Page 51 of While the Sun Shines

“Yeah.”

But she just stares through the windshield, her mouth working once and then stilling.

Drew sucks in a breath. “Pen, I’m—”

“If you say ‘sorry,’ I’ll scream.”

“Okay.” I am, though, he wants to say. Shut up, he tells himself.

“I came here so I wouldn’t have to deal with you this morning,” she says.

“Yeah.” He picks at his own jeans. “Same.”

“Well, great minds, etcetera.” She clears her throat. “I had way too much to drink last night.”

“You feeling okay?”

She gives the dashboard a small smile. “Yeah. I mean no, I feel like shit, but thanks for asking. At least carbs and caffeine work wonders.”

“Always do.” He stares out at the rain sliding down the windshield. Takes a breath. Takes another one and finally gets out, “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He nods and then nods again. “Why?”

She throws her hands up. “Because you have time to go out for breakfast and don’t ever have time for me.”

“Okay.” He nods once more. “What?”

“God, Drew, you drive me nuts!”

“Yes.” He needs to stop nodding. “I mean—I meant about last night. And yesterday what I—uh, said? To Cooper?”

“No.” She levels a finger at him. “No, you don’t get to be the bigger person, bringing that up, okay? You don’t get to be nice about this. You being nice got us into this whole thing.”

“Right.” No more nodding, he snaps at himself and then nods again anyway. “I don’t—what?”

“You’re so stupidly nice half the time and the other half you’re—pie, Drew! I wanted to eat pie with you!” She shoves her hair back from her face. “You only came swimming last night because the baler broke. You wouldn’t have under any other circumstances, would you?”

“Well, we would’ve been baling, so—”

“And Battle of the Bartenders? Would you’ve come?”

“I’m coming.” He nods again. “I’m going to come.”

“It’s fucking cancelled because of the rain. It was supposed to be tonight. Did you even know that or were you planning on making cheese?”

Cheese, he thinks. Ah shit, that scrawled note waiting for him, and there’s only so much Whit and Cooper can manage. Carefully, gingerly, he says, “I’ve got Brad’s order.”

“And you can’t possibly have finished it any other time?”

“I don’t know—yes? No? I’m sorry your thing was cancelled.”

“At least now I’m not there, wondering if you’re going to bother showing up and all the while knowing the fucking truth.”

“Pen—”

“You know what I figured? That the one time I’d see you this summer would be at Julie’s party, that you’d maybe, for once, make time to go to it, and put two brain cells together, and ask if I wanted to come too.”