by Alex Rosa
Cameron laughs and is the one to reply, completely oblivious to my need to keep some sense of control and dignity with this topic. But he’s a guy. He doesn’t care or see the signs. Must be nice being a guy. “Yeah, the idiot just called it a day. Headed straight home. What a pussy.”
I grin and use the levity as my way off the topic. “Well, I’m happy to see you guys! We need to catch up. What have you been up to?”
Brandon finally jumps in, “Ya know, saving lives. Ms. Peterson called 911 the other day because she found a possum under her couch. Life or death in PineCrest, right?” He wiggles his brows. “All in a day’s work.”
I laugh, shaking my head, and the rounding hums in appreciation from the table have my laughter trailing off as I watch them inquisitively. “What is it?”
Brandon smiles, lifting a surprisingly gentle-giant hand to my elbow. “Your laugh. It’s just the way we remember it. Nice to hear, ya know? Considering…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, and I realize that these people care far more about me than I ever realized. They’re worried about me, and it doesn’t matter how much time has passed.
In this exact moment, I decide I will be better. For them and for myself. Like I said before, I’m no wilting flower, and these boys have never known me to be one. It’s time I start being me, regardless of the agony or heartbreak. Plus, I’ve never been in the business of worrying anybody.
My heart swells joyfully because maybe they can be jerks on occasion, but right now, they’re wonderful. I’m only two days in, and I feel ten times better than when I arrived.
“I could totally go for a group hug right now, but ya know, it’s not my style.” I spin my pen in my hand, trying to exaggerate my coolness… of which I have none.
Tyler elbows Brandon. “Hailey’s all grown up now, boys. She’s too good for us; big city girl and all.”
I reveal a full-toothed grin, and before I can mock them, Brandon grabs for my arm and yanks me over their laps.
Cameron rises from his seat to join us on that side of the booth. “I will NOT be left out of this group hug!” He wraps his arms around my waist, barreling his way into the bear hug, and I can’t stop my hysterical laughter.
“I’m working!” I squeal, wiggling my way out of their hold. “Let me go! A group hug could’ve waited… or at least could’ve been more organized!”
They all laugh as my ass slides out of the booth, hitting the linoleum. I try to ignore the patrons in the diner sharing in some of the laughs.
Cameron is decent enough to scoot back out and help me up. Our laughter twists around each other as he plants me firmly back on my feet, and that starting point of home feels like I just traveled a few more miles. I’m that much closer to normal. Trying to regain control over my face and stupid smile, I busy myself with smoothing out my apron.
“Ridiculous!” I gasp, biting my bottom lip to restrain my smirk. “Regardless of what just happened, I’m hoping I get to spend some quality time with you guys soon. I’m guessing I’ll be seeing you all at the fair.”
They nod. Brandon adds, “We look forward to it. We’re all going to come together to celebrate your mama, too.”
Cheers erupt from the table in gratitude and memory of my mom. Even though she’s gone, it becomes bearable to deal with knowing she was so loved.
“Awesome. Let me go put all of your orders in now.”
I give them a sweet smile and roll my eyes at Brandon, who wears smug like a badge of honor.
However, I don’t make it a few steps without overhearing Cameron whisper, “I don’t know what Caiden’s worried about. She’s the exact same, if not better.”
Chapter Four
I plop onto my couch, equipped with a blanket and pillow I pulled from the downstairs closet, ready for sleep. Working at the diner has definitely been a good idea, but CeeCee refused to let me stay full days into the evenings. She tried to bring up something about labor laws, blah-blah. I reminded her that I own the place while in a caffeinated stupor, but I wasn’t fooling her. She barked that I needed to find another distraction. She knows me too well.
PineCrest could never be considered an escape when every inhabitant knows you better than you know yourself. I’m not trying to distract myself so much, but more trying to solve the mystery of my missing sanity. Which will remain unsolved until I can lay eyes on the one person I shouldn’t.
I’ve worked the morning shift two days in a row, and by lunchtime each day, I had hoped to see him, but alas, Brandon and the crew appeared sans Caiden. He clearly didn’t want to see me. Surely a blessing in disguise, but I couldn’t ignore the little ache in my heart.
Okay, I’m lying. It hurts a lot more than a little.
Honk-honk. Honk.
My chest nearly explodes—I peer down at my shorts and oversized shirt, not knowing what’s appropriate and who’s honking. I rise, opening the front door to see CeeCee already trotting up the steps toward me decked out in a short pale blue dress and legs for days, a feature I’ve been jealous of since high school.
“You’re pathetic, you know that?”
“Excuse me?” I swing the screen door open, and a breeze wafts in with her. I love that summer nights are brisk.
“You. This.” Her index finger darts all over the length of my body. “It’s Friday night and you look like you’ve got a pint of ice cream as your date tonight. This is unacceptable.”
I bite my tongue, because there’s totally a pint of ice cream sitting in my freezer, along with booze in the fridge, and Doritos. Ya know? The essentials.
Okay, maybe I am pathetic.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“Get dressed. You haven’t been gone nearly five years to reappear and not be my wing girl. Put on something hot, please. And by please, I mean now.” She turns around to face the living room and stares at my open suitcase. “Still haven’t made it upstairs?”
I shake my head, grumbling as I walk over to it. It’s an industrial-sized suitcase I bought when I spent a month in Europe last year. I didn’t know how long I’d be staying, so I packed as much of my life into it as it would allow, resulting in a hefty overweight luggage fee.
“Where are we going?”
“O’Sullivan’s. So, be hot, but not fancy.”
I roll my eyes. “Do I have to go?”
It’s a locals’bar. I’ve never been there, seeing as I wasn’t old enough to get in the last time I was here, but I know it. Anyone who’s anyone in this town (and under forty) frequents O’Sullivan’s. The older folks do the biker bar thing up the road. O’Sullivan’s is as hip as this town gets, which will be a sight to see, I guess.
“You need a drink as much as I need a drink, just looking at you.”
“Is that supposed to convince me?” Unfortunately, it does. I dig through my suitcase. Drinks were on my agenda anyway, right?
I pull out a jean skirt that I might have packed for this exact potential occasion.
I remember my mother always making fun of me for being overly prepared for everything in life. I sigh, ripping the price tag off the skirt, then grab for a white crocheted top that hangs over my shoulder, and my combat boots. I never said I was conventional, and you’d have to bribe me to ever consider cowboy boots.
I’m dressed in record time and emerge from the bathroom. CeeCee releases a low whistle.
“I knew you could follow directions.”
“So, I look okay?”
She giggles. “I hate to say this, but LA has done you good. Not bad, Hails.”
“We need to work on how you compliment people.”
“Whatever. Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting.”
I’m barely out my front door before I’m back to a stuttering mess. “W-who’s waiting?”
CeeCee grabs for my hand, tugging me along. “Ask what you mean.” When I don’t respond, she continues. “Apparently, Caiden isn’t going to be there, no matter how much Brandon tries to convince him.”
Ouch.
She turns to me. “Oh, Hailey...”
Damn my stupid face. “It’s nothing; it doesn’t matter,” I squeak as I slip into her beat-up Jeep Wrangler.
“The hell, it doesn’t.” She sighs, shifting her car into gear and pulling out onto the road. “Just know it’s not because he doesn’t care. It’s the exact opposite.”
I know this. I’ve overrun my brain with the whys and the what-ifs that involve this elusive person. However, whether I like it or not, what I said before is still true: it doesn’t matter.
“I think you owe me a drink,” I reply.
She gifts me a tight smile and a nod. “Deal.”
When I stroll through the double doors and hear the beats of a popular rock band over the hum of the crowd, I’m already nodding my head in approval. It gives me hope. And when I see my friends hanging around a pool table, I want to find a home among them.
Brandon catches my stare from across the room. He lifts his arm and crooks his finger toward himself, signaling me over.
CeeCee pushes me forward as she says, “It’s good to have you here,” and I want to believe her.
“Baby Bird,” Brandon says as I approach. He taps his chin. “What are you doing wearing such a short skirt?”
“Since when do you care?” I quip despite his brotherly tone.
He grabs for his beer, sipping it before answering. “Uh, since I’m trying not to stare and keep this bro code in line.”
My fist flies out and jabs him in the arm. “Don’t be such a guy—and what bro code?”
“Thou must not covet thy bro’s ex-girlfriend, bro code.”
I laugh and then tense again. The fact that there are conversations involving Caiden and my name is unnerving, and infuriating.
“Where’s my drink?” I ask.
CeeCee reappears with glasses clinking. “On it! I’m the best wing girl ever. Don’t listen to a word Brandon says.”
“Cee, have more faith in me than that,” he replies with a wolfish grin.
She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. “I have no faith in you, but that’s beside the point. When am I beating you at pool?”
“Whatever,” he huffs while a new arm comes around Brandon’s shoulders, connected to a dopey-eyed Cameron.
“Ladies,” Cameron hums, apparently a few drinks in.
I laugh and sip the drink. The booze hits me hard and strong. “What is this?”
“Gin and tonic,” she chirps, sipping her own.
“Where’s the tonic?” I ask, but still take a large slurp, thinking I could use the liquid courage.
She giggles proudly. “Mission: Get Hailey Wasted is a go!”
Without missing a beat, Cameron walks between us. “On it. I’ll get the shots.”
“No, no, it’s totally okay, guys!”
It’s too late. Cameron is gone, and I might have reached the bottom of my drink already. I need to keep some sort of pace here to save my waning dignity.
By the time I’m back to paying attention, I’m catching the tail end of CeeCee berating Brandon, who’s taking the verbal lashing well, both of his hands resting securely on CeeCee’s hips. Interesting.
“You had one job, Brandon. One. And you totally failed.”
He releases her with only one hand, grabbing the glass. “I tried. I told you. He was being a little bitch about it. He’s all pouty and broody, and I can only take so much of that shit.”
She huffs, pushing her empty glass against his chest. “I want another drink. Two limes… please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And he’s off.
The interaction is baffling and kind of inspiring. I wish I’d brought a pen, but then again, writing in bars would just make me even more lame.
She turns around. “I’m sure he’ll get us both one.” She gives me a double eyebrow raise, but I’m too busy scanning the bar. “Looking for someone?”
“Nope… just scoping the scene. You forget that this is technically my first time here. You may like to think of me as a local, but I’ve been gone a long ti—”
“Shots!” Cameron shouts, placing a full tray on the table next to us.
I release a long sigh, finding the grungy darkness welcoming and the atmosphere far from stressful even though the bar is packed. I almost feel like I could hide among the crowd. As faces shoot glances my way, it occurs to me that I must have gone to school with some of the people here. They’re all around my age.
I turn around at the thought. I don’t think I’m ready for a high school reunion tonight.
CeeCee was right. Brandon returns with drinks for both of us, and I’m so curious what their deal is.
Brandon gives me a nudge. “Stop those cogs turning in that brain of yours right now.”
“What?” I ask with a sly grin. “You and CeeCee, huh?”
“I told you, there isn’t anything there. Just some fun.”
“You are so full of shit.”
He laughs. “And so are you. Now, drink up.” He hands me my fresh gin and tonic in one hand and gives me a shot in the other.
This is too much, but then CeeCee shouts, “To Hailey! Welcome back to our daydreamer, our go-getter, and our friend!”
I shake my head back and forth, trying to fight their kindness, feeling my face go red, but I can’t stop smiling. Everyone clinks their glasses with mine clumsily, and I can’t help but laugh. CeeCee winks at me as she brings her shot glass to her lips, and I follow suit.
A chilled caramel flavor slides smoothly down my throat, and I’m greeted with the goofiest smiles from every one of my friends. My heart feels full, and my face feels warm. For a second, I feel like I belong again. Almost like I never left.
I like that we’re older now. The memories I have of when we drank before were always us sneaking bottles out of our parents’ liquor cabinets and avoiding the cops.
Times have changed, but we’re still intact… kind of.
I sigh, realizing that something is missing. We’re not complete. Especially since we all have our other halves. You could assume CeeCee would be mine, but it’s obvious she has Brandon as her other half, and Caiden was technically mine. He always had a place right under my skin, whether I wanted him there or not. He had that effect on me since we were kids. It’s a shame he’s being such a coward about—
“Well, I’ll be dammed,” I hear sputter from Brandon’s lips.
I look at him first, but all my friends are already staring at the door to the bar behind me. I’m terrified to turn around.
Brandon and the boys disperse with secret smiles back to the pool table, beers in hand.
I swallow my nerves. They must be looking at Caiden, right? What else would spark such drama?
I turn around slowly.
My eyes lock on to a guy—I’m almost not sure if it’s him—but my body knows. A vibrating hum starts in my gut and ripples like waves over the surface of my skin.
Caiden.
He walks into the bar with what seems like frantic determination. His eyebrows furrow, seeking out something, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other. My chest constricts, and I clench my fists while trying to fight for air. Five years has done him good, and I decide that maybe I should be mad at him for it. I hate that he fills out his jeans and his simple maroon thermal to near perfection. He drags his hands through his sandy-brown hair that’s been visibly kissed by the sun, and I know it’s only a matter of time until he finds what he’s looking for.
“Leave it to Caiden to say no and then do it anyway,” whispers CeeCee beside me.
I don’t think I’m supposed to hear her, but she’s right. It does sound like him. So much so that it makes his adult appearance a tiny bit more bearable.
CeeCee’s elbow jabs into my side, forcing me to look away.
“What?” I gasp.
She smiles. “You didn’t want me to talk about him before, but he’s taken, you know?”
“He’s what?”
CeeCee’s smile only grows. “But it doesn
’t matter.”
I squint. So, this is how she’s going to get me to talk. “You’re right. It doesn’t. He can date whoever he wants.”
She rolls her eyes, realizing her plan to pry information has failed. She retaliates by swiftly walking back to the pool table without another word, leaving me out in the open like a defenseless gazelle. Damn her.
I think I need fresh air. I’m not running; I just need oxygen and space… and whatever. I take a large pull of liquor from my straw, slurping the last bit from beneath the ice, and set it down with a clank.
When I turn back around, Caiden is already standing there a mere five feet away. His eyes are still the color of lush trees in the middle of spring, and all I can do is stare.
He’s not smiling, but he’s not frowning either. Do I know this Caiden anymore?
He’s more like an actual man than I remember. His jaw is more pronounced, accentuating his striking features even under a layer of dark scruff.
His arms are crossed over his broad chest. I’d remember that chest; it’s not anywhere near the slimmer stature it was when we were eighteen. In the darkness, I can make out tattoos on his right arm peeking out from his long sleeve. The sight has my heart winding up like a propeller to a helicopter. The only thing I recognize are his eyes. With each second of silence, his eyes seem to chip away at me, like they always have. He’d win arguments by doing this exact thing. My lips twitch, and so do his, as if he remembers, too.
“Hi, Hailey,” he says in a dark-chocolate tone that I surely don’t remember, but my heart seems to as it jumps to my throat. “It’s been a while.”
I nod. He nods. We nod, like utter, complete strangers. It’s painful.
“I think I need another drink,” flies out of my mouth, and I move past him.
This new version of Caiden still can’t avoid his look of shock as he watches me walk toward the bar.
Sure enough, he comes jogging up to my side, and like a cosmic vacuum, he takes my breath away. I no longer think I need air; I know I do.