Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Cassie

“Oh my god, you actually brought her,” Sutton said, sitting bolt-upright, wide-eyed at the sight of me there next to Parker. “Holy crap. Oh my god, I’m not ready to meet a celebrity. I need my makeup team.”

The hospital room was jam-packed with flowers. Sutton, the red-haired girl with the beautiful deep brown eyes, a cast on one arm and the opposite leg, must have been a popular girl. Maybe I was the one who should have been ready to meet a celebrity.

“What are you talking about?” I said, giving Sutton my biggest smile. “You’ve got the natural makeup look down. Or are you telling me your skin’s just naturally that flawless?”

“Ugh, barf,” Parker said. “Don’t compliment my sister in front of me.”

“Holy shit, she’s complimenting me,” Sutton said, looking over at Parker. “What the fuck do I do?”

“Christ, Sutton, you’re fourteen years old,” Parker said, hands up as she sat down by the bedside. “Quit cursing like a sailor. At least act decent for company.”

“Relax,” I said, sitting down next to Parker. “I’m nobody super special. I’m just me. It’s great to meet you, Sutton.”

“Yeah…” Sutton looked me over slowly. “Wow. You’re even prettier in person. Be good to her, Parker.”

Ah… my heart. The flutters nearly killed me. Parker just gave her a deadpan stare. “Dude, I’ll unplug your life support.”

“I’m not on life support, dumbass. It’s one little cast.”

“Clearly, it is two of them.”

I put a hand up. “You know, I just had an autograph session back in ‘Drea earlier today, but I don’t think it’s fair you didn’t get to make it. Did you want an autograph? You could get a double one from me and Parker—”

“Oh, no way, I don’t want Parker’s autograph,” Sutton laughed. “But I’d literally kill a man for yours.”

“Unlike you, Unicorn,” Parker sighed, “when she says literally, she actually means it.”

I plastered on a smile. “Wow. That’s, uh, concerning. But also really flattering! I’d be honored to sign something for you. Parker said you wanted a selfie, too.”

“Yeah, my friends are gonna be so jealous. I’ll be so popular.”

“Well, you’re, uh…” I scratched my head. “I mean, you’re upfront with your intentions. That’s good!”

After a few minutes for signing and selfies, Parker stood up, looking at her phone. “Hang on,” she said. “It’s, uh… my mom.”

There was that uncertain quiver in her voice again. I squeezed her wrist. “Take your time, Scruffy. I’ll keep Sutton from killing anyone while you’re gone.”

“Thanks, Unicorn.” She met my eyes for one powerful, charged second before she was gone from the room, leaving me alone with Sutton, whose whole demeanor shifted the instant the door slid shut behind Parker.

“So,” she said, sitting more upright, an intense look in her eyes. “You and Parker are a thing, right?”

I nearly fell out of the chair. “Uh—what makes you say that?” I said, my voice going way too high to sound natural. Whoops.

“Uh, dude. Everyone with at least half a braincell knows you two are girlfrieeeends,” she sang, stretching out the last word, as though it wasn’t already making my heart do acrobatics. I put my hands up.

“I’m… I mean, it’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What did Parker tell you?” I said, feeling my face flush with heat. Sutton grinned like the cat who got the canary.

“Oh, not much. Just that she’s totally into you.”

My heart couldn’t take this. I felt lightheaded. “She didn’t say that,” I mumbled, looking down.

“Oh, she so did. So? She told me you’re straight, but I don’t buy it. The way you look at Parker is totally not platonic.”

“You’re, uh… very invested in your sister’s love life.”

She put her good hand up. “Uh, duh? I want to know if she’s going to start bringing over Cassie Peterson herself to Thanksgiving dinners.”

I stared down at the floor. “Okay, I’m, uh… not straight. And yes, I, uh… I like Parker. A lot. And she knows I do. But—”

“But she’s too chickenshit to do something about it.”

I frowned. “I’m telling Parker you said that word.”

“Ugh, god. Everyone’s the word police around here.” She rolled her eyes like it was her calling.

“There’s just… a lot, you know? I can’t afford what would happen if I came out publicly. And Parker doesn’t do relationships and all that.”

“Yeah, because she’s too chickenshit.” She rolled her eyes again. “Sorry. Chicken poop. Is that better? Are we PG now?”

“She’s got a lot on her plate. And she’s gone through a lot, too,” I said, slowly realizing myself what she had gone through. No wonder she thought love and connections and attachments were too much work, if her formative experiences with the idea was her family giving her bills to pay for the luxury of parental love.

If she felt like she was this close to getting out of that debtor’s prison, why would she want to get into another one?

I could tell her I wasn’t going to expect things of her, make demands, but just telling her could only go so far.

“And I’m not pressuring her,” I went on, “or rushing her into anything. We’re roommates. And best friends. And, you know… if it goes anywhere else, then I’ll let you know.”

She rolled her eyes, which I was getting the impression was one of her proudest talents. “Ugh, you’re both chicken poop. Look, Parker’s really into you. It’s weird watching it, because she never gets close with anyone. She tries to be difficult because she thinks it’ll just drive everyone off, and then she won’t have to deal with confronting her own insecurities.”

“You, uh… don’t seem to have the highest opinion of her?”

She snorted. “She’s my boring older sister who never comes home, and when she does, all she does is sit on her phone answering emails. She’s got one redeeming trait, and that’s that she gave me a punching bag for Christmas one year and told me the most formative part of growing up is getting to the point where you want to punch people.”

Well, they had an interesting relationship. I plastered on a smile. “I am so glad she gave you that present, then. That’s really sweet of her.”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t call her nice, though, she’ll throw a fit.”

I laughed. “I’ve noticed. She’s a lot sweeter than she lets on.”

“Cassie and Parker, sitting in a tree—”

“Oh my god, we are not sitting in a tree,” I blurted, feeling my face heat. “And even if we were, we wouldn’t be doing a thing up there.”

“You two are so into each other,” she said, her tone the same deadpan as Parker’s.

There was a knock before the door slid back open behind us, Parker leaning in. My heart jumped, wondering how much she heard, even though—well—it wasn’t like there was anything to keep secret from her. “Hey,” she said, that rare little crease of worry on her forehead. “I’m meeting my mom in the lobby in a minute. There’s a nonzero chance she might want to come up here, in which case… well, Cass, you’ve been warned.”

How exactly did I convey to her that I would have loved to see her mother, to know all the aspects of her life that other people didn’t? “I’ve been warned,” I agreed, putting my hands up. “I’ll put on my biggest smile. You know how big I can smile.”

“God, it’s big,” Parker said, shutting the door back behind her. Sutton groaned.

“Ugh. Case in point. Couple of lovebirds.”

I turned back to her, but her expression was more sincere than before. She looked away.

“Look, Parker never really connects with anyone. She’s standoffish like that. I’ve never seen her with anyone like she is with you. I mean—hell, she even brought you to meet the family. She’s literally never done that with anybody.”

“Not even when she was younger?”

“Her whole I don’t need anyone but me schtick started in high school, from what I hear,” she said, shrugging. “I was five, so I don’t really know, but Mom says she started reselling crap online then, making money for herself, and as soon as she did, she was suddenly all it’s me against the world.”

Sutton being five would have put that nine years ago. Suddenly, the picture made a little more sense. Parker started making money in little side ventures online, and immediately, her parents were asking for some of that money for themselves. No wonder Parker got cold and distant with her family around that time—at least, as much as you could call someone cold when they were sending you thousands of dollars they didn’t have any obligation to give you.

“The point is,” Sutton said, picking at her bedding, “uh… Parker told me she’s actually been doing a lot to support the family. And I know you’ve been a part of her business, so, like… thanks, and stuff.”

I looked down, folding my hands in my lap. “Yeah… she told me about that.”

Her head whipped up. “She did? Seriously?”

“Uh—yes. Why were you telling me if you thought she hadn’t come out with it yet?”

“Because—dude, obviously because she should have told you. But, like…” She shrugged. “Cassie, she’s, like, so in love with you. She tells you about her past, introduces you to her family…”

My heart bled just listening. I wrung my hands in my lap. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t—”

“She doesn’t talk about her family, either. But looks like you’re the exception.” She put her good hand up. “Look, Parker sucks at doing what’s good for her. You have to ask.”

I had asked. Plenty. But I wasn’t about to dump my love woes onto a child. “Thanks, Sutton,” I said, putting on a smile. “For right now, we’re just focusing on her company.”

“That company’s her whole life. If anything happens to it, make sure she’s got you to fill the void.”

I cleared my throat. “That’s an awful lot of responsibility to put onto somebody you just met, isn’t it, Sutton?”

But Sutton’s words kept echoing in my mind, making my heart race. What if, I thought. If Parker really did make all these exceptions for me—what if I really was special to her? What if we actually could be something real?

When the door slid open again, Parker was by herself, a massive iced latte in hand, and she took a sip before she handed it over to me. “Lucky break,” she said. “My mom couldn’t be bothered.”

“Uh, did you tell her your girlfriend is here?” Sutton said while I sipped the drink, and I almost spat it.

“I’m not—”

“Dude, if I said Cass was my girlfriend, she’d be up here with a rubric sitting her down for an evaluation of character. Or an evaluation of income, more likely. Even if Unicorn and I were an item, I wouldn’t subject her to my mom.”

I chewed my cheek as Parker took the drink back and took another small sip. “You could subject me to it,” I said. “I want to make a good impression on the parents, after all.”

I didn’t know why I said it. Maybe Sutton was getting to me. But Parker just stared at me, the straw in her mouth, studying, before she let it go with a pop and said, “Well, maybe you’ll have the misfortune of running into her next time.”

Sutton and I exchanged heartfelt goodbyes before we left, and the rest of the trip back to the train station, Parker and I were nearly silent. By the time we were sitting together on the train, the latte was half empty, and this time, Parker rested her head on my shoulder the moment we sat down. I took her hand again, and she squeezed without hesitating.

“Sorry to spring this on you out of nowhere,” she said, her voice small.

“It was really wonderful,” I said, not sure how to sum up everything it meant to me. “Did you mean it, about there being a next time?”

She was quiet for a little while before she said, “What, meeting my family again?”

My heart thrummed hard. I should have pulled back. But Sutton’s words kept bouncing around in my head, and they spurred me on. “I’d like to,” I said.

She sighed. “Cassie…”

“Did—you just use my actual name?”

She turned her head into me, burying her face into my side. “What is it with you?”

“With me—what?” My heart was going wild. I didn’t know if this was amazing or awful. “What did I do? Is it because of the morning miracle tomorrow?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that. You’re killing the mood.” She squeezed my hand tighter. “I swear, I’ve been trying so hard not to like you.”

I chewed my lip. I didn’t know anything could ever feel this high-stakes. “What made you decide to bring me out to meet Sutton?”

“Eh… she was asking and she gets really pushy.”

I squeezed her hand. “If you don’t tell the truth, I’m hogging the rest of this drink the whole ride home, dearest.”

“No. Please. I need it.” She turned back to the window, watching as stars rolled by overhead. “It’s because I… wanted to show you that I do care. You were worried yesterday that I didn’t. That I didn’t want you to find out things just because I didn’t care about you enough, or something. And I guess I just wanted to see how it felt, too. You know—to tell someone these things.”

I rested my head on top of hers, my foot bouncing with a nervous energy on the car floor. “And… how did it feel?”

She was quiet for maybe five solid minutes, just riding by with nothing but the sound of the train thumping underneath us, thu-thunk, thu-thunk. When she finally spoke, it was in a whisper.

“Pretty all right,” she said.

I squeezed her hand. “That’s another Parker understatement, isn’t it?”

“Shush. You’re implying I’m nice. I won’t have it.”

I love you. How on earth could I say something like that, when we weren’t even together? But I did. How else could I describe the way I felt when I looked at Parker—like she was another part of me, like she was the one constant in my life, like she was what my whole world revolved around?

“Thanks for bringing me tonight,” I said, quietly. “Sutton is, um… interesting.”

She snorted. “That’s a word for it.”

“I mean, I like her. She’s sweet. If, um…” I shrugged. “Interesting.”

“Yeah, we can, uh… do it again sometime, I guess,” she said, toeing the spot on the seat in front of her again. “If you want. There’s not much to see in Brightstown, but I guess I could show you the town I grew up in. I warn you, though, it’s pretty boring.”

I squeezed her hand, resting my head against hers, and I breathed in the sweetness of the way she smelled. “I would love that.”

We didn’t talk a word about anything when we got home. Instead, I hung my bag up on the rack by the door, and I’d barely finished stepping out of my shoes before Parker turned around, took me by the wrists, and rose on her tiptoes to meet me in a kiss.

I should have pulled away—should have backed off, asked her clearly what it meant this time, what we were, what she wanted, what we could be. But Athena was right—Parker was skittish as a squirrel, and I didn’t want to scare her away. If I asked her anything like that, made her overthink this, she might have stopped kissing me.

And when her lips met mine, sweet salvation in the peppermint lip balm she had on, heat flowing languid through me at the touch, how was I supposed to stop?

My coat came off, draped over the back of a chair. Her jacket fell to the floor. She walked me backwards across the room, kissing the whole way, until I crashed down onto my back on the couch, Parker on top of me. I touched my hands to the line of exposed skin just above her pants, and she beckoned me on with the soft moan she made against my lips.

I love you. I couldn’t say it. Maybe I would one day—maybe one day soon—but for right now, I could only say it with my body, with my touch on her skin, my lips against hers.

Our clothes fell to the floor, a spark became a flame, and we burned like wildfire all through the night.