Until We Meet Again(15)
Mom smirks. “I should have guessed.”
I jump to my knees beside her to properly beg. “Okay, so I
met this guy the night of your party—”
“Oh dear,” Mom says, taking off her reading glasses.
“He’s really nice. He’s very polite. We’re going to hang out
for a little while.” I grab her hand and press it to my cheek.
“Pleeeeeeease?”
Mom turns a skeptical look to Frank, but he’s already sold.
“It’s nice to have our happy Cass back.”
“True,” Mom says. “You have been a pill lately.”
I nod. “I know. But I swear I’ll stop. I’ll be better. I’ll be an
absolute delight.”
Mom and Frank laugh—a promising sign—and then Mom
sighs. “Fine. But you’d better be back by curfew, kiddo.”
“Absolutely,” I vow.
Mom rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. I throw another hug
around her. “You’re the best!”
As I gallop up the stairs to my room, I catch them exchanging amused and exasperated whispers. Doubtless, a conversation about the tempestuous nature of teenagers will ensue. And rightfully so. But I don’t mind. Right now, all I care about is
finding a cute outfit, brushing my hair, and getting my butt
out to the street.
Digging through the tangled mess of my closet, I manage
find a cool blue T-shirt and a less shabby pair of shorts. A high
ponytail masks my unwashed hair, and a cute pair of earrings
finishes the look. I purposefully don’t spend too much time
getting ready. I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard.
Even though I kind of am…
As I run back downstairs, I can’t suppress my smile. It’s silly
to be so excited, but my excuse is that I’m not excited about
seeing Lawrence, per se; it’s more that I’m just happy something interesting is happening in general.
I force my pace to a slow, casual stroll as I walk the long
driveway. I pass the gate and look down both directions of the
street. In the twilight, only the lamp posts show any indication
of civilization. Cicadas buzz loudly in the surrounding hedges.
The glint of fireflies flickers in the woods beyond. And then,
somewhere in the distance, like in a horror movie, a dog barks.
But there’s no sign of Lawrence.
My lips purse in a little frown. I took longer than five minutes to get ready, but not that much longer. I peer down the street again. Nothing. My mind starts to tick through possible scenarios. Did he wait and think I wasn’t coming? Did he get detained at home? Maybe his parents are holding him up.
Maybe he’s getting ready himself? I’ll give him five minutes.
Ten minutes pass.
Then fifteen.
Twenty…
A knot sits heavy in the pit of my stomach. I’ve been stood
up. Was this all some kind of sick joke? The thought makes
me queasy. He doesn’t seem like the type. Or does he? Didn’t I
see the warning signs right from the start? But I ignored them
because I was attracted to his brooding, poetry-reciting self.
Which is probably exactly what he’d planned.
Feeling sick, I stare up the street yet again, hoping against
hope that I will see his dark outline appear. My pathetic hope
fills me with a surge of shame. He’s not coming. I must look so
stupid waiting here on an empty street. My face goes hot, and I
dash back to the house. I can’t get inside fast enough.
As I head upstairs, I hear Mom’s voice.
“Cass? You’re back?”
My promises of sweet, cheerful behavior taste like salt on my
tongue. I want to yell at her. I want to act out. I want her to
know I’m in pain. But I swallow the words down.
“We’ve decided to meet another time,” I call, trying my best
to sound normal.
“Oh.” Mom’s voice is unbearably gentle. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just tired. I’m going to go to bed.”
“Okay… Good night.”
I don’t respond. I drag myself up the stairs to my room and
push the door closed.
Chapter 5
Cassandra
feel inexplicably calm when I wake in the morning.
I
Maybe “numb” is a better word for it. Either way, I’m absolutely determined not to waste another ounce of emotion or thought on Lawrence Foster. I glide down to breakfast with my head high. I am calm. I am relaxed. I am unmoved.
As I approach the table, the glance Mom and Frank exchange does not pass my notice. Is that a glint of pity I see on Mom’s face? I sigh and flop down at my seat. Even Eddie seems to be tentative as he munches his sugary cereal. There’s only the sound of hesitant chewing. I roll my eyes.
“Mom,” I say calmly. “I have a request.”
“Sure, dear,” she says overly cheerfully. “What’s up?” “Let’s do something. Something that will take up the whole