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Holden’s lazy attitude about academics drives me crazy, which he knows.
I roll my eyes and he smirks. Then grabs my hand and pulls me to the left. If there wasn’t a cover on my coffee, I’d be drenched.
“Let’s sit here for a sec.” He pulls me toward an open picnic table on the campus green.
Nerves pinball around in my stomach. He wants privacy, which means he wants to talk.
I haven’t decided what I want to know.
Ask.
Argue about.
And I’m out of time to decide.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HOLDEN
Iglance over at Cassia. Her face is tilted back as she straddles the bench’s seat, soaking up the sunshine.
“What a beautiful day,” she says before taking a sip of coffee.
A robin lands on the tree branch above us, chirping cheerfully. Neither the nice weather or the merry sound do much to calm the anxiety squeezing my stomach.
After last night, I think we’ll be okay. I don’t think this will be the mistake that damages us past repair. But I can’t get the words she whispered—Stop doing things I’ll have to forgive. Because I’ll hate you a little more, every time—out of my head.
They echoed ominously in my head throughout my entire weight session. I can barely feel my shoulders right now, the muscles are so sore.
“Crazy that you want to spend it in the library,” I tell her. “We could go for a hike or something.”
“Maybe next weekend,” she says.
“Next weekend is the car wash,” I remind her. “We were going to go back to Pembrooke for it, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. I just… I’m not sure if I want to go back.” She fiddles with the straw of her coffee, avoiding my gaze.
“You can’t avoid going home forever,” I say softly.
There are many times I’ve dreaded returning to Pembrooke. Since my dad died, it feels like there’s less there for me. The house I grew up in, gone. Lily, gone. I see my high school friends elsewhere. Sydney is usually in the city living her life. Cassia is here with me.
All I really care about there is that old court.
But I know for Cassia, Pembrooke has always been special. She has the big, memory-filled house and the happy family and the shelter that sparked her dream of becoming a veterinarian.
I hate that’s changed for her.
That it’s less of a home now.
She exhales. “Yeah, I know.”
I do too, realizing I need to get into everything I’ve been avoiding telling her. It’s not an excuse, but my mom’s illness is important context for explaining how the situation with Bailey happened.
“I might have to start going back to Pembrooke a lot,” I tell her.
Cassia looks at me, a wrinkle appearing on her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Remember that day I came home when you and Sydney were twerking in the living room?”
