Reunited(7)

Twenty years earlier

“Thank you.”

Had her ears deceived her? Or had Brett Falcone just thanked her?

“You’re welcome.” She forced the words out. “Same time next week?”

“Tomorrow, actually.”

“Brett, I don’t have time to tutor you tomorrow. It’s Friday. I have…an engagement.”

“An engagement?” He laughed. “You sound so businesslike.”

“It is business for me. I have a job, you know. You think it’s cheap to go to Stanford?”

“I thought you had a scholarship.”

“I do. For tuition. Not for room and board. Or books. Or incidentals. So I need to make money.”

“Where do you work?”

“I work for my neighbor. I babysit her two-year-old on Fridays and Saturdays. She works the late shift.”

“Fridays and Saturdays? You’re kidding, right? Those are the nights to party.”

“Well, this may have escaped your notice, Brett, but I’m not much of a partier. We nerds never are.”

He smiled. Then he reached forward and touched her cheek. A tremor raced through her.

“Who said you were a nerd?”

“You did. In sixth grade. And seventh. Remember?”

“Hey. You just accepted my apology for that.”

“Right. I can forgive, Brett. I’m just not too quick to forget.”

“Wow, I had no idea I hurt you so bad. I really am sorry, Kath. Truly.”

He absently rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her? No boy had ever touched her before.

“You’re eighteen, right?” he said.

“Yeah. Last month.”

“Me, too.” He smiled. “I guess we’re twins.”

She rolled her eyes. “Something like that.”

“You want to get a soda or something? To thank you for your help today, you know.”

“No, thank you. I have homework to get to.”

He was still touching her face. “Come on. A soda’ll take fifteen minutes. We don’t even have to leave campus. I’ll get them out of the machine.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Why do want to get me a soda so badly?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just not quite ready to go home yet.”

“Go find one of your jock friends to hang out with. I’m sure they’re in the gym doing whatever you guys do.”

“What do you think we do in the gym?”

“I don’t know. Swat each other with wet towels in the locker room?”

“Hmm. I thought better of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re stereotyping me. I never did that to you.”

“You called me a nerd.”

“Correction. You called you a nerd. I believe my words were ‘who said you were a nerd?’”

She cocked her head. Damn if he wasn’t right. Did he really not consider her a nerd?

“Look, I never thought you were a nerd, Kath. And I never thought you were ugly all those years ago. I know I said some mean things. Like I said, I was a stupid punk. I’ve learned a lot since then. Learned a lot from you, actually.”

She huffed. “You haven’t given me a glance since then.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve noticed you a lot. Especially this year. You’ve grown up, Kath. You’ve grown into a very beautiful woman.”

An anvil dropped to her gut. He was playing her. She knew it. But why?

“Does Michelle know you go around telling other girls they’re beautiful?”

“Michelle doesn’t care what I do. She has no say in what I do.”

“She’s been your girlfriend forever.”

“Since tenth grade. Not forever.”

“You’re getting married.”

“Who said that?”

“She did. You forget—I’m on the yearbook and newspaper staff. I know what all the seniors wrote for their plans for the future. She wrote, ‘marry Brett and have kids.’”

Kathryn shook her head. Such a lofty goal…what could one expect from the head cheerleader who had cotton candy for brains? Michelle Bates was another one of the beautiful people who never lowered herself to talk to Kathryn. Not that it mattered much. Michelle was hardly what she wanted in a friend.

Neither was Brett Falcone.

“We might get married,” Brett said. “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t hand in a goal sheet for the yearbook,” Kathryn said. Why she remembered that, who knew?

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Not yet.”

“It’s almost March. We go to print in a few weeks. You better get it in.”

“Yeah. I suppose so. Look, about that soda—”

“I can’t. But thanks.”

“Okay. Next time maybe.”

Right. “Maybe. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you here Monday after school.”

“Sure you can’t do it tomorrow?”

“Positive.”