Chapter 21

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Sunday - January 7, 2018 - 11:03 a.m.

I had many regrets in life.

I regretted every day I forget to feed the now deceased Crowntail Betta I received for my fifth birthday. I regretted not ditching school the day Chiefs' quarterback Axel Smith was signing autographs at the Macy's in Kansas City. I regretted not spending the night at Mercy hospital the day my dad lost his battle to Leukemia.

But, perhaps the biggest regret of my life, was leaving my chemistry book at home on Friday.

Had I not left my chemistry book under a heap of dirty laundry, I wouldn't have had to sneak into Cassie's locker just before sixth period to borrow hers. I also wouldn't have had to stumble across the red, ribboned jewelry box lodged away in the corner.

The knot in my stomach clenched excruciatingly tighter with each step I took down Cedar lane, until the bright blue facade of Cassie's house finally came into view amidst the whirlwind of snow.

I slowly pulled the tiny red box from my coat pocket, glancing once more at the white gold, sapphire necklace that lay inside. It was one of the most lavish pieces of jewelry I'd ever laid eyes on, more extravagant and eye-catching than anything you'd see on a Jared commercial. It had to be at least fourteen carats.

Somehow its opulence only amplified my wariness. Even with a part time job, there was no way in hell Cassie could've afforded something of this caliber on her own.

I held the key-shaped pendant between my fingers, watching as it shimmered in the bright daylight.

What did it unlock? I wondered. I had a feeling I didn't want to know the answer to that question.

Yet it wasn't the necklace that made my stomach churn with fear as much as the bright pink Post-It I'd found attached to the bottom of the box. I pulled that from my pocket as well, holding back the fiery tears as I read it for the millionth time.

A girl like you deserves much more than cake today.

Thanks again for last weekend—here's to many more.

Happy Birthday.

-Z

I wasn't one to jump to conclusions. I considered myself a level-headed individual, and keeping an open mind in a time of conflict was something I'd always prided myself on. But in this moment, I found that impartial trait of mine slowly fading away.

My mind was riddled with excruciating doubt that hadn't afforded me a wink of sleep since I'd made my discovery. At first I thought it might've just been from some wise ass at school who thought that swooning her with a necklace and a sappy note would land him a shot with her.

Yet the more I mulled it over, the more skeptical I grew of this theory. There was a familiar, almost sensual undertone to this note I couldn't bring myself to rationalize. This couldn't have been a gift from Olivia or Hazel, that much I was certain. Whoever this was, Cassie knew them well, possibly even had history with them. How much was the question that burned in my brain.

The fact that signer had only left his initial further heightened my suspicion, as if he'd intended to cover his tracks on the off chance his gift fell into the wrong hands.

Well played, I thought.

The lump in my throat swelled to an unmanageable size as I walked up the front steps—the same steps we'd stood on for the first-day-of-freshman-year photo shoot; the same steps we'd sat on for hours and downed Mike's Hard Lemonade while her parents were away on business; the same steps where I'd planned to arrive on prom night to pick her up.

As I knocked on the front door, it occurred to me that Cassie was still grounded. Even so, I was determined to get her out of the house long enough for me to talk to her—long enough to figure this all out.

To my surprise, her face appeared in the cracked doorway a few seconds later.

"Hey."

"Hey," she said, her hair still wet from her shower. I could tell she hadn't been expecting a visitor.

"You still under house arrest?" I verified.

She nodded glumly. "Until tomorrow."

"You wanna go for a walk?"

A hesitant look crossed her face, followed by an indifferent nod. "What the hell. My parents shouldn't be back from the grocery for another hour."

She returned a couple minutes later in an oversized Kansas City Mavericks hoodie, one I'd loaned her a couple of years back on the camping trip we'd taken for our one-year anniversary. It had been my favorite hoodie for a while, yet I could never bring myself to ask for it back. Seeing her it in now made me sick to my stomach.

My body trembled with unease as we walked in deafening silence from block to block. I'd been contemplating all weekend how best to execute this confrontation. As badly as I wanted to look the other way, I knew this wasn't something I could brush off, like a passing glance at another guy or an innocent wave to an ex. Cassie and I had always prided ourselves on direct communication, refusing to let our issues fester into something detrimental. My only hope at salvaging this seemingly irreparable situation was to get her side of the story—and pray it wasn't what I feared.

"How's your break been?" I asked finally.

She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the snow below us. "Fine. Nothing special."

"I'm kinda bummed we had to cancel the Colorado trip."

"Yeah," she agreed. "It's for the best, though. It wouldn't have been the same without Hazel."

I continued with the smalltalk, still searching for a way to ease her into an admission. "Still no word from Mizzou?"

She shook her head glumly. "Not unless I put the wrong address on my application."

"I'd give it another week. I'm sure it's on the way."

"You told me that exact same thing two months ago," she reminded me.

"It will," I insisted. "You have to trust me."

"And what if it doesn't? What happens then? Brandon, every senior I know has gotten their acceptance letter by now. Maybe I just didn't get in. We can't keep ruling out that possibility."

There was a distinct dullness in her voice, as if she'd already accepted the bitter prospect.

"Are you happy?" I asked suddenly.

Despite my best efforts to maintain a neutral tone, I couldn't manage to stifle the interrogative edge in my voice.

She stopped suddenly in her tracks. I could feel her eyes dart to mine, though I kept my gaze fixed on my feet.

"What do you mean?" she asked. It was almost too easy to detect the paranoid tone in her voice.

I took a sharp inhale, letting out a thick cloud of breath before continuing. "I mean...with us. Are you happy with us?"

I glanced up, and her alarmed eyes pierced me with the truth.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

I gave a hollow nod, waiting for the opportune moment to brandish the evidence.

"It's just...you've seemed distant lately, not yourself. Sometimes it feels like you're a million miles away when you're right down the street—when you're right in front me."

She scooped my freezing hands into her own. The familiar touch of her skin made my intestines writhe in pain.

"Brandon...I'm sorry. My parents have been keeping tabs on me like crazy lately. It's become a special ops mission just to leave house. Just because we can't be together all the time doesn't mean I don't want to."

She cast me a warm smile—a last ditch attempt at suppressing my suspicion. I was curious to see how much longer she would keep this act going.

"Yeah," I sighed. "You know, if you're not happy, you can tell me."

"Brandon, I told you I am."

At this point, I'd given up all hope on an admission. The girl with whom I'd once been as inseparable as ever, selling me a crock of shit right to my face. Was she was really going to make me do this?

I let out an exhausted sigh. I didn't have anything more to say, and I was through clinging onto the thin possibility that this was all a harmless coincidence.

I slowly extended the necklace from my jacket pocket, gently placing it in her palm.

The flash of panic in her eyes confirmed each and every last one of my fears.

"Brandon..." she whispered. I could see the determination in her eyes as she fought back her tears of guilt. "Please. Let me explain."

"Don't bother," I muttered curtly. "I don't need to know who he is, or how long this has been going on. In fact, nobody needs to know." A shame surged through me as I found myself choking on my words. "The only thing I want...is for you to be happy. And if you're happy with him, that's all that matters."

I made my way up the street without another look back. I could heard her faint sobs echoing in the brittle wind. A gullible part of me kept waiting for her to run after me, beg me to give her another chance. I couldn't say I was surprised when she didn't. Everything I'd feared was true—I didn't need any further confirmation. Her silence said much more than words ever could.

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