Of the Trees(15)

“Yeah, sure,” Cassie agreed with a nod, letting her own head fall back against the headrest. The ride to Laney’s wasn’t far. Cassie texted her mom on the way there, letting her know she wasn’t coming home. She got a reply before Laney put the car in park, telling her not to forget breakfast tomorrow. Even if she wanted to, Cassie couldn’t have forgotten. Sunday morning breakfast was a thing with her parents, the one time a week they insisted that the entire family sit and eat together.

Cassie got out of the car and followed Laney, jumping up her porch steps. They both stopped just inside the foyer, kicking their shoes off. The lights were already dimmed, and Cassie crept through the living room. She was already up the stairs, heading toward Laney’s room when she heard her friend tell her sleeping parents that she was home.

Laney’s room was hot; the solitary window was closed, and the air was heavy and still. Cassie scooted past the queen-sized bed and yanked the window open. The old wooden frame protested initially, squeaking its resistance, but gave in eventually and slid open faster than Cassie expected. She pitched forward a bit, catching herself against the frame. There was no screen. Laney’s mother had taken them out last week for cleaning. The air was clean and cool though, the summer bugs mostly gone. Cassie gave one quick look to the dark yard, the old wooden swing swaying feebly, Mr. Blake’s tomato plants sagging in their beds, before leaving the window and facing the bed.

Laney’s bed was massive, it dominated her room. She had a laundry bin in the corner, but most of the clothes she threw never made it there. Cassie shoved a pile of half-folded clothes from the end of the bed to the floor, picking out a pair of pajama bottoms first. She was already kicking her jeans off when Laney came in.

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “Help yourself.”

Cassie made a face at her, not pausing in pulling the cotton pants up. Laney shrugged and rummaged around her dresser for pajamas herself. Cassie waited until they were both under covers, and Laney had flicked the light off before she spoke.

“You really freaked me out tonight,” Cassie muttered. Laney groaned, pulling the covers over her head. “I’m serious! Those guys were twice our age.”

She could feel the rumbled laughter coming from Laney. “More than that, I think,” she said, peeking from over the top of her comforter. Her eyes were bright, even in the dim moonlight that filtered through the room. Cassie rose up to one elbow.

“That’s what I mean,” she insisted. “They were way too old for both of us. Jess, too. And you would have taken that drink if I hadn’t—”

“Oh, no!” Laney interrupted, her eyes wide with mock trepidation. “I almost drank from a sealed bottle of brand name beer! It could have been factory labeled poison! What was I thinking?”

Cassie huffed, falling back on the bed while Laney dissolved into giggles. “Very funny.”

“You’re just such a hypocrite,” Laney pressed, rolling to her stomach, her face turned toward Cassie. She swept her hand around her head, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “You just had spiked lemonade the other day. There’s no difference.”

“Yes, there is,” Cassie hissed. “There were no strange men there, just us. And that was from Ryan.”

“Ah, so it comes back to Ryan,” Laney said, eyebrows raised.

“What? No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “That’s not what I—”

“Why do you think he hasn’t asked you out, yet?” Laney mused, grinning at her friend. Cassie grabbed a pillow and smacked Laney in the face. Laney clutched it and used it to muffle her laughter. “You think it’s ’cause you dated Jon?”

“That was five years ago!”

“Best friends rule,” Laney said, shrugging.

“I still say nothing counts in seventh grade,” Cassie argued.

“So Lance is back in play then?”

Cassie groaned, but it quickly changed to laughter remembering the boy she had “dated.” He asked her out via note, and they spoke only twice before she broke it off. Or, to be more accurate, had Laney pass him a note that did it for her. “All yours,” she said.

“So why don’t you just ask him out?” Laney pressed, watching Cassie over the pillow she hugged to her chest.

“Lance?”

“You know who I mean!”

Cassie shrugged, taking her pillow from Laney and burrowing back into it. She knew Laney would be staring at her and was thankful for the dim light. “I don’t want to,” she murmured.

“Don’t want to ask or don’t want to go out with him?”

“Either. Both.”

“Liar,” Laney said. Cassie gritted her teeth. “You notice how he touches you, all the time, right?” When Cassie didn’t answer, Laney continued. “And you’re all over him, too.”

“I am not!”

“Please! The other night, at his place, you were lying across the couch, your feet in his lap.”

“I was tired.”

“He was giving you a foot massage! Who does that?”

“He’s my best friend, Laney,” Cassie bit out, exasperation coloring her tone.

“Oh, thanks a lot!”

“You know what I mean,” she continued, shaking her head. “It’d be weird.”