“Well, you’re obviously super focused,” I teased, tipping my wineglass toward him, and he chuckled.
“Obviously.”
“What about you? Why’d you come in so early? Needed an escape from Grant?” Something about the way he said my husband’s name made my stomach flip. Sam and Grant had always had a bit of a strained relationship. I knew that was part of the reason we’d grown apart, but it wasn’t as if they were enemies anymore.
They just didn’t have anything in common.
Nothing but me, anyway.
I pursed my lips, shaking my head. “No, of course not. I’m behind on a deadline and this was a good chance to catch up without distraction. He wanted to be here. He was planning to, if it wasn’t for Momma’s surgery.”
“I’m surprised he let you come.”
I jerked my head back, bothered by his words. “He didn’t have to let me. I needed to write, and we both knew if I was home with the kids and he’d come, I wouldn’t be getting anything done, so this was what made sense. We’d already paid for two tickets, so it didn’t make sense for neither of us to come.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I just never expected you to come after everything.”
I shivered, adjusting in my seat. “I didn’t know that I wanted to. I’d be perfectly happy never seeing this place again, truth be told. But it was important to me to show I’m not the little girl who will be run off anymore. That version of Cait is gone.”
He took a sip of his wine. “Well, I’m glad you came, whatever the reason. And honestly, I’m glad you came alone.”
“You are?” Heat rushed to my cheeks.
“Yeah, I mean, how long has it been since we hung out, just the two of us?”
“A lifetime,” I said sadly.
“Exactly. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said softly, gripping my wineglass but not lifting it to my lips. It was true. I’d missed Sam so much. “This week will be fun. Like old times.”
His eyes held mine for a bit longer, and I placed a hand to my neck self-consciously. When he spoke again, the deep timbre of his voice was gruff, the look on his face causing my body to tense, wondering if we were thinking of the same memories. “Just like old times.”
Chapter Six
Age Fifteen
Jamie carried her tray across the cafeteria, hesitating when she passed the table where Grant sat with his friends. I watched the crooked grin he gave her with worry. Their date had gone well Saturday night. But I still didn't trust them. Jamie continued walking toward us, a weird smile on her face.
When she reached our table, she paused, staring at us with a hesitant expression. “Hey, guys? You don’t mind if I eat with Grant today, do you?”
Sam’s eyebrow raised slightly. “What are you talking about? Why would you do that? You eat with us.”
She winced, still not sitting down. “Yeah, I know, it’s just that… Well, Grant told me I should sit with him today and I thought…you know, it’s not a big deal. It’s just lunch, right?”
“S-sure,” I squeaked out, still blown away by the request. She released a suppressed squeal, bending her knees slightly.
“You guys are the best. Okay, I’ll see you after school, right? I’ll give you the four-one-one on what it’s like on Planet Popular.”
“Hey, Jamie?” I called, stopping her in her tracks. She glanced over her shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“Vanessa and Courtney are over there… Are you sure they’ll be okay with it?”
Vanessa and Courtney had done nothing but make our lives miserable since kindergarten. If Jamie tried to sit with them, there was a good chance they’d humiliate her in front of the rest of the school.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, but I could see the worry in her eyes, regardless of what she was saying.
“Okay. We’ll be here if you need anything…”
She gave a stiff nod and her chest rose with a heavy breath, then she set off on her way to greet them. I watched closely, holding my own breath as she approached the table. Every person at the long table looked up, a sea of Populars looking at her, and I felt my muscles tense.
Then, Grant scooted his chair sideways slightly, jutting his head toward the guy next to him—Cameron Fellows—and Cameron picked up his tray, switching to an empty chair at the far end of the table. Grant patted the now empty seat next to him and Jamie sat down. She glanced over at us once, her brows high as if she was in as much disbelief as we were. She turned back to Grant just as he said something to make her laugh.
“Our little girl’s all grown up,” Sam said, feigning tears when I looked back at him. I tossed my dinner roll at him, rolling my eyes.
“Can you ever be serious?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He picked up the bread, taking a bite of it with a bright smile.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“Jamie can take care of herself. You know that.”
I did, but it wasn’t her I was worried about. It was everyone else.
“Don’t you think it’s weird, though? Why is Grant suddenly so interested in her?”
He was quiet for a while, drawing my attention back to him. When I met his eye, his look was accusatory. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
I scowled, slamming my fork down. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t want her to get hurt. This is Grant we’re talking about. And the rest of The Populars. Why would they want to hang out with Jamie?”
He ran a finger across his brow, shaking his head. “I have no idea, and honestly, I don’t care. She’ll be fine. It’ll get old after a while and Grant will go back to dating Vanessa or Sarah or Courtney or whoever, and Jamie will come back to us and all will be right in the world. Just…let her have her fun while she can.”
I shook my head. “Can’t you see they’re obviously plotting something?”
“Like what?” he asked, mouth full, clearly unbothered.
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the table, watching as Vanessa pointed at the bracelet Jamie was wearing, obviously complimenting it. Even from there, I could see the silver glinting from the friendship bracelet we’d bought years ago. My fingers went to the matching one on my wrist instinctively. Even though they were probably childish, we never took them off. They were too special. Without looking my way, I watched Jamie lower her hand to her lap, as if she were embarrassed by the bracelet. And, by default, embarrassed by me. My appetite was gone instantly. I pushed my tray away.
“Do you want your cake?” he asked, pointing to the small cardboard tray of chocolate cake.
“Take it.”
Sam didn’t need telling twice when it came to food; he never had. He scooped it up, blissfully aware of the inner turmoil I was experiencing. It didn’t matter. I’d tried to tell both him and Jamie my concerns and they’d been dismissed.
Why couldn’t anyone but me see what was happening?