Page 111 of No Headlines Please

Cal studied my face. "And then what?"

I shrugged. "We'll see what develops."

"And if nothing develops?"

More casually than I felt, I said, "Then that's good news, right?"

Judging from his expression, Cal wasn't so sure. "You wanna know what I think?"

I just looked at him and waited.

His gaze locked on mine. "I think you're stalling."

If this were anyone else, I'd tell him to shove it. But Cal wasn't just anyone, and his logic was sound.

Maybe he had the right idea.

But hell if I'd admit it. "A few more days," I repeated. "We'll see what shakes out."

44

The Worst Best Friend Ever

Delaney

Ever since Sierra had dropped the bombshell that Maisie's father had died, I'd been in a stupor – well, when I wasn't crying, that is.

I loved Maisie's dad. He'd always made me feel like family.

But I'd been crying for Maisie more than for myself. I could hardly imagine how she must be feeling. She was an only child, and her mom had left the island ages ago to pursue a totally different life.

Unless there were relatives I didn't know about, this left Maisie on her own to deal with everything – the funeral, the family bike shop, and heaven knows what else.

It was all so awful.

According to the obituary, her dad had died of a heart attack in the middle of winter. I'd learned this not from Sierra, but from the funeral notice I'd found online after very little searching.

Sierra hadn't told me anything else – not that she'd had the chance. After that bombshell, I'd lurched past them and rushed back to Tessa's apartment, where I could process everything in private.

Now, two hours later, I was still reeling.

Already, I'd picked up my phone a dozen times and pulled up Maisie's number. But I hadn't called, because I had no idea what to say.

What could I say? I'd totally let her down. And as far as her dad, I should've known that he'd passed away. Exactly how I should've known, I wasn't quite sure. Maybe if I'd spent more time on social media?

Then again, Maisie barely used it. Neither did I.

This put me right back where I'd started.

I should've known.

And now Maisie had a new best friend. Had that person held her hand at the funeral? Or told her that everything was going to be okay?

For Maisie's sake, I really hoped so.

And yet, a monstrous part of me felt stupidly jealous at the idea of somebody else taking my place.

As if I had any right.