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He made a dubious sound.
I stared at him. “Did she say she thought you were trying to steal her customers?”
“She said, ‘Cassidy, I wish you all the best luck in the world.’”
“That’s a lovely sentiment.”
“It’s Katya though,” he said. “Everything she says sounds like she’s actually threatening your life.”
“That’s very true.”
“She’s mellowed a bit lately,” Cass said. “I think she’s seeing someone.”
“Oooh! Who?”
He fixed me with a stare. “Would you ask Katya about her personal life?”
“I’m honestly too scared to ask her what she thinks of the weather.”
Cass snorted out a laugh. “Right?”
For all that we both pretended to be terrified of Katya, back in high school she’d been ride or die with us. Sure, she’d made every emo kid in school look like a bright little ray of sunshine in comparison, but she didn’t bullshit, and she didn’t buy into anyone else’s either. That was the reason I’d never told her about my plan to go to UMass instead of OU—she would have castrated me on the spot for being so stupid. And I had been stupid. Not because I’d chosen to go to a different college than Cass, but because of the way I’d gone about it. An open and honest conversation with the boy I loved? No! What about lying and avoidance instead?
“What’s that look for?” Cass asked softly.
“Just...” I forced a smile. “Just thinking about how fucking horrible I was to you.”
“It was a long time ago.” It wasn’t a denial. Not that I could have expected one. Cass had always been too honest. He was like Katya, but nice. I bet he’d never had an imaginary friend like Liar Bob whispering advice in his ear.
“Yeah,” I said. “It was a long time ago.”
So why did it still hurt like it was just yesterday?
* * *
The rest of the week got crazy busy. Em and Ada had made up with Brianna, and suddenly they were scheduling playdates and sleepovers and outings like they were a bunch of tiny socialites in desperate need of a responsible personal assistant. And from the sighs they gave me when I didn’t remember Felicity had asked about taking them all ice skating, I wasn’t likely to get an interview for the position. I went to another tap-dancing class with Mom, which was exactly as awful as it sounds. Linda was back and feeling fine, so at least there was the relief of knowing I wouldn’t have to dance with Mom at the recital. But I went to the class anyway. Not sure why. Just…it seemed to make Mom really happy. Even if she and Linda spent the better part of the hour huddled in a corner together, shooting glances at me and whispering.
Work was busy too, with more than one person down with the flu, which meant my eight-hour shifts were stretching out into twelve or fourteen. More than once I turned up at Mom’s to collect the girls past midnight, and Mom just clicked her tongue and steered me to the foldout couch to sleep. I was also dealing with a bunch of texts from Bill Fischer, making sure I was fully prepared for my duties as Light Lighter on Christmas Eve. Christmas was coming up fast, like I was a deer in the headlights and it was a Mack truck with brake failure barreling down I-75. I still had presents to wrap, and Christmas cards to write and send—let’s be real, that wasn’t going to happen—and I had to get to Save-Rite, hopefully before the last-minute rush, to buysomething, or me and the girls would be turning up at Mom’s with a platter of peanut butter sandwiches on Christmas Day. And that would be pathetic, next to whichever one of Jake’s six turkeys he cooked for the occasion.
So, in my defense, I had a lot of shit to do. Which explained why it was Thursday morning by the time I remembered I needed to make a reservation for Mon Ami. I gave them a call.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said someone who didn’t sound very sorry at all, “but we don’t have any reservations available until...” The sound of a screen being tapped. “January the eighth. You have a very Merry Christmas, now!”
Well,fuck.
“Wait!” I said desperately. “Are you sure you can’t—”
“I’m sure,” the voice cut me off.
“See, I’m actually back in my hometown after eighteen years, reconnecting with my high school sweetheart through the magic of Chri—”
The line went dead.
ChapterNine
When I arrived at Cass’s place Friday evening, his neighbor was trimming her holly bush. She held up a hand to me, and I waved back then steeled myself to ring the bell. Cass opened the door with such a broad smile that I wanted to vanish. Noelle greeted me wearing a bandana with tiny reindeer on it, but I couldn’t even make myself lean down to pet her. All I could do was watch the smile slowly slip from Cass’s face as his gaze met mine. He looked spectacular: slacks, dress shirt, hair product, the whole nine yards. My insides twisted with guilt.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he took in my jeans and sweater. Noelle went back inside and started bouncing her ball off the floor.
