Page 36 of Never Your Valentine

I put down my beer. “What does that mean?”

Sophie, June, and Lia exchange awkward glances around the table. We sit in silence as the sound system pumps out some indie rock from ten years ago. Ice clinks in glasses. Chairs scrape. The door opens and closes again.

Sophie shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “We should tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

Sophie turns to June, who makes a go-ahead motion with her hands and gives a dismissive shrug.

Sophie puts both hands on the table. “Grant had a girlfriend in high school. Triss. Everyone thought it was true love. She went to all his football games, but she’d show up for practices, too. It was kind of suspicious how she was always hanging around the gym.”

“That does sound unusual,” I say.

“But people just thought ‘oh, she’s such a devoted girlfriend.’ She talked to the coach a lot—who was also the history teacher—and she’d always be in his classroom at lunch or after school, pretending she needed help with her homework or whatever.”

I’m on high alert now, seeing where this story is going. I hope I’m wrong, though. “Her parents didn’t steer her in a better direction?” I ask. “Friends?”

“No,” Sophie says flatly. “She had Grant. And that’s not all she had.”

“Oh dear,” I say.

“Yeah. She had the quarterback, and she also had a little something on the side.”

“A big something,” Lia says, mimicking a pregnant belly.

“Shit,” I breathe. This explains so much. The hard, unromantic pieces of Grant click into place, making a full picture at last.

“Grant would have married her.” June looks furious. She wanted a sister, but I can tell this isn’t the kind of sister she would welcome. “He would have claimed the baby as his.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“Triss turned eighteen and eloped.”

“With the coach?”

“Yep. They’re living down in Lansing. Mr. Dewitt can’t teach anymore but he’s selling insurance or some derp job like that.”

“Bastard,” I say.

“That’s not the worst part,” June says.

“It gets worse?”

“The US Army saw a big kid with a broken heart and repressed anger. They snatched him right up. Took him away from us for ten years.”

“Damn,” I say. “That sucks.”

“So yeah,” Lia says, sitting back in her chair. “Like I said, Grant’s untouchable. You’re never going to crack that nut.”

“I don’t want to crack that nut,” I say. What does that even mean?

“That’s not what I heard,” Sophie sings. “Callie Frost told me that you two were getting very familiar at The Frostline a few weeks a⁠—”

“How do people date in this town?” I interrupt. I scramble for my phone and hold it out to them. “OkCupid? Bumble? Hinge?”

Sophie blinks at me. “You’re on the apps?”

“Isn’t everyone? It’s not like a suitable person is going to magically enter the room.”