Catching Cassidy

by Melissa Foster

  Wyatt shifts his eyes to Kyle’s car, then pulls on the metal door, which swings open and surprises us both. The inside of the building is dark. Wyatt shrugs and waves a hand in front of him, like I should go on in.

  “Will you wait for me here?” I wish I knew where the lights were.

  “I’m coming with you, Cass.”

  He steps inside, and I press my hand against his chest, feeling the wall of muscles beneath my palm. Wyatt’s built like one of those models you see in Abercrombie ads, six foot two of sculpted, tanned perfection. As we’re having our little stare-off in the doorway of the furniture store, it occurs to me for the hundredth time that it’s no wonder Kyle is jealous of him. Wyatt is totally hot. But he’s also my best friend, and we’ve never crossed any lines between friendship and something more. I’ve never really gotten that flirty vibe from Wyatt before, at least not the same vibes he gives off to the girls he sleeps with—those vibes that heat up a whole room and steal my breath just thinking about how lucky those girls are.

  “Please wait here.” I don’t feel like dealing with Kyle’s jealousy.

  He pushes past me with a yeah, right narrow-eyed stare. “Let you go into a dark building by yourself? I don’t think so. Come on. Let’s find him and get the hell out of here. We have a party to go to.”

  I roll my eyes, because as much as I want to spend my last night with Wyatt and Delilah before I take off with Kyle to spend the summer with his parents on Martha’s Vineyard, I’m not really in the mood for a party. And as we walk down the dark hallway, I get more irritated by the second. I hate that Wyatt has to rescue me again after Kyle left me hanging. Wyatt never seems to mind, but still.

  “Where is he?” Wyatt snaps. “And where are the lights in this place?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s in the office.” I point down a hall and hear a loud bang. I gasp and grab Wyatt, who does what he always does when I’m startled, or when I’m sad, or when I want to talk about something important. He drapes an arm over my shoulder.

  “Really, Cass? It’s a furniture store. They’re probably moving furniture.” He leads me down the hall and slows as the noises become clearer.

  My stomach clenches tight. “Is that…?” Moaning and sex sounds? I stand there for a second, my jaw hanging open and my heart slamming against my chest.

  “Stay here.” Wyatt stalks ahead of me with his hands fisting at his sides, and all I can think about is that Kyle will get pissed if employees are fooling around in the store. He’s so careful about making sure everything is perfect, staying late for inventory when other employees don’t show up and setting up the displays by himself in the evenings so no one else has to miss out on studying or late classes. I guess he won’t have to worry about that now that school is over.

  Wyatt stops in front of the stockroom door and holds a hand up for me to stay put. As Wyatt pushes the door open, it dawns on me that Kyle hasn’t returned my last text. I pull out my phone and scroll through my texts. I must not have felt the text come through.

  Hey, babe. Gonna be late. Shipment just came in.

  That’s when I recognize the sounds and realize who’s behind that closed door. With my heart in my throat, I reach for Wyatt as he steps into the room and flips on a light.

  “What the fuck?” Kyle yells.

  Wyatt turns and grabs me by the shoulders before I can get into the room.

  “Go out to the car, Cassidy.” Wyatt’s face ices over and just as quickly turns threatening, which I know is not meant for me but for Kyle.

  “No. What’s he doing?” I push against Wyatt, but he’s too strong, and he pushes me backward.

  “Fucking Wyatt.” Kyle sounds pissed and out of breath.

  “You don’t need to see this. Go to Delilah.” Wyatt pushes me out of the doorway and into Delilah’s arms. I didn’t even know she’d come into the building. I can’t stop the tears from escaping or my limbs from fighting as I try to get into the room. “Kyle!”

  “Fuck. It’s not what it looks like,” Kyle hollers.

  Delilah peers around Wyatt’s shoulders. “Oh my God.”

  “Take her out, Dee. Now.” Wyatt’s eyes narrow. His tone leaves no room for negotiation.

  I twist out of her arms and burst past Wyatt into the stockroom. Oh my God. I can’t breathe. Kyle and some whore are scrambling to put on their clothes.

  “Who are these people?” the girl screeches in an annoyingly high voice as she wiggles into a skirt. Bitch.

  I’m frozen in place, shaking all over, trying to process what I’m seeing. Somewhere deep in my head a spear is tearing into the knowledge that the guy I gave my virginity to, the guy I trusted with my heart, the guy I spent the last two years of my life with, is fucking some other girl like I don’t exist.

  “Dee, take her outside. Now.” As Wyatt grabs my shoulders and guides me back into Delilah’s arms, my eyes lock on Kyle. His face is beet-red, but it isn’t his face that makes me feel like I might puke. It’s his limp dick, sheathed in a condom.

  “You fucker! You asshole! How could you—” I can barely hear myself scream past the rush of blood in my ears. Everything seems like it’s in slow motion. Kyle’s mouth is moving, but I can’t hear a word. Wyatt is in front of me, holding me back. Kyle spreads his arms out like he can somehow explain it all away. My legs turn to rubber, and I feel Delilah dragging me backward. How can this be happening? After two years, how? Why?

  Wyatt turns on Kyle. I’ve never seen him so angry—fists flexing, muscles burgeoning, ready to attack. The last thing I see as Delilah drags me out of the room is Wyatt’s massive arm coiling back and the shocked expression on Kyle’s face. I hear a bunch of noises as we hurry down the hallway. The bitch is screaming, the guys are shouting, but it is all a blur, and when Delilah opens the door and the night air hits me, I collapse into her arms, yelling against her chest.

  “He’s an asshole!”

  Delilah rubs my back, trying to soothe me. It doesn’t help.

  “Forget him. He’s a jerk. Wyatt will take care of him.”

  Why do I feel bad that Wyatt is probably beating the shit out of him? My chest feels like it’s going to explode, and my limbs feel weak as Delilah leads me to the car, like I’m the one who’s been through a battle.

  “My key,” I manage.

  “Wyatt will get it. I’m sorry, Cassidy. I’m so sorry.” Delilah stands beside me as I lean against the car.

  She’s been there for me as often as Wyatt has. The one thought that fights its way past the chaos in my head is how lucky I am to have them with me now and to have them in my life altogether. I can’t stop shaking. I take one gulp of air after another, trying to regain control.

  The door to the building flies open and slams against the brick wall. Wyatt looks like the Hulk, dragging Kyle by the back of his shirt as he closes the distance between us. I spin around and face the car. I don’t want to look at Kyle. I can’t. I’m too hurt, too angry. And too humiliated to face Wyatt.

  “Tell her.” Wyatt’s guttural command slices through the night.

  “Jesus, Wyatt,” Delilah says just above a whisper.

  Kyle doesn’t say anything.

  “Tell. Her.” I can tell by Wyatt’s voice that he’s straining to rein in his anger.

  I turn, more out of morbid curiosity than anything else, like when you can’t look away from a car accident. Kyle’s eye is swollen shut, and his lower lip is torn and bleeding. Wyatt squeezes Kyle’s jaw between his fingers and thumb. The skin beneath his hand is white from the pressure.

  “Wyatt.” It comes out as a shaky whisper. I’ve seen fights before, but knowing Wyatt did that to Kyle and that it was because of me makes me scared, embarrassed, and sad all at once.

  Wyatt ignores my plea.

  “Fucking tell her. Now, you asshole,” Wyatt says through gritted teeth.

  Kyle’s eyes lock on mine, and I think I see remorse beneath the fear. “It’s not what it—”

  Wyatt silences him with a pu
nch to the jaw, sending Kyle stumbling backward. Wyatt grabs him by the collar again and pulls his fist back. Kyle’s hands fly up in surrender.

  I realize that it isn’t remorse I see in Kyle’s eyes, and I hate him even more than I did a minute ago.

  “I’ll tell her!” Kyle spits, probably a mouthful of blood, and looks sheepishly at me.

  I’m shaking so hard that when Delilah reaches for my hand, I can’t hold on to it. How many times have I looked into his eyes and believed he loved me? How many lies has he told me? I have to look away again.

  “Now,” Wyatt demands.

  “I’ve been sleeping with her for six months,” Kyle admits, and my breath leaves me in a rush of hot air. “But it didn’t mean anything. I swear it.”

  Wyatt shoves him hard, and Kyle tumbles to the pavement. Wyatt looms over him, his chest heaving with anger. “Didn’t fucking mean anything? It meant something to Cassidy, you asshole. If I ever find you near her again, I. Will. Kill. You. Now give me your fucking keys.”

  “I’m not—” Kyle holds up his hands to ward off another blow from Wyatt. Then he digs his keys out of his pocket and tosses them to him.

  “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Wyatt says in a dead calm voice that stills my heart. “We’re going to get Cassidy’s shit out of your apartment, and you will not show up there for at least two hours. We’ll leave your keys inside, and you sure as shit better not show up, or I swear to you I’ll finish the job.” Wyatt starts to walk away, then turns back and crouches beside Kyle, pinning him to the ground with a dark stare.

  “You were never good enough for her.”

  Chapter Two

  ~Wyatt~

  AFTER WE GET Cassidy’s stuff from the douche bag’s apartment, she’s too shaken up to go to the party, and I have no interest in going back there, either. All I want to do is make sure she’s okay. I can’t believe that asshole cheated on her. Cassidy is smart, funny, and too damn trusting. He’s been cheating on her for six months. How could she not have known? Seeing her fall apart at the sight of that limp-dicked asshole made me want to kill him. My body is still buzzing with anger as I drive home.

  “You’re staying with us tonight, Cass.” I glance in the rearview mirror at her red-rimmed, puffy eyes. I hate that that asshole has the power to ruin them, because she has the coolest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re green and yellow in the middle and brown around the edges. For some reason they remind me of a cat—mysterious. Our hair is the same light brown color. Hers hangs to her waist. She’s playing with the ends of it, so I know she’s really shaken up. She plays with her hair only when she’s nervous or upset.

  She nods. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

  “Well, at least you were smart enough to send most of your stuff home before your parents left for Europe, and we have the rest of your bags, so that’s one less thing you have to worry about.” Cassidy had packed to leave for the summer with Kyle, which I’d been trying to talk her out of for the past three weeks. But as vulnerable as she looks right now, she’s equally as bullheaded.

  I pull into our apartment complex and cut the engine. Delilah and I share an apartment. My parents basically demanded it. Controlling much? Actually, for all the strict parenting we endure—keeping tabs on every grade, making us live in the same place, watching over us like hawks when we’re home—I can’t really complain. I know they’re strict because they love us. Our parents paid for college and gave us a stipend of blow money each month. So there’s good with the bad.

  I hop out of the car, and Cassidy drags herself out of the backseat. I grab two of her duffels and hang them over my shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, Cass. We’ll get through this. Dee and I are here for you.” I grab her other two duffels and toss them over my free shoulder.

  Delilah pops the trunk and grabs Cassidy’s favorite tote bag, which I know without looking contains her photography stuff. Cassidy’s been taking pictures for years, and while her parents disregard her little hobby, she’s an amazing photographer. She even won two awards while we were in school.

  “I’ll carry one of those bags if you want, Wy,” Delilah offers, as if her feminine, long, lean arms are stronger than mine.

  “Nah. I’ve got them.” I sling an arm over Cassidy’s shoulder and the duffel moves across my back. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise. You deserve someone a thousand times better than him.” I drape my other arm over Delilah’s shoulder and feel the duffel bags collide. “Luckiest guy on earth. I get to spend Saturday night with my two favorite people.”

  “A loser and your sister. Real lucky.” Cassidy bumps me with her hip and rests her head on my shoulder. “Thanks, Wyatt.” She peers around me. “Thanks, Delilah. I didn’t mean to make you guys miss the party.”

  We head up to the second floor arm in arm, squished together like sardines.

  “Oh my gosh, Cassidy, do you really think I wanted to be there?” Delilah rolls her eyes. It’s not that she hates parties, but it seems like the closer we got to graduation, the more she hated pretending to be something she wasn’t.

  I unlock the door and follow the girls inside. Delilah flicks on the lights, and Cassidy goes directly to the wine rack.

  “Oh no. You’ve been robbed.”

  She looks like someone’s popped her balloon, exactly how she did when we were in sixth grade, sledding down a big hill by our house. The three of us piled onto one sled, Delilah in the front, then Cassidy, then me behind them. I didn’t have time to hold on to Cassidy before one of our friends shoved us from behind, sending us speeding down the hill. Cassidy fell off as we went over the first ramp we’d built in the snow. She sat on her butt in the snow with the same pouty expression on her face as she has now.

  Delilah laughs as I stow Cassidy’s bags in my room.

  “Mom and Dad took our stuff with them, so we ditched the alcohol before they got here. All we have are our clothes and…” Delilah opens the fridge and pulls out three bottles of beer. “Wy always has beer on hand.”

  I grab the bottle of wine I stowed in my bedroom for Cassidy. I saved it to give to her for graduation, but now a graduation gift seems unimportant. I bring it into the living room, holding it up in the air. “Who’s the man?”

  Cassidy runs over and hugs me. “This is why I love you.”

  “’Course you do. Now release me, woman, and let’s drink to your freedom.” I open the wine and fall between Delilah and Cassidy on the couch with a loud sigh. I take a swig and then hand the bottle to Cassidy. “Here’s to being a college grad.”

  Cassidy smiles and takes a drink, then hands the bottle to Delilah. I wipe a drip from Cassidy’s chin and lick it off my finger. She looks at me funny, like I’ve never done that before, even though I have about a million times, but it’s been a messed-up night, so I ignore it.

  “What would I do without you guys?” Cassidy asks.

  Before we can answer, Cassidy’s head pops up and her eyes open wide. “Oh no.”

  “What?” Delilah and I ask at the same time.

  “I have nowhere to go. I was supposed to spend the summer with Kyle, and my parents are in Europe for three months. I can’t go home. They signed up with that house-swap vacation program I told you about. The family they swapped with is staying in our house.” She reaches for the bottle and chugs it.

  Delilah and I exchange a glance, and I know by the way her brows are drawn together that she’s thinking the same thing I am. We don’t have that twin ESP thing that people talk about, but we’re close enough to sometimes know what the other is thinking. That’s how I figured out that Delilah’s into girls, not guys. She was sitting with this dude that all the girls were gushing over, and he was totally into her, but she looked almost sad and definitely not interested. I asked her about it, and it had taken some coaxing, but finally she told me that she thought she was a lesbian because she didn’t ever get excited to kiss guys. We were fifteen, and to this day, I swear that look still hovers in her eyes. I don
’t care if she’s not into dudes. She’s my sister. I wish my parents would be as open-minded as we are. I’ll never understand them. I’ve always found it odd that my parents bought a summer house in Harborside, Massachusetts, in a community that is very diverse, when they make comments about how wrong same-sex relationships are. I swear, I can’t wait for every state to make a determination, because I’m so sick of hearing about same-sex marriages on the news. I don’t get why anyone should have the right to tell anyone else who to marry, and if I hear my parents make reference to it one more time, I might explode—at them.

  I shrug off my thought and focus on Cassidy.

  “Come home with us, Cass. You’re still waiting to hear about that job in New York, and you have a dozen applications still out. Even if you get hired somewhere, you don’t have to start until the fall, so we’ll hang out this summer.” Cassidy’s degree is in accounting, and she’s hoping to land a job with a big accounting firm in New York City.

  I, on the other hand, have a degree in business with a minor in hot babes who like to go down on me. Delilah’s degree is in business with a minor in marketing. My father forced us in the direction he felt would be best for us to take over the bar one day. Suits me just fine. I figure I’ll want to run it when he retires, which won’t be for about twenty years. There’s great surfing at Harborside, and we have a kick-ass house and tons of friends there. Of course, I have no idea what I’m doing beyond this summer. Our father’s hooking me and Dee up with his colleagues after we get home, and then I guess we’ll start interviewing for jobs. I gotta give him credit. He does help us, if it’s in the direction he deems appropriate.