Hard To Love (2 page)

After a mile I turned down Mills road, hanging a right a few
blocks before reaching his street, on the left. When I turned down
Skyline Road, he reached over and turned the radio down catching
me off guard.

“
Drop me off here,” he said, taking off his seatbelt.
“I’ll drop you off at your house,” I replied.
“I don’t know you, and I don’t want to find out that you’re

I gasped in disbelief at his remark. I slammed on the brakes,
causing him to bump his head on the roof of the car. I shook my
head, biting my tongue. Out of the corner of my eye I could see
him staring at me.

“You’re welcome.” I put the car in park and unlocked the doors.
He rubbed his head, and then turned to get out, without even
saying thank you.

I turned towards him, my face blazing red, “Get out.”
I
interjected. His lips curved up on the right and I had to look away.
He got out of the car and as he passed in front of me, I put the car
in drive and squealed off. My anger boiled inside as I thought
about Mason and his poor people skills. I couldn’t believe that
Mrs. Porter—Foster could bare such a child.

When I got home, I parked the car in the garage, shut off the
engine and sat in the dark with my eyes closed. Images of my time
with Matt in the forest came back. I wanted badly for it to happen
again. Resting my head back, I breathed, thinking only of him.
Then the light in the garage turned on, bringing me out of my
thoughts. I looked up to find my mother standing in the doorway,
with a worrisome look on her face.

“Lauren?”
she called out, bending slightly to get a better look in
the car.
I opened the door and got out. “Yeah, mom, it’s just me,” I said.
My mother pushed the button on the wall to shut the garage door.
“Why were you sitting in the car?” she asked, taking me in her
arms as I approached her.
“I was just thinking.” I shrugged. “That’s all.”
“About Matt,” She asked rubbing my back then pulled me in for
another hug. I held my breath, unable to speak, and nodded my
head. “It will be all right, dear.” she said, offering a sympathetic
smile. Since the accident, all she kept telling me was how
everything was going to be all right but it wasn’t. It had been a
year and I didn’t feel all right. I felt lost and angry and hurt.
“I know, Mom.” I gave her a thin-lipped smile. I slipped off my
boots by the front door, and then made my way to the stairs.
“Oh, by the way, I spoke to Mrs. Peterson today. She said any
time you’re ready, you’re more than welcome to have your old job
back at the restaurant.” She smiled widely. It was helpful of her,
but I wasn’t in the mood to start a job, not yet.
“Oh.” I sucked in a breath and tried to smile. “Uh—thanks.”
“I would do anything to see you happy again darling.” She said
as she gently caressed my cheek then told me she loved me. Guilt
filled me, everyone was trying so hard to make me feel better and
all I could think about was me. It took a lot for me to move home
again. Falling back into my old life was not something I was
interested in. I didn’t want to move back home, I had left that life
behind. Problem was with Matt gone I couldn’t afford anything on
my part-time salary working at the diner. My freelance
photography pretty much went nowhere. When Matt was alive his
salary was plenty to cover our expenses. We even planned on
getting married and eventually selling the loft for a house in
Beverly Hills. His dreams—not mine but I supported him because
he always supported me. He always told me to strive towards my
dreams. Always supporting me, in everything I did even when it
failed. Being happy at what you do for a living was what he
always used to say to me, and he lived his every day.
His dreams came true; he was an editor for a big production
company in Hollywood. He and his team of editors had been
nominated twice in the three years we were together. He was
proud of his achievements as was I. He meant the world to me and
living without him was too hard. Moving back to Portland was a
big adjustment. I had been gone for almost four years and never
kept in touch with my old friend. I was happy to be home with my
mother. She had been pretty lonely since Dad died five years ago.
“I told her you are stopping by this week,” she said with a nod
before walking away.
“Uh—okay,” I breathed, then turned and walked up the stairs.
I shut my bedroom door and flopped down on my bed, burying
my face in my pillows. I just wanted to lie here and not move ever
again. I had done nothing the past year but wander around as a
different person in my own skin. Life was empty without Matt.
The silent pity party didn’t last long because my cell phone
started ringing. It was a familiar ring tone, which forced me to get
out of bed and grab my phone.
“Hello, Cassie.” I couldn’t help but smile remembering that I
had forgotten to call her when I got to town.
“Hey, girl,” she said. “You were supposed to call when you got
here.”
“I know.” I sighed. “I got a little sidetracked.”
“That’s okay, tomorrow you are all mine, and no complaints on
the arrangements,” she stated.
“Promise,” I said then lied back on the bed. “I can’t wait to see
you.” Cassie had a way of helping me forget my problems. We
hadn’t seen each other since I moved away but my mother always
kept me up to date on Cassie’s adventures.
“Good. I’ll see you around ten,” she said before hanging up. I
glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was still early enough
to make it to the restaurant before Mrs. Peterson closed for the
night. I pulled my hair up in a bun and grabbed my jacket.

When I pulled up to the restaurant, it was half past nine. The
parking lot was practically empty. I took the first spot by the door
and made my way in. An older woman cleaning a table greeted
me. Letting the door swing shut behind me I stepped in.
“Hey there, darlin’. What can I do for you?” she asked.
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Mrs. Peterson. Is she still

around?”
“She sure is. Who should I say is callin’?” she asked.
“It’s Lauren Miller,” I replied. She nodded, and then turned

“Lauren, I heard you were back in town!” Mrs. Peterson
squealed as she came around the corner from the kitchen area.
I stood and walked towards her open arms. “It is fantastic to see
you. You look terrific.” She hugged me tight. Surprisingly, I felt
happier. Mrs. Peterson and my mother had been friends for years.
“I was sorry to hear about Matthew. It’s such a tragedy. He was
such a sweet boy.” She rubbed my cheeks as she screwed her lips
downwards. It was strange how everyone remembered Matt when
he lived in Portland yet I never met him until college.

Matt and I met at a college party. He was three years older than
I was, probably the main reason why I never met him before. I
found myself smiling as I remembered the first time I laid eyes on
him. A few friends and I were invited to this fraternity party, they
had ditched me at some point in the night, and I ended up playing
this crazy drinking game called Shot Gun with a bunch of people.
The game involved a can of beer being shaken and punctured; then
you had to drink the beer down as it sprayed out. When Matt
showed up I had just finished my sixth round against a guy who
barely got down his fifth. I noticed him when he smiled at me
from across the lawn, and that was it. I was hooked. As it turned
out, I was beating one of his friends at the game.

Mrs. Peterson spoke, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Your
mother mentioned you moved back home.”
“Yes, temporarily,” I said, mumbling.
“Well, don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,”
she said. “You’re welcome to work here until you get back on your
feet.” She hugged me again. Mrs. Peterson was a childless, widow
who had plenty of love to give. My mother told me back when I
first started working at the restaurant, not to ask if Mrs. Peterson
had any children because it was a sore subject. Mrs. Peterson had
always wanted children but was barren, according to the doctors.
Her husband never wanted to adopt and didn’t believe in paying
someone to carry their child for them either. He was a God-fearing
man and believed wholeheartedly that if it was meant to be, then it
would be. I can’t say that I believe that theory myself, but to each
his own.
“Thank you, Mrs. Peterson.” I said, politely.
“No problem, dear.” She smiled widely. “So how’s Monday
work for you?”
“Sounds perfect,” I said with a nod. That gave me four days to
get my stuff together and unpack my things. It was time to start
acting as though this was my home again. “Thanks again. See you
Monday. Have a good night.”
“You too, dear. Tell your mother I said hello.”
“I will.” I waved as I walked out the door.

My mother was already in bed by the time I returned home. So
I quietly made my way up to my bedroom. Because I was unable
to sleep, I decided to unpack my things and put them away. I
slipped the headphones from my IPod that I found in the mess that
was my suitcase then crawled into bed. Sleep was hard to come by
lately, and noise seemed to drown out my thoughts. The
nightmares had faded, months ago.

Occasionally flashing back as vivid as the day it happened. I
closed my eyes, resting my hand on my chest. As I drifted to sleep
images of the forest began; first of my time with Matt, then Mason.
Then I heard someone shout my name over the music and I sat up,
pulling the earphones from my ears and looked around the room.
My heart thudded hard against my ribcage, tears effortlessly falling
from my eyes.

Stretching across my bed, I opened the bedside table drawer and
took out a bottle of prescription pills. It had been months since I
had needed them, but today after seeing what I saw and heard; the
sleeping pills were needed. I tilted the bottle enough to let two
peach-coloured pills drop into the palm of my hand, and then
grabbed a bottle of water from my hand bag to wash them down.
As my head hit the pillows, I tried again to close my eyes and calm
my nerves.

The next morning, Cassie woke me up out of a dead sleep. I
had forgotten how well the pills worked. It was just after ten when
I focused on the clock by my bed. I rubbed my face, apologizing.

“I didn’t realize how late it was
.” I croaked.
“I can’t believe you slept in this long.” She flopped down on the
bed next to me. “Whatever happened to the girl who was up at the
crack of dawn no matter how late we were out drinking?” she
teased.
“Age caught up to me,” I joked.
“Nah, that’s not it.” She turned onto her side. “Get dressed.
We’ll go have breakfast at the club, then go shopping.”
“The club?” My brow rose.
“Don’t tell me you have forgotten about the club?” Cassie
turned towards me, laughing.
“No, that I have not forgotten.” I sighed. “And shopping for
what?”
“We need dresses for the masquerade my parents are throwing
for Halloween.” She clapped her hands excitedly as she sat up.
“Remember those back in high school?”
“Yes.” I said, trying to smile.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “It just seems as if nothing has changed
here, except me.”
“That’s what L.A. does to you, sweetheart.” She smirked.
“I don’t have money to spend on a dress,” I said, dragging
myself out of the bed.
“Don’t worry about it.” She hopped off the bed.
“Cassie—”
“Ah, don’t you dare say it. We are shopping and you’re going
to stick your pride where the sun doesn’t shine, because you are
my best friend and I have not seen you in forever.” She scooped
me up in her arms, spinning me around to face the mirror on my
wall, her cheek against mine. “We are going to show these old
folks what it means to party, and you are going to enjoy it!” She
walked me to the bathroom. “Hurry up.” Locking the door behind
me, I turned and stared at myself in the mirror. The puffiness under
my eyes was proof of my tear-filled night.
After fighting with the tangles in my hair, I gave up and tied it
in a ponytail. I scrubbed my face with cleanser, patting it dry, then
swiped a toner over my face and added a bit of cream, lightly
dabbing under my eyes, wishing the bags away. “Nothing a little
foundation couldn’t hide,” I muttered.
When I got back to my room, Cassie had already raided my
closet and picked out clothes for me. My eyes fell on the bed
where she laid out my clothes: a pair of dark skinny jeans, creamcoloured circular hem sweater, black-and-beige flats. “So glad you
have such classy taste.” Cassie giggled, sitting cross-legged on the
bed.
“Thanks.” I shrugged, then changed into the outfit and checked
myself out in the mirror. It was a cute ensemble. I had never worn
these particular pieces together, but Cassie had a pristine eye for
fashion. As we exited my room, I grabbed my bag off the dresser.
“Morning, girls,” my mother said, stopping us as we got to the
main floor. “I have coffee and scones on if you’d like.”
“Thanks, Mom, but we are going to the club for breakfast.”
“Okay. Have a good day.” She smiled, hugging her arms close.
Before I left, I turned back and walked towards my mother,
kissing her cheek before leaving. That put a smile on her face.
Back when I lived at home, Mom was the town’s social
butterfly. I remember her being friends with everyone. She went
to their house parties and costume balls. I used to love watching
her get ready on those big nights out. However, since Dad died,
she had kept to herself. She didn’t want the members at the club
treating her differently because she was a widow. My mother is a
proud woman and never asked for pity or handouts.
Not that she needed it. Mom and Dad had done well, not quite
in the same category as, say, the Harpers or the Porters, maybe a
class just below them. Dad was an engineer and Mom was a nurse.
“Are you sure I’m not underdressed for this?” I asked shyly.
“I picked your outfit, Lauren. Trust me. You are going to be
fine.” She giggled, taking my arm in hers. “Everyone is going to
die when you walk in,” Cassie said, turning off the alarm on her
car.
“I doubt that,” I scoffed.
“Are you kidding me? You were all everyone talked about since
the last time you came to visit,” she said, crossing her arms. “Just
because you don’t live on Skyline Road doesn’t mean you are not
noticed.” She said and rolled her eyes at me. “You should meet
my cousin Mason. You’ll love him—all the girls do. He should be
there this morning.”
“Uh, Cassie—”
“Shush and get in.” She shut her door and started the car.
Hesitantly I climbed in the front seat. It had been a year since
Matt died, but I didn’t feel ready to start seeing anyone else. The
idea of falling in love all over again was not appealing, especially
with men such as Mason Foster to choose from. A rich kid who
probably didn’t know what it felt like to lose anything.

We pulled up to the front of the country club twenty minutes
later. A valet walked around the front of the car, nodding at Cassie
as she got out. He handed Cassie a tag as he got in her car. Cassie
linked her arm with mine, and together making our way in through
the front doors. It was just as I remembered; glossy dark maple
wood floors, beige walls with crown moulding. On the floor were
several round tables with dark green fabric cushioned chairs, and a
bar in the corner of the room. As we walked in, incoherent chatter
filled the room—until I entered. It fell silent and it appeared as if
everyone was staring at me. I looked down at the ground
nervously. Cassie ignored everyone as she walked through the
dining room with her head up and her arm wrapped around me
tightly. We stopped at a table where her mother and father were
seated.

“Cassie.” Her mother
looked up at her. Cassie let go of my arm
and walked around to hug and kiss her mother, then her father.
“Mom, Dad, you remember Lauren Miller.” She introduced me,
and it felt just as uncomfortable as it did the first time I had met
them fifteen years ago.
“Yes, of course. How are you, dear?” her mother asked, leaning
over to shake my hand.
“Very well. Thank you for asking,” I said, giving her hand a
gentle shake.
“How was L.A., Lauren?” Cassie’s father asked, making light
conversation.
“An experience,” I said with a smile. There were three others
sitting at the table. I recognized the woman but couldn’t place who
she was.
“This is Abigail Foster”—Mrs. Harper said, introducing us as
Abigail smiled and nodded—“her husband, Spencer, and that is her
son Mason.” I smiled, nodding at who was paying attention to me.
“Nice to meet you,” I said giving a polite smile and a wave
instead of reaching across the table.
“Mason!” Abigail tapped him on the shoulder. “My son the
social butterfly,” she scowled and rolled her eyes at him as he
slowly turned to face her. “If only he was as good at finding a job
as he is at being social.” He had been leaning over the back of his
chair, speaking with a girl at the other table who now glared at me.
“What?” He hiss at her and turned to face me. That’s when I
gasped and practically jumped out of my skin. I never imagined the
Mason Cassie was talking about would be the same one I met
yesterday.
She clucked her tongue at him. “We have company.”
“We always have company. It’s nothing new.” He scowled,
wagging his brow and smirking at me.
“Manners, Mason.” She tapped his leg.
He rolled his eyes.
“Hey.” He said.
“Uh—hi,” I stuttered. Everyone looked at me oddly except for
Mason, who turned away again.
“Have you met before?” Cassie asked, looking over at me, then
at the back of Mason’s head. Mason immediately spun around and
stared for a moment.
“Sort of.” I said, biting my bottom lip and taking my seat.
“Do tell.” Cassie leaned closer to me.
Mason’s eyes lit up, a grin stretched across his perfect lips and
he snapped his fingers remembering. “Oh, right. The—girl who
talks to herself,” he chuckled. My mouth dropped. That was how
he remembered me.
I crossed my arms and scowled at him. “I was not talking to
myself.”
“Well, you were talking to someone and I certainly didn’t see
anyone else around,” he joked.
“I’m surprised you remembered anything considering the
amount of alcohol in your system,” I snapped.
Mason’s head jerked back and he gave me a crooked smile, then
he leaned back in his chair, his eyes focused on mine. I could feel
my adrenaline pumping the angrier I became.
“Lauren!” Cassie cupped her hand over her mouth, trying to
hide her smile.
“Then I guess your recollection of the day’s events would have
more detail than mine.” The grin on his face widened. He was a
real piece of work. “If I recall, you even tried to kiss me.”
“That’s absurd,” I retorted. The sting on my cheeks flared red.
“You don’t have to hide it. All the girls love me,” he chided.
“Mason,” His mother scolded.
“Will you excuse me? I suddenly don’t feel hungry.” I threw
the napkin from my lap onto the plate. “It was a pleasure meeting
you all.”
“Lauren,” Cassie grabbed her hand. “That was rude, Mason.”
Cassie said.
“What is wrong with you, Mason?” his mother scolded. I stared
Mason down but he didn’t say anything else. His jaw clenched,
and he sat there silent for a moment before turning around and
continuing his conversation with the girl at the other table. I then
turned and walked away.
“My son has been rather unruly lately,” Abigail apologized as
she took a sip of her tea.
“Lauren,” Cassie called out as she followed closer. “What was
that about?” She grabbed my arm.
“Nothing.” I pulled free. Life had never changed here, I didn’t
fit in back in high school, and I certainly don’t fit in now.
“That was not nothing? Did you really try to kiss him?”
“NO!” I blurted. “He was drunk, Cassie. Drunk to the point that
he barely was able to walk,” I replied. “I offered him a ride home,
without knowing who he was, even though he had been such a jerk
beforehand. I can’t believe he is your cousin,” I said, shaking my
head.
“Yeah, well, you can’t pick your family.” She chuckled.
“Well, you can’t tell you’re related. At least you have that going
for you.” I laughed.
“What gives it away? The colour of my skin?” She laughed.
“He is rather pale in comparison.” Her smile was picture perfect.
Cassie had always been the beautiful girl in their group of friends.
With her dark skin and green eyes, not to mention her chocolaty
long locks, turned heads everywhere she went. I, on the other
hand, couldn’t tan to save my life. My skin was fair, and I had a
light dash of freckles across the bridge of my nose. My grey eyes
were boring unless I dressed them up with make-up and, well—I
did like my lips and my perfectly set teeth. My hair was a little
longer than Cassie’s and more of a golden brown than a dark
chocolate.
Cassie’s mother was born in South Africa, with strict parents
and upbringing. Her family had moved to America when she was
just a girl. When Mrs. Harper became a woman and had children,
she, too, instilled these rules for her children.
“I prefer Calvin over Robert,” Cassie stated. “He’s a little less
conservative.”
“Robert, I remember him. My dad used to golf with him, I
think,” I recalled.
“Yeah, I’m surprised you never met Mason or Nick before
now,” Cassie said.
“I honestly didn’t know that Mrs. Foster had any children. I
don’t remember anyone ever talking about Mason or his brother,” I
replied.
“Well, that is a long story. It was Robert Porter that she was
married to, Nick’s father. Now it’s Calvin Foster, who is Mason’s
father.” Cassie explained.
“Oh.” I still couldn’t place him. I guess everyone has a secret
they don’t like to share.
“Mason has always been a troublemaker.” Cassie replied.
The valet returned with her car. “His brother, on the other hand,
complete opposite.”
“Most siblings are different?” I said.
“Where do you want to eat?” She asked as we got in her car.
I was glad she changed the subject.
“Parkrose waterfront, the place I work at.” I shrugged.
“You got your old job back?”
“Well, I think my mom talked her into it.” I shrugged.
“Mrs. Peterson loves you. You are practically family to her.”
Cassie smiled, and then started driving. I nodded. She was right, I
guess.

Cassie pulled up to the restaurant and we got out. We were
greeted by the host right away. She seated us by the front window.
“Your waitress is Cora, and she’ll be right with you,” the
hostess said with a smile, handing us our menus before walking
away.
“What’s the plan for the weekend?” I asked, reading over the
menu. “You have me for the next four days because I don’t start
work until Monday,” I said, looking over the top of the menu.
“Four days, huh? I’m sure there’s plenty of trouble we can get
into by Monday.” She laughed. I nodded with a smile. Distraction
was exactly what I needed right now.
“Sorry about earlier, by the way.” Cassie said, breaking the
silence that fell upon us.
“Don’t apologize for him. I don’t hold you responsible for his
actions,” I replied reaching across the table to touch her hand.
“I know. It just bothers me that he is that callous about
everything.” She sighed.
“Well, we have no control of others’ actions,” I said, then put
my menu down, ready to order. “Besides, it’s not the first time I
have had to deal with a jerk similar to Mason.”
“I bet.” She smirked.

After breakfast we drove to the boutique where Cassie normally
shopped for her gowns. The masquerade was the next dance for the
elites, a charity event for the local children’s hospital. Every year
at Halloween the Harper family organized and planned the charity
ball. When I was a kid, my parents used to attend the masquerade.
My family donated every year. I knew my mom wouldn’t attend
the masquerade this year. Before moving to L.A., I had the
opportunity of attending a few times.

“So any ideas on what you
want to wear?” Cassie asked.
“No.” I shrugged. It had been three years since I attended such
an event. Matt and I had attended several black-tie events but
nothing as extravagant as the Harpers’ masquerade ball.
“Well my family is wearing blue. Therefore, blue is out of the
questions. How about red?” She spun around with a beautiful
strapless floor-length satin dress. “Red is perfect for you.” Cassie
grinned widely. The dress was incredibly gorgeous.
“Red . . . But then I’ll stand out,” I said.
“That’s the point.” Cassie chuckled. I screwed my lips and
stared a little longer at the dress. The bustier top had a silver
filigree embroidered design over a dark-red satin. The skirt
billowed out slightly, a wave of ruffles pinned by a single white
jewel buttoned to every layer.
“This is gorgeous, Cassie,” I gasped holding it in my hands,
quickly peeking at the price tag. “It’s too much.” I handed it back.
“Shush up. If you want it, it’s yours.” She handed the dress to
the saleswoman helping us. “We need some accessories to match,”
she said. The saleswoman nodded and gestured for us to follow.
Cassie picked out a pair of red-and-white jeweled dangle earrings,
a short layered beaded necklace, black-and-red bangles and a
wraparound beaded bracelet to match the necklace and a little
black diamond-studded clutch purse.
“For the shoes and mask we’ll have to go to a different store.”
Cassie placed everything on the counter.
“What about you?”
“Oh, I have had my dress for over a month.” She smirked.
I nudged her with my shoulder, smiling, feeling the sting on my
cheeks. I hated feeling out of place in her world. It wasn’t as
though my parents weren’t as rich as all of them. Our wealth
arrived later in life. When I left for L.A., I didn’t want my parents
to continue to support me. I wanted to prove that I was capable of
doing it on my own. However, without Matt I probably would
have moved home after six months of living on my own. My
breath hitched in my chest. Just the thought of him brought tears to
my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Cassie said as she turned and noticed my
watery eyes.
“Nothing.” I smiled and wiped the tear that managed to escape.
“You sure? Shopping isn’t therapy for everyone.” She touched
my arm affectionately. “However, drinking is.” She smirked.
“I’m fine.” I laughed.
The saleswoman eyed us.
“Good.” She hugged me then spun me around. “Now go try it
on. It’s easier to pick out shoes and a mask when you have the
dress with you.” I sucked in a deep breath, nodded and took the
dress with me in the change room. “I just know you are going to
look amazing.” When I came out, both the saleswoman and Cassie
gasped. “Yes.” She nodded. “This is your dress.” The saleswoman
nodded.
“Are you sure?” I scrunched my face.
“Absolutely.” Cassie grabbed the dress and handed it over to the
saleswoman. “As always, you are the belle of the ball.” She
hugged me excitedly. The saleswoman took the dress, slipping it
into a thick plastic cover to protect it.
“I don’t recall ever being the belle of the ball,” I stated.
“That’s because you’re modest. You always had a dance
partner. You always had a date. You never attended a party alone.”
“That doesn’t mean I was the belle of the ball, Cassie.” I sighed
heavily.
“Do you have amnesia, girl? Because I remember it vividly like
it was yesterday,” she said with a roll of her eyes. I scoffed and
shrugged it off. I never thought of myself as someone beautiful. I
was average, if that. Brown hair, long and curly; grey eyes—
boring. And I was thin, and it didn’t matter what I ate—I never
gained an ounce, and it showed. However, I was busty, and maybe
that’s what the boys liked back then. I shook my head at the
thought. The saleswoman handed me the bag of accessories after
she filled it. Cassie carried the dress for me.
When we got back to her car, Cassie hung the dress in the back
seat. She suggested we go for coffee before shopping for the shoes
and mask to go with my dress. We drove up the block to the
nearest coffee shop.
“You want to talk about it?” she asked, taking a seat by a large
window.
I scoffed, “I said I was fine.”
“No, you’re not. Stop lying to me,” Cassie replied. “I’m your
best friend, remember? I know when your smiles are real.” She
reached out to cup my hand.
“I just miss him, that’s all.” I sighed.
“I understand, but I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to be
miserable all this time.” She sipped her coffee.
“He doesn’t.” I said. “He wants me to move on. I think the first
step was moving back here.” I fiddled around with the paper cup in
my hand, avoiding looking at her.
“Good because we are dancing with a ton of guys at the club
tonight.” The grin on her face widened. “Well, you will.” Cassie
winked.