Page 50 of Just Between Us

Same. He needs some time. You know how he is. Let’s have dinner together this week. Love you, sis.

Love you, too.

Penny’s text makes me smile, and I navigate to my notes app, my eyes tracing the list. Each checkmark is a small reclamation of my soul. I hover over “Make some friends” and tap the screen, the little black check mark appearing with a satisfying finality.

Cassie’s Path Back

Do something that terrifies me

Make some friends

Sing in public

Volunteer in the community

Do something low-key illegal

Witness something beautiful

Get to know my mom

Friendships have never come easy for me. Well, not once Austin became famous, at least. Girls would befriend me, and I’d find out later they were only trying to get close to Austin. It was constant in high school. College less so, but it still happened from time to time. Keeping my guard up was exhausting, watching for any signs whether I could trust someone or not.

But here I am, two months into living in Singing River, and it’s safe to say Penny and Josie are real, true friends.

And then there’s Liam. Friend is a pale, inadequate word for him, even with the distance that has stretched between us lately.

Ever since I’d stayed the night and witnessed that raw, haunting moment where I watched him play the piano as though he were trying to exorcise a demon, he’s been fortifyinghis walls. He seemed fine when we sang karaoke, but since that night he’s headed to Nashville more and more. I have no claim on him, yet the green flame of envy licks behind my ribs whenever I think of what or who attracts him to the city, despite his denial that there’s no one there.

I wish he’d trust me with whatever he carries. I’ve shown him my deepest hurts. He’s witnessed my pain intimately. All I want is to somehow help him in the same way. But when he’s working through things he disappears. In most situations, intuition tells me when to press and when to give space, but with Liam, my gauge is off.

Scrolling to our text thread, I type out a message:

What do you do in Nashville?

Delete, delete, delete.

It’s none of my business. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me. So I try again.

Are you in town?

My thumb hovers over the send button for a heartbeat before finally I hit it and wait for a response.

A text bubble appears, then disappears. But a few seconds later a response appears.

My Favorite Person

I am.

I go back to my list, my eyes zeroing in on one in particular and before logic can talk me out of it, I type:

Want to do something low-key illegal?

My Favorite Person

I’m always up for illegal activity of the low-key variety. What do ya have in mind?

Thirty minutes later, I’m cutting my engine in front of Liam’s house.