by Cathryn Fox
He laughs, and finishes his drink. “You’re right. You know I’m going to have to beat the shit out of Kyle.”
My head rears back. “Kyle, why?”
“I think Steph is with him.”
“Fucker.”
“Yeah.”
“We can talk about Kyle tomorrow. Go upstairs, climb into one of the spare beds, and sleep it off.”
“Okay, dude.”
His shoulders are slightly slumped as he walks off, and my mother steps up to me. “Is Linc okay?”
I catch him stumbling a bit on the stairs. “He’s going through a rough time.”
She nods and smiles. “He seemed to be hitting it off with Chelsea.”
“They’re just friends,” I say as he disappears up the stairs.
“What about you and Chelsea?” She waves a finger at me. “I caught you two in your room, remember.”
“Friends.”
“Yes, of course.” Her diamond earrings glisten in the overhead light as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You seemed to be interested in Katherine. She’s a lovely girl, Christian.”
“I’m interested in someone else.”
Her face lights with curiosity as she glances at the thinning crowd. “Is she still here?”
“No, she was never here, and you’ll meet her when the time is right.” I feign a yawn, and check my watch. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to crawl into bed.”
Her eyes are lit with excitement. “Okay, but tomorrow I want to hear all about this girl.”
I nod, and head upstairs. I’m about to enter my room when I find the door shut. I know I left it open when I moved Chelsea out and headed down to the party. I check the two spare bedrooms and they’re empty. I guess Linc stumbled into my room. I drop down onto the bed in one of the spare rooms and reach for my phone.
“Shit.”
I go back to my bedroom door. My buddy is probably fast asleep. I’ll just hurry in, grab my phone and get out. I don’t want to wake him, he’s clearly having a bad night, and needs to sleep it off. I try the door, only to find it locked. Fuck, he probably doesn’t even realize he’s locked it. I consider pounding on the door, I really want to see if Maize messaged me back, and after talking to Katherine, I really want to tell Maize how I feel—although doing it in person is a much better idea. Waiting until morning to talk to her might be torturous, but I can’t go around pounding or breaking down doors. I’m about to walk away, when I hear a noise in my room—something that sounds a lot like giggling. What the fuck?
24
Maize
It’s the day before Christmas, my mom has the nightshift off, and we’re both up early baking up a storm for tomorrow’s feast. I should be happy. I should be smiling with joy and dancing around the kitchen. But I’m not. In fact, I’m completely confused. I sent Christian a dozen texts last night, and he’s yet to answer any of them. He mentioned that he had something to do, somewhere to be on Saturday night, and while I wanted to ask—it’s not like him to be vague—I didn’t want to pry. Although he still has never told me where he goes every Sundays.
I guess if he wanted me to know he would have told me. Really though, it’s Christmas and he’s most likely busy with family. It’s not like him to blow me off and I’m probably worried about nothing. Then again what if something happened and he couldn’t text. What if he was hurt? With that thought rattling around inside my brain, I reach for the cookie sheet with shaky fingers, and it falls. The loud clanging sound pulls me from my reverie.
Mom touches my arm. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Why don’t you go lay down?” She waves her hand to shoo me away. “I’ve got this.”
I shake my head. “No, I like baking with you. I just need more coffee.” I head to the pot and pour a big mugful. As I drink my gaze goes to my phone, but again…nothing.
“Are you waiting for a call?” Mom asks, as she turns her rolling pin to hit the crust from a different angle.
“I plan to go shopping with Kaitlyn and Ryan later, so I was just checking to see if they left me a message.” At least it’s not an entire lie. We do have plans to shop. I take another big drink of coffee, and start dropping the shortbreads onto the tray. A smile creeps across my face as I think about the cookies Christian brought me. They were delicious and I must ask for the recipe. Maybe I can make them for him back at Kingston. He sure loved the eggs benny I perfected.
A knock sounds at the door and I nearly jump out of my socks. “I’ll get it,” I say quickly, and Mom gives me a strange look as I wipe my hands on my apron. I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s not Christian, but there is a small part of me that wants it to be him. I’m not ready for Mom to meet him, but I just want to see him, to know he’s okay after not hearing from him last night.
I pull open the door and my face falls when I see it’s Ryan. “Nice to see you too,” he says with a smirk.
“Sorry, I just thought you were someone else.”
“Thought I was the big football star you’re sleeping with, did you?”
“Shh,” I say and whack him. “Mom is in the kitchen.” I frown and take in his just crawled out of bed look, messy hair, sleepy eyes, unshaven face. He does have a Ryan Reynolds vibe about him. “Wait, why are you here so early? I thought we weren’t going shopping until this afternoon.”
“We’re not, but isn’t today your baking day?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it’s my eating day.” I laugh and shake my head. “I could smell the apple pie from my house,” he says and inhales deeply. “Woke me up.”
“You’re crazy. Come on.”
“Wait, what’s wrong?” he asks, capturing my hand to pull me back.
God, I wish he couldn’t read me so well, but we’ve been buddies since kindergarten, so I’m not surprised. “I just…haven’t heard a word from Christian.” I take a deep breath. “Don’t,” I say. It’s too early for one of his lectures. He doesn’t trust Christian or any of the kids from Sweetwater High, and with good reason after what they did to me. Christian has changed, though. I’m sure of it.
“All I’m going to say is it’s Christmas, and he’s probably busy with his country club or something. I heard something about Chelsea having a party.”
I stiffen. “Was it last night?” Did he go to a party at the country club, with Chelsea, and not tell me? Purposely not tell me? I work to push down the unease.
“I really don’t know. I was shooting pool at the pub. Dylan knows Chelsea from Princeton, and he ran into her and she mentioned something about a party, but I don’t think the country club is his scene.”
I try to play it off. “I’m sure he wants to catch up with all his friends.” Ryan eyes me for a moment longer, and I try not to fidget.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he says, and I relax a bit.
“Hey Mrs. Malone,” Ryan says, and moves past me into the kitchen, like he knows I might just need a minute alone.
“Oh, Ryan, stop calling me that. You’re not a boy anymore, and you can call me Barb.” As the two talk in the kitchen, I take a couple deep breaths to pull myself together. I walk back into the kitchen, and while it’s pretty early, and he’s likely still sleeping, I shoot off another text.
* * *
Hey Christian. Hitting up The Daily Grind, and going to do some shopping with Kaitlyn and Ryan. Catch up later?
* * *
I stand there for a second, and feel the burn of Ryan’s eyes as I wait for a response. Three dots appear and my heart picks up tempo.
* * *
Busy, can’t.
* * *
I stare at the two words, the air leaving my lungs like I’d just been sucker punched, and wait to see if he’s going to come back with a reason, or something…anything. This response doesn’t seem like something Christian would send. My mind goes back to the night he made love to me in my childhood bed. Yes, made love. No matter what
he says or calls it, that’s exactly what we did, and now this. Two simple words blowing me off.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to run to the bathroom.”
I dart down the hall with my phone and even though Kaitlyn is likely still asleep, I call her anyway. She picks up on the third ring, sounding groggy.
“Did I wake you?” I ask.
“No, actually. I’m in the bathroom on the floor.”
“Did you drink too much last night?” Kaitlyn isn’t much of a drinker. It interferes with her sleep and training.
“I had one drink with my brother. I should not be this sick. Ugh.”
“Sorry. We can cancel plans for shopping.”
“No, I want to go. I’m sure this will pass. Wait, why are you calling so early?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Christian.”
“What did he do?” she says, her voice a bit stronger.
“I don’t know…I just got this strange response from him.” I tell her what happened and she goes quiet for a second. “It’s weird right. That doesn’t sound like him.”
“I don’t know, Maize. You know him better than I do, and maybe now that he’s home, he’s back to the guy he used to be. I don’t know if that’s true. I just don’t know what to say.” She goes quiet for a second, and I blink the stupid tears pressing against my eyes. “Why don’t you text back?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “No, I don’t want to do that. Maybe I’ll just give it some time. He might be crazy busy or something.” My mind goes to the party at the country club, and unease rakes across my skin.
“Okay if that’s what you think is best.” I hear the toilet flush. “I’m going to go lay down for a bit.”
“We don’t have to go if you’re not up to it.”
“I’ll text you later.”
We hang up and I splash some cold water onto my face, and try to pull off casual as I walk back into the kitchen to find Ryan taking a tray of cookies from the oven. “These smell amazing,” he says and I’m glad he’s acting like his normal self in front of Mom.
“Were you talking to someone in there?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, Kaitlyn. She’s not feeling great so she might not be joining us for shopping.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Ryan asks. “I was texting with her last night and she seemed fine.”
“Sounds like the flu. It must have come on quickly.” I glance around as Ryan takes a hot cookie from the tray and yelps because it burns him. “Do you not have any patience?” I ask and turn the cold water on for him. He puts his hand under the tap as he shoves the cookie into his mouth and then dances around because the burn stings, and he has a hot cookie in his mouth.
“It’s hard to have sympathy,” I say, and he laughs around a mouthful of cookie. Mom just shakes her head, and it’s clear to see that she’s so happy her kitchen is full of fun and laughter today. We spend the next few hours baking and chatting about Harvard and Stanford, where Ryan is attending, also on a full ride. He’s a whiz on computers, and has a lead on a startup that wants him. Headhunters from some of the other big tech companies want him, but he’s all about the startups.
The morning passes quickly and I honestly don’t even want to know how many times I checked my phone. If I had to ballpark it, I’d say around a hundred. When it finally pings, I jump a little higher than I did when Ryan came to the door. I snatch it up quickly.
“It’s Kaitlyn,” I say injecting a measure of enthusiasm into my voice. While I’m happy to hear from her, I was really hoping it was Christian. “She’s feeling much better and said she’s good to meet for coffee and shopping.”
“Where are you going for coffee?” Mom asks.
“The Daily Grind. It’s her favorite.”
“I hate that place,” Ryan says. “Who charges one hundred dollars for a latte anyway?”
I laugh. “It’s not a hundred dollars.” He’s right though, it’s a coffee shop for the rich and famous, but Kaitlyn swears they make the best lattes on the planet and she treats herself to one every Christmas. With the meager amount of money in my account, I’m just going to get a regular drip.
“I’ll take the last of the cookies out,” Mom says. “You two go have some fun, you look like you could use it.”
I give Mom a kiss on the cheek, run to my room to change my clothes, and tie my hair back. I’m not planning on seeing anyone other than Ryan and Kaitlyn, so no need to do hair or makeup. With my purse over my shoulder, I meet Ryan back in the kitchen, and we start down the sidewalk to his car.
“Are you changing?” I ask.
He grins. “No, the girls dig the just crawled out of bed look.”
“Getting lots of play, are you?”
He laughs. “Getting enough.” We reach his house, and jump into his car. It’s an old beater he’s had since high school. He’s worked numerous jobs to keep it going, and I think he doesn’t have the heart to part with it now.
We drive through the busy streets, everyone’s out doing their last-minute shopping, and we circle the block forever before we can get a parking spot. The coffee shop is packed, but I spot Kaitlyn sitting at a table. She waves us over. I take her in and frown. Something’s not right.
“You feeling okay?”
“Much better. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me. I ordered for us all. On me. Merry Christmas.”
I laugh as I sit across from her, and Ryan drops down beside her. We agreed a long time ago not to exchange gifts, but I let this one go. I still have to get Mom something. She had her eye on a pair of earrings, and I plan to get them for her. I’ll put them on my credit card, and plan to get a part time job when I return to Kingston.
Kaitlyn’s name is called, and she stands and comes back with three lattes. I take a sip and moan. “My God, that is good.”
“Merry Christmas to me,” Kaitlyn says, and takes a big drink. We laugh, but mine dies an abrupt death when someone calls out my name.
“Maize, I thought that was you.”
I lift my head to see none other than Chelsea Haverstock coming our way. She turns to Kaitlyn, who snarls at her.
“Kaitlyn, so good to see you,” Chelsea purrs. She blinks and glances at Ryan, who’s changed so much over the years. Not that she knew him back in high school. He didn’t go to Sweetwater. “You, I don’t know,” she says, her big fancy purse falling on her arm as she touches his shoulder.
“Ryan, meet Chelsea. Chelsea, meet Ryan.”
“So nice to meet you,” she says in a disgustingly flirty way as she sizes Ryan up. “Ooh, if I didn’t have a boyfriend.” She laughs as her friends join her. We all exchange pleasantries and I go back to my latte, hoping she’ll get the hint and leave. “How funny running into you all here. I didn’t think you came to this coffee shop.” She stifles a yawn. “They better hurry up with my espresso. I need the caffeine after last night.”
Don’t ask.
Don’t take the bait.
“What happened last night?” I ask and Ryan just shakes his head at me, but there’s a part of me that wants to know if she had a party, and if Christian was there.
“Oh, it was Christian’s annual Christmas party.” She blinks at me. “You remember Christian Moore, don’t you?”
I gulp and can physically feel the blood draining from my face. Before I can say anything, Ryan’s hand goes to my knee and he gives it a squeeze. Chelsea continues with, “Let me tell you that boy does have more.” She winks. “If you know what I mean.” The two girls she’s with are on their phones, completely ignoring us.
“You…you were at a party at Christian’s?” I ask, shocked that my voice even works.
“Maize,” Kaitlyn says, and I hold up my hand to stop her. I want…no need…to hear what Chelsea has to say. Her phone pings in her designer purse.
“That’s probably him now.” She chuckles. “I’m surprised he’s up, though. We had a very late night.” She fumbles with her phone, and then
it slips from her hands and lands on our table. “I’m such a klutz when I’m tired.”
My gaze goes to the phone, to the picture she has as her screensaver. What the hell. I lean forward, narrow my eyes, glance at the two people in bed. The picture is dark, a bit hard to make out, but behind the bed, I spot a shelf full of trophies. This is definitely Christian’s room. I’ve looked at the pictures he sent a million times, so I’d know his room in an instant. I lean forward to get a better look at her phone, and study the couple entwined in the bed…My heart stops beating. “Is that…”
“Oops, that’s private.” She snatches her phone up.
I slowly lift my head and blink at her, as Ryan stands. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Ryan, please don’t.” I grab his arm and tug until he’s sitting. The last thing I want is for him and Christian to fight. This is my battle, not his.
Chelsea blinks dark lashes over big eyes as she gazes at Ryan like she has no idea what he’s talking about. I must be wrong. I have to be wrong. I mean, lots of guys have shelves with trophies behind their beds, right?
You’re not wrong, Maize…
“Is that…” God, I can’t even bring myself to ask if it’s her and Christian.
“Yeah, Christian and I hooked up last night at his Christmas party. We’re an item now.”
“Christian had a Christmas party,” I mumble to myself.
Christian had a party at his house, and didn’t invite me.
As that thought bounces around my brain, Chelsea’s fingers fly over her phone as she shoots off a text—to who, I don’t know. Maybe it’s Christian. Her eyes move back to mine, and she laughs lightly. “Why do you seem so surprised? I don’t think he ever got over me when I broke it off before college.” She hugs her phone to her chest. “It was only a matter of time before we found each other again, and with my degree in literature, I won’t be tied to a desk or one place. I can write anywhere, which means I’ll be able to go on the road with him. God, we are so perfect for one another, don’t you think?”