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“Okay. I think we got everything on your list, right?”
“And more!” We’d smashed the list, and I’d ended up with way more than I probably needed. “Thank you so much for today. I swear I’ll get you back as soon as I can.” I feel bad lying to her, but I know if she knew about my card and imminent financial problems, she’d pay for way more than my replacement wardrobe. I also know she’d be happy to do it, and I would too if the situation were reversed, but it’s too awkward to think about.
“Girl, we don’t do that. Now, can wepleasego back to yours and order pizza while we put everything away?” The smile that spreads across my face defies my guilt. I’m so grateful to have my best friend here, doing the things we’ve always done and sticking by me, even when I don’t deserve it.
“Of course. I’ll even let you add pickles.”
“Wow, are you feeling okay?” I laugh as she grins, but her face turns serious. “Really, H, are you okay?”
I think about it for a second, assessing how I feel after seeing Madden earlier with that bitch. Seeing him holding the person who nearly drowned me last night hurt worse than the burning lungs.
“I think I am. I had a breakthrough, actually,” I tell her, and she spins to face me better in the confines of the car.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Everything that happened over the summer—I blame myself and punish myself enough for it. I shouldn’t have to put up with random strangers doing it too.”
She grabs my hands and squeezes them.
“Harper,” she says gently. “You don’t need to punish yourself. You know that, right?” I frown. Of course I do. “People make mistakes. You don’t have to waste your life away trying to pay for yours.”
It’s like a lightbulb goes off in my head, illuminating everything that I’ve been processing. I think I’ve known that’s true—wanted it to be—but everyone in my life was telling me differently. My family; Madden. No one would ever have told me I can carry on living without paying penance.
“Caleb would hate this for you. All of it.”
I nod, tears springing to my eyes.
“I know,” I practically whisper. “I know. I think I just needed that validated from someone else so I don’t think I’m letting myself off the hook too easily.”
“Easily? What part of the last three months has been easy?” I choke out a laugh. She couldn’t be more correct. “I wish I’d been here, H. I’d have told you that way sooner. A real friend would have.”
Of course, her words make me think of Madden; not much doesn’t. But underneath everything—the chemistry, the flirting and the games—we were supposed to be friends. I’d have told anyone who would listen that he was my best friend. So where has he been? When I needed him the most, he decided he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t help me, couldn’t see past the mistake I’d made. His grief was more important than my guilt, than our friendship. To me, that’s not a friendship worth having.
Kinsley is quiet as I think, maybe knowing the direction my thoughts have gone. She squeezes my hands once more before strapping her belt and silently pulling out of the parking lot. After a moment, I scroll through her most-played songs to pick my current fav. It’s the perfect song to kick off our drive home and forget about my issues with Madden and my lack of money and everything else until my new purchases have homes and Kinsley and I are both stuffed with deep crust.
I don’t even get the luxury of that amount of time, in the end.
“Hey,” I call to Kinsley, as I begin hanging my new clothes up. “Did you move anything in the wardrobe?”
“Nope.” She comes out of the en suite bathroom and into the main room, where I’m rifling through hangers. “Why, what’s up?”
“My sweater’s not here.”
“Which one?”
“Caleb’s soccer one.”
“The faded gray one?” she asks, her brow furrowing.
“Yeah…”
While Kinsley’s tone is casual, mine is anything but. That sweater is one of my most cherished possessions. Caleb and Madden had bought them years ago when they’d visited the stadium for their sixteenth birthday, and I’d sulked so hard over them not bringing me my own that Caleb gave me his out of guilt. It felt like the best prize I could ever be given.
Not only because Madden had a matching one, but also because Caleb had chosen my petty teenage happiness over his bond with his brother. I’d of course never truly ask for that, but it had meant more to me than I’m sure he’d even known at the time. I’d remained steadfastly obsessed with it and wore it whenever I needed reminding I wasn’t alone.
I hadn’t put it on since the night before graduation.
“It’s eighty degrees, H,” Caleb says from behind me as the door opens. “How are you even wearing a sweater?” His voice startles me, and I jump, turning to see both him and his brother heading toward me. They’re not supposed to be in this country, let alone this room. I shrug, not needing to give a reason to wear this sweater, especially not with the original gifter now standing right in front of me. And by the look in his eye, he knows why I’m wearing it. I missed him—missed both of them.
