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Rosie:you’re supposed to side with me.
Lucas:I’ll always be on your side.
Those words sat there alone for several seconds as I stared at them, not really knowing what was about them that made them stand out.
The three typing dots appeared again.
Lucas:I’ll let you go, just wanted to check on him. And you.
Lucas:#TeamRosie
Lucas:xoxo, you know you love me.
Lucas:and before you ask… I have a big sister, Ro. I know Gossip Girl.
Ah dammit. God freaking dammit.
Why did he have to go around being so… good and funny and… and… so Lucas?
Rosie:that’s sweet of you, Lucas. You really didn’t have to check on us.
A few seconds passed, and just when I thought I wouldn’t receive any more messages from him, a new bubble appeared on my screen.
Lucas:One last thing, will you be eating at your Dad’s or should I leave dinner in the oven for you?
That expanding sensation in my chest I so often experienced when Lucas was around came back with a vengeance. Heightened, intensified. As if it was there to stay. He was so unbelievably sweet, and he probably had no idea.
This truly was a curse and a blessing. Because—
“Rosie?”
Looking up from my phone, I caught my dad’s interested gaze. “Sorry, were you saying something?”
“Who’s that you’re texting?”
His question brought me back in time, when I was sixteen and he’d asked me if there was any boy I liked.Remember to pick the boy that will plant a garden for you instead of just getting you the flowers,Bean.
“Oh,” I said as casually as I could. “Just a friend.”
“There was a lot of grinning going on there for ‘just a friend.’?”
“I was laughing at something he said.” I locked my phone and slipped it in my bag. “He’s funny like that.”
“Oh yeah?” Dad’s smile was knowing. “What was the joke?”
Out of the corner of my eye I watched Nora slip out of the room with a nod in our direction. I used her disappearance to my advantage. “One not asfunnyas seeing you with Nora.” I pointed a finger at him. “Someone’s been busy.”
He laughed, like outright deep belly laugh, and I loved hearing that sound. I loved it less when it died off too quickly the moment Dad checked his watch.
“I guess your brother’s not coming then,” he admitted with a sigh.
I thought about making up a new excuse for him, but we had reached the point where there was not much else I could say. “I guess not, Dad.”
“Right.” He nodded. “Let’s get this done so you can catch an early train back, Bean.”
Hours later, I was finally getting off the train and making my way out of Penn Station. Feeling surprisingly drained of all energy andit being dark and a little late, I opted for spending the extra bucks on an Uber instead of taking the subway back home.
I had been waiting for my driver to arrive, when the outline of a man pacing the intersection across from where I stood caught my attention.
