There was nothing I wanted more than that, especially while she was in my arms. I wanted her there. I wanted to hold her close while she sang in my ear, because that was where she belonged. With me. In my arms. Mouth next to my neck. Music flowing from her lips right into my ear.
Her hum changed into a soft singing, so low that it could have been missed had I not been waiting. It’d been a long time since I’d heard her sing, since I had her close, and it was wrong and selfish, but I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to listen.
I’d always thought Cass singing was something too personal for even me. She was like that. She found something that she loved, something that she was too afraid to lose, then she took it and held it close. Once we found a snail with a blue shell in the woods, and she thought it was beautiful so she took it home and put it in a Mason jar. It was something so precious to her that she didn’t know how to share it. Sort of like I’d used to think I was to her. Always how she’d been to me.
Cass was afraid to lose things, and that fear kept her from sharing them; but eventually without room to breathe and space to move, she killed them. Just like that snail in the jar. Just like us.
Cassie’s lips barely grazed my neck, and I pulled away before the song was over. She seemed as surprised as I was. I don’t know if she meant anything by it, but I felt everything with that barely there touch. Things I wasn’t supposed to feel. Those feelings lead to me being hurt. I couldn’t be selfish this time. That never ended well with us. Not for me.
“I should get back to it,” I said.
Cass nodded, and went back into the kitchen. I couldn’t read her face, but that was probably for the best. I started working on the wall again, more determined to separate myself from the Harlen women than I was before. I stole one last glance at her and realized I still didn’t know if Cassie was the snail or the jar, but I did know I couldn’t stay around to find out.
16.
Cassie
GRAHAM STAYED ON his side of the room and barely even looked in my direction after the dance. It was so awkward now. More than before. I shouldn’t have danced with him, but the song changed to Sinatra, and I’d thought to myself, I should step away. I’d hummed the words, because “You Go To My Head” was exactly how I’d felt. I don’t even know what possessed my lips to get that close to his skin.
Graham had a girlfriend; I had no right to want to dance with him anymore, or be that close to him. But it was so normal to be in his arms again that I didn’t want to end it. I didn’t want there to be distance between us. I’d rested my head on his chest without thinking, and we’d moved with ease. I stole a glance up at his face, and he’d seemed to be lost in thought, and it just happened.
God. I was an idiot. I didn’t know what to say.
I looked up at him from the kitchen. Music and lyrics rushed through my head, and I wrote them down as quickly as I could in my notebook.
It’s crazy the way you go to my head // after all this time of words unsaid // I want to tell you the reason why // I had to leave, I had to lie // I hope we can repair the part // of me that exists in your heart // because I still can’t figure out // how to move on from all this doubt // not of you but of me // and the reason we can never be
If only it was that easy. How could I tell him any of this without it making me selfish? Yes, I still loved him, but he had definitely made changes in his life. It made me wonder if I had been holding him back somehow. Was he happy now? Happier than he was with me? All I did was bring drama into his life with my problems. He had to be better now without my burdens. I didn’t even deserve to be his friend. Could I be his friend after everything?
“I’m going to go now,” Graham said from across the room. I looked at him from my notebook, and watched as he closed up his toolbox. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Just say it, Cassie.
Just say something. Apologize. Do something. Make it count.
“Thanks,” I said. Graham nodded and then he left. So much for making it count.
If I wanted to be in his life, I had to start somewhere else. I read over the lyrics I’d written, I knew it had to be at the beginning. That was all I had wanted—to make it right—and even though being around made me want something more, I wouldn’t be able to have that.
17.
Graham
THE NEXT MORNING, Bobby met me outside by my truck. I didn’t really like Bobby, but he was the only one who would work for free since he owed me a favor after ditching three projects. Honestly, I was surprised he showed up at all.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
“Fixing a wall. Easy repair. A day, maybe two.”
He nodded and spit some of his chewing tobacco on the ground. He walked with me to Cass’s house. Joyce let us in, all smiles and nods when I introduced Bobby. Cass wasn’t as enthusiastic. Bobby had been a year ahead of me in school, and two ahead of her, and when he saw Cass, he acted like he was her best friend.
“Cassie Harlen!” Bobby said, wrapping his arms around her. She squirmed, and tried to pull away, but he didn’t take the hint.
“Bobby Littrell,” she said weakly. He held on, and with every second, I felt myself getting annoyed. I shouldn’t have felt like that, but I did.
He finally let go of her.
Cass plastered on a smile, but I knew it was fake. Through her teeth she said, “Graham didn’t mention you were coming.”
“Two person job,” I said. She sent me her annoyed look. At least she hadn’t changed so much that I couldn’t read her facial expressions. “We’ll be in and out,” I said.
Bobby laughed. “That’s what she said.”
Cass forced a bigger smile, and turned on her heel away from us. I wanted to get this job done and get out of here. Bobby was merely here to run interference. I knew if he was here, Cass wouldn’t come near me. I wanted her near me, so the barrier was needed.
“Are you still seeing her?” Bobby asked.
“What?”
“You know, is she available for…” He made a circle with one hand, and pushed the other finger through it. I wanted to punch him. He stared at me. Was he seriously waiting for an answer?
“She’s not available,” I snapped.
“Oh, so you two are…?” he asked. I stared at him. “What happened to your other one?”
“I’m not.”
“So she is?”
“No,” I snapped. Bobby looked like he was going to say something else so I said, “She’s not into guys anymore.”
Bobby smiled. “Hot.”
I really wanted to punch him.
18.
Graham
I RE-ROUTED MY morning run to go away from the Harlen house. Avoidance seemed the best way to go, and almost a month in I still didn’t know what to say to Cass, or what not to say, or why I even wanted to be in her life. It was easier to not be. Then I could leave this town the next chance I got and Cass wouldn’t miss me. It was a good plan. It was already the middle of May; I could make it another few months.
I rounded the corner near my place and Cassie was outside my door.
Or not.
My stomach jumped at the sight of her. How could she prance over here in that little blue sundress like it was nothing?
It is nothing. And that dress was just a piece of fabric that made her legs look really long.
Every time I saw her it was like being punched in the fucking gut. That’s why I really re-routed my run, why I didn’t answer when she texted me, and why I made sure to be as out of her life as possible.
“Hey,” she said.
Fuck me.
“Hey,” I said back, not looking at her, but I could still see her in my peripheral vision. Her short hair tucked behind her ear, as she shifted on her feet and bit the side of her jaw. That little blue dress and the way it flowed off her hips and hit her thigh. She stepped in front of me so I was forced to look down at her.
“Can we be friends?” she asked.
Of all the thin
gs I imagined Cassie Harlen might say to me, that was not one of them. Can we be friends? What could that even be? Could we go back to friends after everything? Hell.
“I just mean—” she started. She crossed and uncrossed her arms. “I know things have been weird with us, but I’m here now. I’m back. And you’re here and you live next door. You are important to me, Graham.”
“Important?” I raised an eyebrow. I didn’t know what that meant. I was important to her when I proposed, when she said yes, and when she left. I didn’t want to be that important to her.
She nodded. “I know I destroyed your trust, but I would like to start over. As friends.”
“Start over.” I let the words roll off my tongue. Start over with Cass.
I’d hoped for that so many times before. That one day she’d wake up and come home and ask me to start over. In all my imaginary scenarios, I agreed. But now, but this, today, I didn’t know what starting over would mean. I started to shake my head when she touched my arm. Did she know touching my arm felt like a thousand needles all over my body? She dropped her hand back to her side.
Cass bit the side of her jaw. At least this was weird for her. Me too. “You were my best friend for all my life, and it would mean a lot if you would still like to be some sort of friend. I hate that you live here and I can’t even come say hello. I want to hang out with you and it not be weird.”
“Not be weird?” I asked. I was only repeating what she was saying, but it was trying to sink in. Cassie wanted to be my friend. She wanted to start over, as some sort of friend. For it not to be weird. It was definitely weird. It would always be weird.
“Can we try?” she asked.
I glanced off into the distance, away from her face so things could make sense.
She was right. We’d been best friends before. Way before I kissed her and long after that. We had a relationship before we were together; maybe we could have a messed up, semi-one now. That was how friendships started, so it could be natural if we started at awkward. I’d already seen her naked—a lot—and she’d already broken my heart, so I didn’t need to expect anything else from her.
Plus, I had nothing she could break this time.
“I don’t know,” I said. Her smile deflated, and that did me in. “I mean, we can try.”
17.
Cassie
VOICES DRIFTED UP to me from downstairs, and I paused to listen. It was Graham, and I bolted down the stairs as quickly as I could. He stood in the kitchen, arm outstretched on the doorframe and looking out the back door into the yard. Just having him near made me smile. It was automatic, like breathing, natural. I paused to study him there; the boy I’d always loved, the boy who knew every single part of me better than I did. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t have to in order to know every curve of it. It was in my memory, burned there like his touch and his lips and his laugh. Graham Tucker was part of me, a large part, and that would never change.
I told him two days ago that I wanted to be friends, and I did. I could accept that we were different, that I couldn’t be with him, and I would be okay. But never speaking to him again wasn’t something I couldn’t give up. The thought of it knotted up my stomach. I wanted to be able to be only his friend, at least partly, but Graham still had so much of me. I hoped I could move on as much as I wanted to, as much as he had.
Mom was pointing out a few spaces around the house when I cleared my throat.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Mom waved me off. “Graham is going to fix the AC. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Graham looked me up and down. I was still in my pajamas—a pair of short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top. Graham’s eyes explored every inch of me, and his gaze on me gave me goosebumps. A slight flush filled his cheeks, and I thought of before. How before there would be no lingering looks, but him pulling me into his arms and giving in to any impulse. How his lips would trace paths on my neck, and his fingers would trail over my skin.
I met Graham’s gaze, and saw the familiar look of desire there. I wasn’t the only one remembering. If he was remembering, did that mean he wanted us again? I shook my head. Stop thinking about that. You’re friends now.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll get started.”
Then he was out the front door. I gave Mom a disapproving look. “What are you doing?”
Mom shrugged, and slid her shoes on. “He’s good at fixing things. He did it all the time while you were gone.”
“I’m not gone now.”
“Do you know how to fix the air conditioner?” she asked.
I shook my head. Mom looked at me for a second, appraising and satisfied with herself. Then, she poured me a glass of sweet tea. “Are you coming with me today? Dr. Lambert really wants to do the family session.”
Family session. Dr. Lambert thought it would be good for both of us to speak with her. It would help me get some answers and closure; it would help Mom understand what her episodes did to me and why it was important for her to stay on her meds. The whole thing seemed like a bad idea, which was why I’d been avoiding it for three weeks now. I didn’t want to talk about the past, about the mistakes. I wanted to move forward.
“Can we do it later?” I asked.
Mom sighed. “What are you going to do here all day? Stalk Graham?”
“I don’t stalk,” I said, grabbing my tea and sitting at the bar.
She huffed and kissed my head. “You should talk to him.”
“I did. We agreed to be friends a few days ago. He even answered one of my texts.” Even the word was strange. Graham and I were friends. Not best friends. Not enemies or exes. Friends.
“Friends?” Mom asked.
I nodded. Mom didn’t say anything else, but I could tell she had other thoughts. Luckily, I didn’t have to ask what they were because the car honked, and she left to go to therapy.
I watched Graham from the window. This was not stalking. He met my gaze, and I didn’t move. We stared at each other through the glass, and my mind drifted from Mom’s words to the memory of his touch and my heart raced. I touched a finger to my lips, and Graham broke his stance outside with a weak wave. I waved back before bolting upstairs.
I can be your friend // I can lend a hand/ I can smile // nod and tell you my plans // I can listen, pretend // call you my friend // but in my heart // you’ll be more // what you were before // with your lips // and your hands // and the way we began // all fire and spark // and every inch of my heart // it’s what I want you to be again // and none of that is like a friend
18.
Graham
I THREW A hammer at the air conditioning system. Piece of shit thing. I didn’t know what was wrong with it. Everything should be working. All the wires were connected but the fan wouldn’t start. This thing was probably a goner.
“Want some water?” Cass asked. I glanced up and she came toward me with a glass of water. With each step something inside me jumped in anticipation of being near her. I’d been thinking about her all morning, ever since I saw her in the hallway and she looked so beautiful there. Earlier when I watched her through the window, before she saw me, and just stared because having her here, even though she wasn’t with me, was right. I hated myself for it; I wanted to see her and feel nothing.
But I did. I felt more than I wanted to admit. I was probably a goner, too.
She held out the glass, and our fingers grazed. I let my fingers linger near hers, her cool, smooth skin to my warm, rough skin. It was perfectly comfortable, like my hands were supposed to be there. Except they aren’t.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling back the glass.
Cassie nodded. “Any luck?”
I gulped the water down in one sip. “No idea.”
“Thanks for checking it out,” she said.
“I think I’m going to go,” I said. “You should call someone else about it.”
“Okay,” she said, moving to sit on the steps.
I guess that was
it. I gathered my tools and my flannel and took a couple steps toward my house. Something stopped me. She seemed upset about something. Don’t talk to her about this. Walk away.
“You okay?” I asked. So much for walking away.
I lowered myself next to her on the step. We sat close together there, legs only less than an inch from touching. I knew it was as close as I could get before I lost control of my senses. Cass stretched one arm out over her leg so her fingers dangled at her knee. Her fingertips brushed my leg, and it was only a second, but it sent shocks through my body. My fingers twitched to reach out for hers, to connect our bodies in some simple way so she was part of me again. Being around her was a drug, and I wanted to have some. Any closer and I’d be in trouble.
“It’s hard being here, you know?”
Shit, I knew. It was always hard being here, especially after all this. She was different now, and I still didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I’d done to her to make her leave like that. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t think I’d like the answer. If we were moving on, there was no reason to drudge it up.
“I thought I had it together, and now I’m back and I feel like I don’t know where I’m going next. What happens tomorrow?”
I scoffed. We’d had this conversation a hundred times in our life. Cassie was never sure of where she wanted to be; as long as it wasn’t Lumberton, North Carolina, she would be happy. I lowered myself to the spot beside her.
“You can’t live your life in fear of what could be or you’ll never live it.”
Cass looked at me, her blue eyes piercing into mine. “That’s the Graham I know.”
“I’m still the same.” You’re the one who’s changed.
“No, you’re not, Mikey.”
She laughed and bumped my shoulder. My whole body responded to the touch, and it seemed like every cell of me was a frayed nerve ending that Cass could make react. I gritted my teeth to hold myself back from her. How could her being gone make her touch more electric than before?
Days Like This Page 7
