayn has made sure I'm never even in the vicinity of any drugs, and he's gone to great lengths to make it happen. He even almost got himself killed by the dealer I used to work for, just to keep me away from the shit. But I'd be lying if I said the urge to dip back in wasn't getting harder and harder lately.

He puts out his half-smoked cigarette and tosses the baggie to me with a wink. “Chill out a little, bro.”

I SIT ON MYbed, staring down at Alec's party favor as a million things run through my head. Half of me is screaming to flush it. That nothing good can come from this. But the other half tells a different story.

The last time I got high was after Tessa's overdose. After she woke up in the hospital and told me that she was choosing Asher. No matter what I did, how hard I tried, she was still going back to him. And I had lost her. I was stupid and heartbroken and decided to get high as hell to try to dull the pain. It's not like it worked at all, but I sure as hell tried.

Recovery was the worst thing I've ever been through. Having to detox off something my body had become so dependent on, I wanted nothing more than to swallow the same amount of pills Tessa had, even knowing it would kill me. If I had been strong enough, I would have physically fought Zayn, but I could barely keep myself hydrated, let alone throw a punch. My words, however, were like knives.

Out of everything, though, what I remember most was how weightless it made me feel.

How it took the stress away.

How it made everything a little more bearable.

“My problem was never cocaine,” I whisper to myself. “Hell, once wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.”

Just as I'm about to open the baggie and find something to pour it out on, Baylor comes over and lays in my lap—preventing me from getting up. He lays his head down on my leg and looks up at me with his big, dark brown eyes. The ones that Kennedy said match mine.

Kennedy.

The baby.

My whole body freezes as I realize what I was about to do. There is no world where either of them deserves that, for me to throw away everything for drugs, like I've done before.

No.

I won't do it again.

Opening my dresser, I toss it inside and slam it shut. In that instant, the decision is made. I'm not going to let anything get in my way. Not Alec. Not cocaine. Nothing.

I'm going to be the man she needs and the father that this baby deserves.

I'm going to do better.