Page 29

Joe (3:02 p.m.): Easy run day, no problem. I’ll pace us at what, a 7 min mile? And one o’clock will be plenty of time :)

Cass (3:02 p.m.): I’m going to regret this

Cass (3:02 p.m.): I might have run at 10 min a mile the last time I ran a mile, which was probably back in high school =P

Joe (3:03 p.m.): No worries, I got you. We’ll take it at whatever pace works for you :) My sister is about to take my head off, though. Gotta go. ttyl!

With a grin and another shake of his head, Cass sent a thumbs-up emoji in response. Then he took a breath, pushed himself to his feet, and headed out to the kitchen, his phone still in his hand.

It seemed like he had a date on Saturday morning. Maybe. Or maybe not. He wasn’t entirely sure, actually. They hadn’t explicitly defined it that way, but from how Joe had asked and how he’d offered to pay for breakfast, that was sure the vibe Cass was getting.

And a date . . . a date should be . . . okay? Or maybe it would be kind of good, even, Cass mused, stopping in the entryway to the kitchen.

He liked Joe enough—the man was good-looking, sure, but also smart, kind, and funny. They’d spent a lot of time talking on Thursday night at Westside, and then there’d been quite a bit of texting back and forth since Friday; it had all been easy and come naturally—no weird, awkward, how-do-we-talk-to-each-other pauses or uncomfortable lulls in the conversation. They didn’t seem to have a ton of things in common, but that hadn’t really mattered. If anything, it had maybe made things interesting. Or at least Cass could now say he knew more about tapering before running a marathon and what it was like to get seasick on a cruise ship than he’d ever expected to, especially since he himself had never run a marathon or been on a cruise ship.

So as long as the weather held, then Saturday should be . . . good. If nothing else, it would be fun to hang out, and it would also be nice to get outside and take a bit of a break from worrying about his mom and his dad and school and the future and everything that was constantly on his mind.

Like the fact that he had a whole three-and-a-half-pound pot roast he hadn’t gotten in the slow cooker this morning. And the fact that he’d never heard back from—

His phone buzzed in his hand again, stopping the thought before it could balloon into something else to worry him. With a sigh, Cass stuffed the phone in his pocket and stepped into the kitchen. He needed to get dinner going if they were still eating pot roast tonight—he’d just have to cook it in the Dutch oven rather than the slow cooker. And whoever had just texted him—it was probably Joe again or maybe Brendan—he could catch up with them later, when he had more time.

Grant (Sunday, December 12, 2021 – 10:28 a.m.): Hey man, so, we’re studying for your child dev final this afternoon. I picked up the study guide that Cramer gave out. I’ll help you, and we’ll get it done

Chapter Thirteen

Ash

Ash had a headache.

Not a migraine—thank god—but it was annoying enough and pervasive enough that it made concentrating on his studying that much harder.

As soon as he’d gotten home a couple of hours ago, much later than he’d anticipated thanks to traffic on I-5, Shaina had hugged him, pointed him to the pizza and two-liter of Dr. Pepper sitting on his kitchen table, and then taken Bri, her diaper bag, and the stroller she’d quickly pulled out of the U-Haul and left with clear instructions that Ash was to eat, study, and rest.

Grant had joined him shortly after, and they’d been cramming for his final exam ever since. Grant wasn’t in his class; he was a sociology major and had his own exams to prepare for. But he’d been attending some of Ash’s classes to take notes for him the last couple of weeks, and he seemed to have a good grasp on the material—enough to help guide Ash’s studying, anyway. Or at least to try to.

But Ash’s headache and the fact that he couldn’t stop worrying about where Shaina was with Bri were not really helping his concentration much.

“So”—Grant pushed away what had to be his fifth slice of pizza and slid a single sheet of paper back in between the two of them—“I think those are all the topics that the multiple-choice portion will cover. You should be in good shape for that portion of the exam, yeah?” Without waiting for Ash’s response, Grant flipped over the one-page study guide and started reading from the top. “‘Essay portion—fifty percent of final grade. Be prepared to write a well-structured, five-paragraph essay on one of the following topics.’ Yikes, right. Cramer spent a good amount of time going over this in class. I’ve got the notes on each one right here.”

Ash leaned forward and tried to follow along as Grant turned his computer so Ash could see the typed notes he’d made on each of the three possible essay questions. But even as Grant started talking, explaining his notes and brainstorming ideas that could be included in each of the essays, Ash couldn’t focus. His hand drifted over to where his phone sat face down on the table next to his plate, and he tapped the back of the case, nodding along and pretending to listen. Several minutes later, as Grant finished with the second essay question, Ash mumbled something like “mm-hmm, got it” and then picked up his phone.

“Shaina’s been gone a long time, don’t you think? Bri should be—”

Ash stopped talking as he unlocked his phone and immediately saw a selfie Shaina had sent not more than a half hour ago. She was sitting on a plush dark-blue couch, cradling Bri, who was wrapped up in her purple blanket and sleeping peacefully. The message accompanying the photo read, “We met up with Chris, Jules, and Tori, and we’re hanging out here at their place. Bri is happy and sleeping. So stop worrying and study!”

Grant’s hand clapped Ash on the back. “Come on, just a little more, and then we can take a break and get some of the U-Haul unloaded.”

Ash answered with a nod, but his eyes lingered on the photo for another few seconds, letting the relief of seeing his niece calm his racing heart. He closed his eyes briefly and then nodded again.

“Yeah, sorry.” He shook his head and grimaced as he glanced up at Grant.

His friend nodded in understanding and seemed about to say something but then just squeezed Ash’s shoulder and let his hand drop away. The sadness in Grant’s eyes was a look Ash recognized all too well, and he was reminded, not for the first time that day or week or month, that he wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone important when his sister had passed. Grant had known both of them for years; he’d been good friends with Ash since seventh grade and had even dated Ashlynn for a few months when all of them were in high school together. He’d been affected by Ashlynn’s death as well.

“Um, yeah, so, what’s the last question?” Ash asked, suddenly desperate to have the distraction of studying again. He glanced back at his phone one more time and had just started to set it down when a new notification popped up.

It was another text, but it wasn’t from Shaina this time. With a faint smile, he tapped on Cass’s name on the screen and read the two messages that came through.

Cass (4:44 p.m.): Great news, thanks for letting me know :) How does it feel to be home? I hope the weather up there is decent enough. Not gonna lie, I’ve never been to Seattle, and the only impression I have is the stereotypical “it’s gray and raining constantly”