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Instead, Holden sought me out—twice—when he could have very easily pretended it never happened. He seemed…affected. He also acknowledged me at school, which he’s never done, aside from the discussions involving the essay that were forced upon him.
It felt like people were giving me side glances all afternoon, and I don’t think it was just in my head. It’s part of the effect Holden has. There’s no way he didn’t know pulling me out of the cafeteria would draw attention.
He isn’t as egotistical as he could be about the level of interest in him, but he’s not oblivious either. I can’t figure out why he did it. The only explanation I can come up with is that he’s worried I’ll say something to Sydney, and that pisses me off.
It would cause strife between them, and that’s nothing I’d purposely encourage. I never told her how he ghosted me at the end of middle school. And he was the one who kissed me. I’m the one who initiated things between us this time, and that alone is enough to assure I’d never tell Sydney. Not only is the guy in question her brother, he’s also the only boy who’s broken my heart. If the roles were reversed, I’d be warning her far away from him.
Holden is synonymous with heartbreak. He’s the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I’m still not sure what force compelled me to act on my attraction after years of mirroring his indifference, but it’s nothing I need to justify.
Me and Holden are one of those fantasies with flaws. A possibility that you can picture so clearly it seems perfect. But then life gets in the way somehow. Nothing works out exactly the way you imagined it might. Usually it’s for the worst, in a way you make do with by saying it wasn’t meant to be.
I need to stop allowing for the possibility we are meant to be. To focus on the reality of what we are—what hemadeus. There are certain things I can control. My own future and my own decisions are two of them. Holden is the furthest thing from controlled. He’s unpredictable.
College and veterinary school will get me where I want to go. Speculating—wishing—won’t get me anywhere. Focusing on my work here and my planned path will.
I finish rationing all the food and start setting bowls down in cages with fresh resolve. All the dogs run in when they hear the clank of the metal, eagerly gobbling down their portions. I mark off everything on the master chart, make sure all the plastic canisters are closed, and walk across the hallway into the cat room. It’s empty, with no sign of Susan or Eileen.
I step back into the hallway. There’s a laugh, followed by the murmur of voices. Someone must be here.
Most of my hair came out of its bun while I was working. I yank the elastic out as I follow the sound of commotion, letting my curls fall freely. I run a hand through the tangled mess, turn the corner that leads into the lobby, and freeze.
Susan, Eileen, and Sydney are all gathered by the front desk, staring at…Holden. He’s standing just inside the doorway, holding a stuffed monkey.
“All set?”
It takes me a minute to register Eileen is talking to me. An embarrassing long stretch of time, actually. I’m too busy blinking at Holden like he’s a hallucination that might disappear. But no matter how many times I do, he’s still standing in front of me.
What thehellis he doing here? Holden hasn’t been by the animal shelter since we started high school. It fell away with all the other things we used to do together, becoming nothing but a bittersweet memory.
“Yeah. Dogs are good.” I finally answer Eileen’s question.
I glance from her to Susan to Sydney, looking for clues about why Holden is here. I would just ask him, but Sydney’s questions earlier are fresh in my mind. The last thing I want is for her to have more for me. That will require lying or telling the truth, both of which have lasting consequences. I’d rather not have to come up with any answers.
“Great. Do you have time to help me with Snowflake’s worming before you head out?”
“Yeah. Of course.” I focus on Eileen as I answer her, but I’m totally distracted. I lean against the edge of the reception desk, trying to focus on the dig of the wood trim against my hip instead of the blue eyes that are too easy to get lost in.
He’s here and he’s looking at me. And I can’t say a word—because I’m too worried about what might come out. My emotions are raw, and my judgment is shot, where he’s concerned.
Holden tosses the monkey up in the air and catches it. The stuffed animal squeaks. “I’ve gotta go. See you later, Syd.”
“Be careful, Holden,” she replies.
He grins, hasty and carefree. “I always am.”
A scoff escapes my mouth before I can stop it. Sydney has never been awake to see him stumble home, drunk and bloody. As opposite from careful as one could be. I cover my disbeliefwith a cough, but the way Holden’s grin widens suggests he sees right through it.
“Good to see you, Holden. Don’t be a stranger. Bring Lily by sometime.” Eileen is all friendliness and ease with Holden, which is rare. She’s not a people person. She prefers animal company, obvious as she suggests he brings their dog by.
“Yeah, I will. She’ll love this.” Holden holds up the monkey.
The sentences should be aimed at everyone, but he’s looking right at me as he says them. I inhale, sharply. Once again, I’m sure Holden is the only one who catches it. Knowing he is paying attention to me is a heady sensation. It’s giddiness and butterflies, the secret thrill of coveted attention.
I stand still for too long as he says goodbye and walks out the door. Eileen and Susan disappear into the back to set up the worming, leaving me and Sydney in the lobby. She dives back into filing the stack of folders on the desk.
I deliberate for thirty seconds, then ask, “What was Holden doing here?”
“I left some scripts in his car this morning. He thought I might need them and knew I was here.”
