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“Cassia!” My mom’s voice calls from downstairs.
I got home from work a half hour ago. Showered and put on a clean version of what I wore all day—athletic shorts and a t-shirt—then started on what I should have done a while ago: packing.
I’ve put it off longer than I should have, apprehensive about returning to campus because of where things stood with Holden. Just not in the mood to deal with any of it.
Sunday was supposed to be my packing day, but Holden was here for dinner, and I was too tired from the camping trip to do much of anything after he left. Yesterday was spent at the animal shelter, just like today. Last night I made the piles I’m currently staring at. Now I’m rapidly running out of time to actually pack.
I leave for Richmond on Thursday.
“Be right there,” I shout back.
I grab an empty water glass off my dresser and then head down the hallway, dodging the piles of Legos scattered across the runner.
I pause at the top of the stairs, stunned.
“Sydney?”
My best friend turns from her conversation with my mom in the entryway, a wide smile breaking across her face.
But even from here I can see the strain. The tightness around her eyes and the tenseness in her posture. I know her well enough to tell that something is wrong.
I rush down the rest of the staircase, worry temporarily overshadowed by excitement as we hug tightly. “You’re here!”
“Yep!” Sydney’s tone is as excited as mine, but there’s the same flicker ofsomethingelse in her expression.
I haven’t seen her in person since I visited her in July. But we talked last Thursday, and she didn’t sound off then.
“You visiting this weekend reminded me how much I miss this place. So I decided to come back for a few days.”
Shit, I think
There’s a teasing twinkle in Sydney’s eyes now. I totally forgot that I used her as my excuse.
“Here, I’ll take that.” My mom reaches for the empty glass I’m holding, oblivious.
She’s got six kids to worry about, five of which give her a lot more trouble than I do. I feel a little guilty for taking advantage of that blind trust.
“Sydney, can I get you anything to eat or drink?”
“I’m all set, thanks,” she says.
My mom nods. “Dinner will be ready soon. You’re welcome to stay, Sydney,” she says, then heads for the kitchen.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I tell her.
Sydney smiles, but the edge is back.
“Come on, let’s head up to my room.”
“Holden isn’t here, is he?” she asks.
“Uh, no. He’s playing at the court with the guys.”
I wait, but Sydney says nothing else as we head upstairs.
My unease grows, realizing she doesn’t want Holden to know whatever is wrong. That’s always been the biggest challenge of dating my best friend’s brother. Lines get blurry.
Maggie walks out of her room right as we pass by.
