“Hello,” he said, patting the counter with both hands when I sat down. His eyes glimmered with pure joy as he watched me with a familiar expression. “What can I get you?”
I ignored it, trying my hardest to be unassuming.
“Whiskey sour,” I said, then threw in, “please.”
He looked at me as if I’d just given him the keys to the city, his jaw quivering with pure delight. “You got it…Cait Du Bois.”
I smiled with one side of my mouth.
“It is you, isn’t it?” he asked, pulling a drink from a shelf behind him without looking away from me even for a second.
I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear again, considering lying. “It is,” I confirmed.
His smile grew wider as he set the empty glass on the counter and began pouring my drink, rolling his eyes with excitement. “I knew it. I’m such a fan of yours. Mine to Kill changed my life.”
I chuckled. “Oh, well, thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”
“I’m totally serious. My cat’s named Milo after Milo Thatcher. I read it five years ago, and it’s still my favorite book. I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe I’m meeting you.” He adjusted his gray suspenders, practically trembling with adrenaline, a hint of tears in his eyes. “This is the coolest—” His eyes darted over my shoulder as I felt a hand on my back.
When I looked over, Sam was standing there. “Am I interrupting?”
The bartender slid my drink to me carefully and I took a sip, the warm, sugary goodness filling my stomach. “Not at all.” I glanced at the bartender again, who was still staring at me like you’d watch an exhibit at an aquarium, pure wonderment in his gaze. With Sam by my side, I felt my nerves calm, stepping into the Cait Du Bois facade I’d perfected over the years. My worries and insecurities couldn’t affect her. “This is delicious, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Barry,” he said, his pale cheeks suddenly pink, even in the dim light. He tilted his head from one side to the other, letting me in on what must’ve been a running joke. “Barry the bartender.”
“Well, thank you, Barry. For this.” I tilted the drink toward him. “And for your support.”
“Of course, Cait Du Bois,” he said, his lips pressed together to conceal the bright smile. He looked as if he were going to burst at any moment. “Do you think I could get an…” He searched around, swiping a paper napkin from the stack and passing it to me cautiously. “An autograph? It would mean the world to me.”
I nodded, drying my hand on my skirt before reaching for the pen he held out. “Of course.” I scribbled down my autograph for him, much to his squealed delight.
Once I’d signed it, he took the pen back and stared at the napkin with absolute shock. “My friends are never going to believe I met you. Thank you.” He clutched it to his chest.
When I looked over, Sam was staring at me with admiration. Back to business, Barry took Sam’s drink order—Jack and Coke—and prepared it. I tried to ignore the fact that he was still staring at me with fascination.
When he handed over the drink, Sam asked, “You want to get out of here?”
Ignoring the obvious connotation of the phrase, I nodded.
“Absolutely.”
Sam pulled out his card and slid it across the counter. “Can you take care of both our bills with this?”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said firmly, but he was already waving me away.
He touched a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I haven’t seen you in years. Even if you are rich and famous now, the least you can do is let your best friend buy you a drink.” His expression warmed. “Besides, next round’s on you.”
I pursed my lips as he signed for the drinks and slid the receipt back to Barry, then stood from his chair, waiting for me to do the same. We made our way out of the lounge and I waved at Barry once more, his gaze still fixed on me. Sam threw an arm around me joyfully.
“So is this what life is like for you now? Everyone you meet just fawning over you, Cait Du Bois?” he said my name with the same gusto Barry had used.
I shook my head, running the straw of my drink over my teeth. “Occasionally, maybe, but typically I’m just as invisible as everyone else.”
He grinned slyly, giving me a side-eye. “I doubt that. You were never invisible, Cait.” I looked down, unable to look at him any longer, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Did you ever think we’d be back here? After everything? Back in this place?”
We’d reached the elevator and Sam slid his arm off my shoulder so he could press the button to call it to us. “I’m on the third floor. You?”
“Same, actually. I think Vanessa said the room block had us all pretty close together.”
When the elevator doors opened, we stepped into the empty vessel, waiting for the doors to close again before he spoke. “You never answered my question, by the way.”
“Hm?”
“Did you think we’d be back here? It seems odd to me, don’t you think? Kind of…mean, maybe? Like, shouldn’t we go somewhere else to celebrate rather than the place where…” He trailed off. “You know…”
“I know,” I confirmed. “I hate it here.”
Chapter Two
Age Fifteen
The first day of tenth grade was less than twenty-four hours away. Sam and Jamie were lying on the bottom bunk of my bed, watching me pick through my closet as I tried to decide on the perfect outfit.
“What about this one?” I asked, holding a pinstripe shirt and tiny black vest.
Sam wrinkled his nose and Jamie shook her head. “What about the chunky belt? Let's see that with the red maxi dress again.”
I pulled out the dress, draping my favorite black belt over it. “Oh, this could work.”
“I love it! That’s the one.” Jamie clapped her hands together, leaping up from the bed. “Okay, my turn.” She pulled two options from the bag she’d brought, tags still attached to the outfits, and twirled around. She pointed to the first one. “With this, I thought I could scrunch my hair and feel really springy and fun.” Nodding at the other one, she said, “But with this, I’d probably have my hair straight with a bump and gaucho pants.”
I studied both outfits thoughtfully. “The bump, for sure. I’ll do mine the same.”
She squealed. “Oh my god, I love it!”
“What shoes are you wearing with it?” I asked her, starting to dig through my own closet as I tried to decide.
“Can this be over now?” Sam asked, groaning as he fell back on the bed. He flipped open the Razr phone in his hand, and I could hear the clicking of the keys. “I thought we were going to go to the movies.”
“This is important,” Jamie said, resting her fists on her hips. “Don’t you want to look good tomorrow?”
He propped himself up on one elbow, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s scientifically impossible for me not to look good, so…”
“Oof, bringing science into this lie now, are we?” I joked. “I guess we’re going to have to find someone new to teach us chemistry, Jamie.”