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“Do you have a way to contact her?”
“We didn’t swap phone numbers. But I know where she lives. If I get creative, I’m sure I can find something.” Holden leans down to pat the lab in the nearest cage. “He looks like Lily.”
“I thought that too.”
His smile is bittersweet. “I miss her.”
“Me too.” She died last year.
Catherine found Lily cold and unresponsive in her bed one morning and brought her to the vet to be cremated.
Neither of us were here, and I’ll always wish I’d been able to say goodbye to her. For so long, Lily was a reminder who Holden was to me. He might have ignored me in the halls and went outwith other girls, but Lily was a reminder he’d begged his dad for a dog and named her after a flower. For me.
Holden gives the lab one final pat and then straightens. “Finn called on the train home. He’s hosting a party tonight.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course he is.”
“I told him we probably wouldn’t make it.”
“Why not?”
“I thought you’d want to spend more time with your family.”
“They’re going to a barbeque tonight, so I can’t anyway. I was going to come over to the condo.”
Holden studies me. “So…you want to go?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
His jaw works a couple of times, deliberating something. “She might be there.”
“I can handle it.” If anything, I might savor the opportunity to rub our relationship in her face a little. For what she did to Brooks, if nothing else.
Arlington University has more of a town feel to it than Richmond’s campus does. We arrive just before six.
Instead of heading straight to Finn’s frat house, Holden parks my sedan downtown. We wander past storefronts of bookstores and clothing shops for about fifteen minutes before he guides me into an Italian restaurant with real candles and cloth napkins.
It’s one of the nicest places I’ve ever been to.
“Are you sure you want to eat here?” I whisper once a waiter shows us to our table.
He’s usually more of a paper napkins and pizza kind of guy.
Holden grins. “Uh-huh.”
I showered after the car wash earlier, but only to put on jeans and a t-shirt. I’m dressed for a college party—my version of it, at least. The woman at the table next to ours is wearing a silk dress and heels.
We’re underdressed, but I can’t really bring myself to care. The last time we had dinner together, Holden’s hand was bleeding, and we’d just had a big argument.
This is already an improvement.
We talk about nothing important throughout dinner, and it’s incredible.
The past weeks have been filled with heavy conversations, following months without a single word exchanged. It’s a relief, to make predictions about the next season of a show we’ve watched together. To celebrate what a success the car wash was—it raised several thousand dollars. To simply appreciate each other’s company.
To joke and laugh and tease and flirt, like this is our first date and we haven’t known each other most of our lives.
The food is delicious. Holden gets Bolognese and I order ravioli. We split a Caesar salad and sip fancy wine.
