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Chapter Nine
Hill was eating lunch at the same place he’d been going every nonworking Friday for years. They served thin fried catfish at Lola-Ann’s on Fridays, and it was the best fried fish in the state. He used to make a version of it at the firehouse, but he never had the energy to make it for himself, so this was a treat. He could vaguely hear the phones ringing for takeout and the general bustle of the restaurant but otherwise was totally focused on enjoying his food and reading the words in front of him.
On the way to the restaurant, he’d ducked into The Dog-Eared Page, the little independent bookstore on the corner. Usually if he was in the mood to read, he went for travel or food memoirs, but today he’d found himself wandering past those aisles, through the large romance novel section, and finally to the corner in the back where Stephen King had an entire bookcase dedicated to him. But Hill wasn’t looking for a King novel. He scanned through the K’s and finally found what he’d been hunting for: A. L. Kohl.
He picked up the two books the store had and bought them without reading the descriptions. Now, at his table in the corner, most of his lunch consumed, he was ten chapters into Andi’s book,Thirsty, a story about an ostracized teen girl who gets humiliated by a viral video calling herthirsty, which apparently meant desperate. The girl is devastated, but the night she plans to end her life, someone sends her a mysterious computer program that lets her hack into her classmates’ phones and webcams to see their secrets. She starts using the secrets against them, but strange things are starting to happen to the people she’s watching.
Hill suspected some supernatural shit was about to go down. He picked up his iced tea, his eyes glued to the page, and sipped. But the sound of his name made him jolt, almost spilling his drink into his lap. “Shit.”
He set his glass down, annoyed that he’d startled like a damn cat, and turned toward the sound. His jaw tightened at the sight.
Christina was standing there in uniform, arms crossed. “I figured I’d find you here. I’ve been trying to call you.”
And he’d been trying to ignore that. “What do you want, Chris?”
Without asking, she took the spot across from him. She glanced at the novel in his hand and snorted. “What in God’s name are you reading?”
He tore off a piece of his napkin and tucked it between the book’s pages to save his spot. Despite purchasing the book at a place called The Dog-Eared Page, he was staunchly anti-dog-earing. He set the novel down. “You need something?”
She picked up the book and eyed it, her brows arching. “High school horror? Since when do you read this stuff?” She flipped it over to read the back. “Or is this thinly veiled porn? Are there lots of big-boobed cheerleaders at this haunted high school?”
His jaw tightened, and he reached out to take the book from her. “It’s not porn. Andi wrote it.”
Christina’s gaze flicked to the name on the cover. “Ah, the neighbor girl who’s a horror writer.”
Hill sniffed at her insistence on calling Andi a girl. “A multipublished author.”
“Well, that explains why she can’t admit that she didn’t latch her door all the way. Maybe she thinks a ghost did it.” Chris wiggled her fingers and made a spooky ghost sound.
“Chris,” he warned, his patience thin. He was not in the mood to deal with his ex right now—or ever really.
“So, you dating her or something?” she asked.
“Not sure how that’s your business,” he said, a nonanswer if ever there was one.
“It’s not, but I’m nosy. And if you are, I think that’s…good. She seemed…colorful.”
His fist curled against his thigh. “Why are you here?”
Chris sighed and ran a hand over her braid, a nervous gesture she’d had since he’d known her. “Yeah, fine. God forbid we try to have a civil conversation. I’ll get to the point. I just wanted to let you know that Josh and I are getting married.”
Hill’s stomach dipped, but he kept his expression smooth. “Okay. Am I supposed to say congratulations?”
She rubbed the spot between her eyebrows like she was the adult trying to deal with a petulant child. “You don’t have to say anything. I only wanted you to hear this from me instead of one of the guys at the firehouse.” She took a breath and lowered her hand, something shifting in her gaze. “I also wanted to tell you that I’m pregnant.”
If the first confession had pushed him back a step, that one knocked him flat on his ass. When he and Christina had gotten engaged, he’d lain in bed that night next to her, imagining their life-movie montage. One where he pictured them getting a house together, babies being born, him running around with his kids. The kind of family life he hadn’t experienced as a child. A happiness he’d never experienced in his whole life.
He’d let go of Christina when he’d found out she was cheating with Josh—anger making the breakup quick and sharp—but now those other visions came rushing back. The realization that he’d not only lost her in that moment, but he’d lost that movie montage, that future. But she hadn’t. She was going to do it with someone else. He was going to have to watch her have kids with someone else.
Christina was staring at him, not gloating, not smirking. Instead, she looked…sad for him. “I just wanted you to know.”
He cleared his throat and tried to cover whatever emotion he’d revealed. The pity in her voice made him want to break things. He grabbed his straw and stabbed the ice in his cup. “Well, that’s…good. I mean, good for you. I know you’ve always wanted kids.”
She let out a breath and looked down. “Thanks.”
“Yeah,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
She glanced up, her eyes a little shiny. “I hate this.”
