Finally, hours later, after what feels like an eternity, the last man leaves Cass’s house.
“You’re different,” I tell her while I help her clean up her friends’ trash.
“Really? How so?” she asks when she looks over at me with a grin, an empty beer can in each of her hands.
“You’re more outgoing. In high school, you wouldn’t talk to guys, but today you were surrounded by them and didn’t seem awkward at all.”
“I had to get over my insecurities with the opposite sex after you left. And running the store sort of forced me to learn to talk to men.”
“You don’t just talk to them, you enthrall them,” I tell her with a shake of my head and a chuckle.
Dumping the cans in the garbage, she turns to me and asks, “What does that mean?”
“Oh, Bambi, don’t even pretend like you don’t notice those guys checking you out and hanging on your every word,” I reply. “It’s a rush, right?”
“The positive attention is…flattering I guess,” Cass says with a shrug of her shoulders. “You would know, right? Mr. Homecoming King, Captain of the Wrestling Team, Prom King, Class President. Did I miss any of your many, many important titles?”
“Captain of the Debate Team and State Mathlete Champion.”
“Oh, right,” Cass says. “How could I forget? You were king of the jocks and the nerds.”
“What can I say? God blessed me with brains and brawn.”
“And apparently skimped on the humility,” she teases with a grin and roll of her grassy-green eyes when she flops down on the sofa.
“Still,” I say when I toss the trash I collected away and go sit down beside her. “Even with all my many, many titles, I was envious of you.”
“Liar!” she accuses before reaching for a blue throw pillow and hitting me in the chest with it.
“I was. Hell, I still am!” I declare. “You knew what you wanted to do with your life and never hesitated to just go for it. You’ve got balls, Bambi. I’m jealous of your big, brass balls.”
“Oh, whatever, Xavier,” she replies with a huff. “You went to college on a full academic scholarship and finished first in your law school class. That’s pretty damn impressive. You’ve hands down kicked everyone in our graduating class’s ass. They’re going to be so jealous of your success this weekend.”
“Maybe so,” I agree. “But why do I feel like I’ve wasted the last ten years of my life?”
Cass’s jaw drops after that statement. When she recovers, she softly asks, “Do you really feel that way?”
“In college, I thought I would be happy after I graduated. In law school, I thought I would be happy when I started practicing. Well, I’ve been practicing for a year, and I’m not there yet. I keep telling myself that, after I make partner, then I’ll be all set; but I’m starting to think that may not be true.”
“Jesus, Xavier. I had no idea you were so miserable.”
“I’m not exactly miserable,” I reply. “It’s just…my life is the equivalent of being forced to constantly wear a suit that’s too small for me. It’s uncomfortable, and sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.”
When Cass doesn’t respond to that, I ask, “Everyone probably goes through the same thing, right? Who doesn’t carry around a few regrets? Do you ever wish you would’ve gone to college?”
“No,” she answers without having to think about it. “I don’t have any regrets about my path, because I’m certain that there’s nothing out there that would make me happier than spending the day surrounded by all the things I love to do.” The way Cass lights up just talking about her job is a thing of beauty. “I get that working in retail isn’t glamorous or demanding,” she goes on to add. “For most people, selling sporting goods is just a temporary pitstop to pay the bills on their way to getting the job of their dreams. But being able to share my enthusiasm for camping and hiking and biking and fishing… it makes my day.”
“That!” I tell her. “That’s exactly what I want.”
“Great, then what do you think you want to do?” she asks.
“I have no fucking idea,” I admit. “I’m lost in the woods, Bambi. I don’t know how I got here and have no clue how I’m supposed to get back home.”
“You need a compass,” she says.
“And you know I could never read a trail map or use a damn compass. If not for you, I would have probably died out in the wilderness while wandering around in a constant circle.”
“Then it’s a good thing you have me now,” she says, reaching over to give my knee a squeeze through my pants. “Close your eyes.”
“What?” I ask having missed what she said because every cell in my body was screaming, “Higher! Move her hand higher!” because the only time I can get out of my own depressed head for a few minutes is when I’m inside a woman. After Camilla and I split, I started going out and screwing every beautiful woman who looked my way. My ego needed to hear their moans when they came, proving that I’m not just generous in the sack but I’m a fucking amazing lover! Just not amazing enough to keep the woman I married…
As if I wasn’t already depressed going to my boring job I dreaded each day, Camilla had to pile on a heap of insecurities.
The reminder of her is thankfully enough to make my cock behave, which is the only time it’s come in handy. Cassidy has been my friend for twenty years. I can’t use her just to stop all the self-doubts constantly swirling around in my head when she’s the one person who I’ve always been able to count on to be there for me. She’s the keeper of my secrets and partner in crime. My no questions asked ride or die.
“Just relax and close your eyes,” Cass repeats when she removes her hand from my knee.
“Okay,” I agree with a sigh, giving in and shutting my eyes tight.
“Now,” she starts. “Imagine you only have one month to live.” When I crack one eye open at her in question, she slaps her palm over my eyes and says, “You only have one month to live, Xavier Malone. You have a terminal case of chronic arrogantitis –”
“Chronic arrogantitis?” I repeat with a chuckle.
“Yes. It’s going to kill you very, very soon, so you have to spend your last days wisely because they’re all you’re going to get in this lifetime.”
“That sucks,” I mutter.
“It does,” Cass agrees. “This is the chance for you to make amends, to try and change any regrets, to do whatever the hell you want, when you want it.”
“Sounds good to me,” I agree.
“Damn right. You have an endless amount of money from the arrogantitis make a wish fund, so the sky is the limit.”
“Kind of fucked up to give me an endless amount of money when there are sick kids in the world,” I point out.
“Fine,” Cass says with a huff. “You have a Benjamin Button form of arrogantitis that makes you eighteen again! Jesus. This disease makes you very difficult, more so than usual.”
“Sorry,” I tell her with a grin.