Page 49 of After the Snap

“This is bullshit.” Easton stares at his plate, then at both of us.

“You’ll survive.” I bite into one of the fries while he mutters something about betrayal, only realizing when I reach for the second that I’ve stopped thinking about leaving.

“Okay.” Tuck points at me from across the table. “I need you to settle something.”

“That depends entirely on whether you’re going to be annoying about the answer.”

“He’s going to be annoying regardless,” Whit says.

“See? This is why I need an impartial third party.”

“You barely knew her before she disappeared on us,” Easton grumbles, picking at what’s left of his fries. “How is she impartial?”

“Because I’ve known her long enough to know she likes me better.”

“I absolutely do not.”

Tuck presses a hand to his chest. “Callie.”

“What? You wanted me to be impartial.”

“You used to be nicer to me.”

“I was seventeen. I’ve grown up.”

Whit laughs under his breath as Tuck turns to him like he’s been personally wronged. I smile before taking another bite, and Easton bumps his knee against mine under the table.

It shouldn’t feel strange to sit here when I’ve eaten more meals in this building than I can count, usually with homework spread across whatever table Dad could find for me. Whit used to make sure my favorite snacks were here because Dad never remembered them, and I knew exactly where to disappear when the attention became too much. I hadn’t realized how much I missed any of that until Easton stole my pickle.

I don’t miss losing entire weekends to a schedule everyone else in my life treated like scripture, and I definitely don’t miss being introduced as Coach Quinn’s daughter before anyone bothered asking my name. But sitting here laughing with them is harder to lump in with everything else I wanted distance from.

Tuck slides a plate full of fries closer to me while Easton is distracted, putting a finger to his lips when I look at him. The conspiratorial grin is familiar enough to take me straight back to when I was seventeen, and Tuck was still the new guy around here. He somehow always ended up in the middle of whatever trouble Easton was causing. I bite down on my smile and grab another fry, slipping it into my mouth just as Easton turns back. His eyes narrow on me before dropping slowly to his plate.

“Tuck, you’re dead to me.”

“Worth it.”

My laugh disappears into my hand, but not quickly enough to keep Easton from seeing it. He shakes his head at me, fighting his own smile as he drags his plate closer to his chest. “You’ve been back five minutes, and you’re already causing problems.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Easton gives me a look that makes Tuck snort into his drink.

“Don’t encourage him.”

“Too late.” Easton grins, no doubt ready to fire back another snarky retort, but Whit cuts him off.

“You two can finish whatever this is later. We’ve got meetings.”

A chorus of complaints rises around us, although chairs start scraping back almost immediately. Easton grabs his plate and reaches for the last piece of cornbread at the same time Tuck does. He manages to snag it first and shoves the whole thing into his mouth, pointing at me on his way toward the door. “Don’t disappear again.”

“I make no promises.”

He shakes his head like that answer is exactly what he expected from me before Tuck shoulders past him with a complaint about stolen cornbread. Whit follows them out, after telling me to leave my plate because someone will be back to clean up, as their voices disappear down the hallway.

I stay in my chair long enough to realize I have nowhere I need to be. Coming home was supposed to give me time to figure out what happens next, but helping Dad gave me something easier to do instead. His schedule needed fixing; there were boxes to unpack and errands to run, and every item on the list gave me another perfectly legitimate reason not to deal with the question waiting underneath all of them.

The MCAT is still there whether I think about it or not.