No Reverse

by Marion Croslydon

  The girl had left the door of the house half-open and I took my chance to get inside without having to give any introductions. Hey, I’m Cassie, Josh’s wife, the one he wants to get rid of.

  The hallway was packed with a crowd of people about my age. Boys and girls shouting at each other, since the music could have deafened the deaf. I side-stepped a couple involved in a tongue-swinging make-out session.

  Oxford parties were pretty much the same as in Kansas.

  Still, even if the scene was familiar, I couldn’t shake off the unease deep in my belly. Maybe it was the jet lag. I’d landed at London Heathrow that same morning. Or maybe it was simply the after-shock of the crazy week I’d been through. My gran had passed away six days ago. Then there’d been the quick visit to Kansas City, the wall I hit with Social Services… and now I was in Europe.

  An expensive last-minute plane ticket wasn’t how I’d planned to spend the small inheritance Gran had left me. It was supposed to settle me down in Nashville. But what I had to do, I had to do it face-to-face.

  “Wine? Jack and coke? Beer? Tell me what could put a smile back on that sexy mouth of yours.”

  A lanky guy stepped in my way. I lifted up my chin so that I could stare into his eyes. “Nothing, thanks.”

  I moved to the side, but he followed my trajectory. “Lovely accent. Are you a friend of our oh-so-popular host?”

  I smelled beer on his breath. The guy had obviously been throwing them back all night.

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ve never seen you around here before. And with those baby-blue eyes of yours, I’d remember.” He extended a hand, which I grabbed and shook automatically. “I’m Frederick. But everyone calls me Freddie.”

  “Cassandra.”

  “Cassandra,” Freddie echoed, not letting my hand go. “The notorious Cassandra.”

  I nearly choked. Had Josh told this guy about me?

  “What do you mean?” I managed.

  “Cassandra, daughter of King Priam… Apollo granted you the gift of prophecy.”

  Relief. He had no idea who I was.

  “You know, Greek mythology, Helen of Troy and all?”

  “Sure.” I forced myself to smile back at him. I had made it to my senior year in high school. Plus I’d watched the movie. Gran was a Brad Pitt-fan.

  If I could predict what level on the scale of “pissed-off-ness” Josh would reach when he saw me, that would come in handy. Or scare me off. Maybe Freddie could give me some insight into the new Josh MacBride.

  Freddie grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him as he passed through a door. “Come on. Have a drink.”

  We entered what must have been the living room. The sound doubled, so I assumed we were closer to the epicenter of the party. I felt a pang of jealousy that Josh should have the best sound system, while all I had was a basic MP3 player and some half-assed barely audible speakers. I untangled my hand from the guy and shoved it into my pocket. The table next to us was filled with used and unused plastic cups, along with bottles of vodka, O.J, and a single bottle of white wine.

  Freddie grabbed the vino and filled a glass to the brim. “Not a big fan of Australian chardonnay but I guess it’ll have to do.”

  I took the cup and gulped down half of it in one go. The prospect of seeing Josh for the first time in five years smashed my resolutions. Or maybe it was simply the effect of Freddie. The guy seemed kind of creepy.

  “So, Cassandra,” When he pronounced my name, a fake American twang replaced his stuck-up English accent. “Did you meet Josh here in Oxford?”

  Hearing his name in the mouth of this stranger shot an arrow straight into my heart. My chest tightened. A tingling sensation swept up the back of my neck and spread across my face. The guy had taken a step into my comfort zone. He towered well above my five foot one and my back was against the wall.

  “I know him from back home.” I skirted around Freddie so that he’d be the one with his back against the wall.

  “You know him from Texas.” Freddie poured himself a screwdriver—three-quarters vodka/one-quarter O.J. by the look of it—and the drink vanished down his throat in five sips. The guy was going to blow his head off.

  “Kansas.”

  “Euh?” My answer had him spilling some of the liquid over his chin.

  I took a mostly-clean napkin from the table and handed it to him.

  “I know him from Kansas, not Texas.”

  “Same thing,” he dismissed my correction with a wave. “Big space, burgers, and cowboys.”

  Was this jerk for real?

  “Cassie?”

  My heart squeezed real hard.

  His voice was the same, but it still felt like centuries had passed by since the last time I’d heard it. I forced myself to turn around and tried to ignore the tornado swirling inside me.

  Looking at him was like time-travelling. Josh hadn’t played ball since high school, yet his shoulders were strong and well-muscled. Same square jaw, same Coca-Cola brown eyes. Only I didn’t see me in them anymore.

  What did I expect? The guy had gone to college, not Mars.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  My mouth shaped into a “oh” or maybe it was an “ha.” It didn’t really matter because I only answered his question with a croak. For the first time in my life, my legendary wits failed me.

  Josh bridged the space between us and grabbed my elbow. His fingers burnt through my leather jacket. I felt his warmth seeping into me, and I focused on his touch while he dragged me away from the party.

  “I was talking to Cass—” Freddie shouted from behind.

  “—Later,” Josh cut him off.

  We climbed a staircase and stepped into a bedroom on the second floor. Hanging from a chair, I recognized his old Chiefs cap.

  I was out of breath. Josh freed my arm and crossed the room, creating an area of safety between us. He stared at me as if I were a two-headed monster.

  “You could have mailed the divorce papers. No need to hand-deliver them.”

  I swallowed hard. I’d spent a fortune and crossed a fucking ocean to see him face-to-face. There was no chickening out now. I shuffled on my feet so that I could hold myself straighter.

  “I need to tell you something. Face-to-face. I… I’m not ready to sign the papers. Not yet. We need to talk. And then, if you still want me to sign, I will.”

  When I’d told Josh I was pregnant, his mouth hadn’t dropped open nearly as wide as this. But, credit to him, he recovered quickly. “You’ve been begging for one for the last six years. Now that I’m ready to give it to you, you change your mind. Have you dedicated your life to ruining mine?”

  Those sweet words of love… I shook myself. This wasn’t about me, or Josh. I had to think straight, “big picture,” and work at reaching my goal.

  “What happened between us, it’s sad.” I moved toward him until we were nearly arms’ length away. “But we can work things out, try and get over what happened when…”

  “When you killed my child?”

  I shuddered.

  “When you went behind my back and had an abortion?”

  His words pierced into me like icepicks. I couldn’t hold his gaze, so my eyes focused on the tips of my shoes instead.

  “Or when you forgot about our vows and went on tour with your new rock star boyfriend?”

  Josh was now close enough that I could smell him, and he smelled the same. All man now, but still with some of the scent of the boy I grew up with. He smelled like the lemons from his mother’s award-winning garden. I wanted to throw myself into his strong arms, have them wrap around me and make me feel like he did when we were younger—when love was easy.

  “I did what I had to do, and I did it for you.”

  His body jerked backwards and his hands flew up to his face. “You have absolutely no shame.”

  His words should have floored me. Instead they fired up frustration. “No shame? Do you think you’d be where you are now, Ivy League and
all, if I had burdened you with a baby when you were seventeen?”

  First, Josh didn’t react. Then I saw the thoughts processing all over his face, as if it were the first time he’d looked at the past that way. So I hammered my point home. “If I’d had the baby back then, you’d still be in Steep Hill, and not even close to getting your butt out of there. Just like Woodie and me.”

  When Josh finally talked, it was like a judge passing a death sentence.

  “You did not have the right to make that choice for me. But you did and now there’s no way back.”

  Whatever the “real” truth was, Josh was right.

  “Maybe you’re right.” I gave in, my voice cracking. “But you had so much going for you. I knew I had to let you go.”

  “Why?” His eyes widened. “We could have made it work.”

  We’d already had that conversation. For someone that smart, Josh had always lacked common sense.

  “Really?” I cocked my head. “You’d have stayed in Steep Hill, so that I could look after both my sick gran and the baby”

  Josh opted for silence again. Seriously, had he ever extracted his head from his butt and looked at a situation the way it really was?

  I took a deep breath to focus on tidying my thoughts. Now was the time to share the truth with him. If he was to be angry with me, better make it for the right reason. I bridged the space between us. He didn’t budge. Good. I extended my arm to touch his forearm. He didn’t react. The contact filled me with hope.

  “Josh,” I whispered, “I came here to tell you… I didn’t—”

  The background sound of the music downstairs burst into the room, then receded when the door behind me slammed shut again.

  “Darling?” A girl’s voice.

  Josh stepped back, his jaw tightened. Before he had been looking down at me. Now he wasn’t looking at me at all. That was when I noticed the bottle of fancy perfume on the table next to the double bed.

  I spun around. A stick-thin brunette stood two yards away from me, all designer jeans and turtleneck top. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in a way only a professional’s blow-dry could have delivered.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” The girl’s accent was East Coast, all clean and polished.

  “Sorry, Lenor.” Josh struggled for his words. “I bumped into a friend from home.”

  “How sweet.” Lenor approached me, her manicured hand extended for a shake. “I’m Eleanor, Josh’s fiancée.”

  four

  My stomach clenched and an acrid taste spread throughout my mouth. Oh My God.

  I raised my hand to ward her off, but she mistook my gesture for a handshake.

  “You’re from Kansas then. Josh doesn’t talk much about his life before Georgetown. It’s made me so curious.” The girl didn’t talk, she freaking sang.

  “I’m—I’m Cassandra.” My own voice had veered into a high-pitched whine.

  “Nice to meet you, Cassandra.”

  Eleanor’s gaze brushed over my head towards Josh. Her perfectly-plucked eyebrow arched. She expected more of an explanation from him. So did I.

  “Cassie and I went to high school together.”

  That’s it. A childhood spent together scraping our knees playing ball, our church-going Sundays. And our first kiss on the Fourth-of-July.

  This girl didn’t even know about me, his wife. His Cass.

  “I have to go.” I threw myself towards the door and begged for the sobs building up in my throat to wait. I couldn’t break down in front of her, in front of him.

  “I hope we can get to know each other better.” Eleanor offered.

  “Sure.” I didn’t turn back to say goodbye.

  I opened the door and reached the staircase in a flash. I walked down two steps at a time and crashed into Freddie, the sticky liquid in his cup splashing all over my top.

  “Hey, careful, beauty.” He grabbed my elbow to get me back in balance. “Let me get a napkin.”

  “No need to. I’m leaving.” I sprinted towards the front door and burst out into the deserted street.

  The cold air outside hit me like a wave and stopped my crazy race.

  “Cass, wait.”

  Josh had followed me. I swiveled and didn’t care anymore if he witnessed my soon-to-be-wet cheeks.

  “I get it now, your need for a fast-tracked divorce.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I’m sorry.”

  “Your fiancée doesn’t even know you were married! It’s as if I’ve never existed.” I shouted and Josh stared back towards his house to check if anyone could hear us. But there was no one outside.

  Reassured, he moved closer. His features turned downwards. “Now you know,” he started in a flat voice. “Now you know how it felt when you left me, when you went away on tour…”

  But I never really went on tour. I fled away to hide myself, but he was really engaged.

  “So it’s all a plan for vengeance,” I threw back at him.

  “For a long time, I wanted you to suffer, just like I suffered when you left me.” He cupped my cheek with the palm of his hand. I fought the need to lean against it and let him heal me. “But not anymore. I just want us to move on.”

  His words smashed my heart, or what was left of it, and I pushed him away.

  I walked backwards, facing him as if he could stab me in the back.

  “Do you have anywhere to go tonight?” Josh followed me. “Does Mrs. O. even know you’re here?”

  My fingers curled and my nails bit into my own palms. “Breaking news, Josh! She died last week.”

  I had to run now before I collapsed and made a complete fool of myself.

  And run I did.

  “Cassie,” Josh called. “Cassie.”

  I didn’t look back.

  Steep Hill ~ September, six years earlier.

  Josh

  “Cassie,” I call after my girl. “Cassie.” She’s heading towards the changing rooms with her headphones on. When Cass listens to music, nothing else exists. Not even me.

  I love that about her. Her passion for music. Cassie is my only real passion. Football doesn’t even come close.

  “Hey, Josh!” Clarissa, one of the cheerleaders, steps in my way. “You played so well today.”

  “Thanks.” I skirt around her, but she throws her tits into my chest. They’re massive and pretty much the only thing she has going for her. Clarissa isn’t known for her wit.

  “So you’re going to Homecoming tonight?”

  “Sure.” From the corner of my eye, I notice Dad closing in. I have to get out of here fast or I’ll have to listen to another game debrief. “I have to go, sorry.”

  Clarissa grabs my elbow. “You know where to find me tonight. If you want to celebrate, and I mean really celebrate.”

  Cassie and I have been dating for a year now. Clarissa knows it. Everyone knows it. So, clearly, her invitation is a slap in the face of my girlfriend.

  I free my arm. “I’ll be celebrating with my girlfriend.”

  I turn my back on the busty midget and break into a sprint to catch up with Cass. I wrap my arm around her waist from behind and take her with me into a whirl, her back against my chest. She squeals.

  I make sure she lands safely on her feet and bury my face in the hollow of her neck. She smells like wild daisies, and I’m desperate to taste her.

  Tonight…

  She removes her headphones. “You were amazing out on the field today.” Her sunny smile shines into places in my heart I didn’t know existed.

  “It’s a miracle I could even concentrate with you flaunting your cheerleading ass in my direction.”

  Cass’s mouth morphs into a cute “oh” and she slaps my forearm. “I’m not just a piece of meat, MacBride.” Her gaze wandered sideways towards where Clarissa is still ogling me. “You should date that one instead.”

  Cass and Clarissa have never gotten along. I suspect I’m the reason why.

  To prove to Cassie sh
e has nothing to fear, my gaze swings back to her and I pulled her back against me. “Should I pick you up at six?”

  A pink flush spreads across her cheeks and across her nose. “Sure. You’d better like my dress though. It cost me hundreds of extra shifts at Teddy’s.”

  “I wanted to get it for you. Why didn’t you let me?” I pull her barely-dressed body even closer against mine. I lean forward so that I can whisper into her ear. “And, anyway, the whole purpose of tonight is getting you out of that dress.”

  “Perv’,” she purrs. “I thought you weren’t going to pressure me.”

  “I’m not.” I hold on her gaze to drill my point into her mind. “We’ll wait for as long as you need.”

  “Maybe I’m one of those girls who want to be a virgin on her wedding night.”

  “Then I’ll wait until we’re married.”

  Cassie shudders against me. I see her swallowing hard and panic flashes in her eyes.

  “One day, I’ll propose to you, Cassandra O’Malley, and we’ll have the nice life we deserve, picket fence and all.”

  “Girls like me aren’t good wife material.” She fixes blindly on the middle of my chest.

  If only she could see the magic I see in her.

  “You’re not your mom, Cass. You never were, and never will be. Can you tattoo that fact on this stubborn forehead of yours?”

  “Josh.” My dad’s calling.

  I straighten myself up and press Cass tighter against me. After a light squeeze of her shoulder, I turn towards my father. “Yes, Dad.”

  He frowns at Cassie. Our PDA pisses him off, big time. He’s all frown and scorn.

  “I want to have a word with you about the game.”

  Cassie frees herself from my hold and I immediately resent the distance between us.

  “See you,” she throws at me with a smile. “Happy Homecoming, Mr. MacBride.” That one is for my old man. She doesn’t mean it.

  My father waits for Cassie to leave completely before he starts mumbling. “That girl is trouble.”

  “That girl isn’t trouble,” I punch back. I always let my dad groan and moan. That’s his M.O., but not about Cassie. He knows I’d do anything for her and that scares him. He has big plans for me, but I have my own big plans with Cassie.