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And then…Holden is up.
“I have five cousins. I eat cereal without milk. My favorite flavor of ice cream is cookie dough.”
“Jeez, man. Too vulnerable,” Harrison jokes.
A few laughs echo around the fire.
Then, one by one, everyone on my team looks to me. Brooks is the last to, a wrinkle appearing between his eyes as he follows everyone else’s attention.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he hasn’t heard Holden is the guy I was referring to last night.
I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. He’s just one more witness to the rollercoaster that’s my relationship with Holden Adams.
I take some petty satisfaction in taking a slow sip of my drink, pretending not to notice the expectant expressions aimed my way.
“Cassia?” Jordan prompts.
“What?” I reply.
“Uh…” He glances at Harrison, who’s now studying the ground instead of making jokes. “I just, um, do you have any thoughts?”
“Nope, no thoughts. It’s areallytough call.”
“Um, okay.” Jordan obviously has no idea what to make of my sarcasm.
Around Holden’s friends, I’m usually easygoing and affable. I wanted them all to like me. To get why Holden liked me.
Right now? I don’t really care. They probably all formed their conclusions about me a long time ago, and I’ve wasted my time ever since.
“His aunt doesn’t have any kids, right?” McKenzie says, from my left. “Does his dad have other siblings?”
“No clue,” Jordan replies. Then glances at Harrison, who shrugs.
“Straight cereal is criminal,” Brooks comments. “I bet that’s the lie.”
“Two of them have to do with food and one doesn’t,” Jordan states. “I think that means something.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” McKenzie says. “Okay, yeah. I vote for the cousins one.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that the deliberations about Holden’s clue have already lasted twice as long as everyone else’s so far. The spotlight is always a little brighter when it’s aimed toward him.
I drain the rest of my drink. Then stand. “He eats cookie dough straight but not in ice cream,” I say.
Surprisingly, my empty cup lands in the trash. I wasn’t sure, between my buzz and the distance. But it’s satisfying to make the shot. One part of tonight that goes according to plan. A little mic drop moment.
Everyone’s attention is on me.
“I’m heading to bed,” I announce. “Night.”
I grab my empty plate off the ground and climb over the log, tossing that in the trash too.
“Do you know where the bathrooms are?” Harrison asks, standing as well.
“I saw the signs, yeah.”
“I can show you…” His voice trails, and my alcohol-addled brain takes a second to figure out why.
“If you don’t want my fist in your face, stop fucking asking for it, Baker.”
