KASEY

The music playing in the background of the diner makes me want to shoot myself. It isn’t a horrible song, but it constantly plays on the radio. Everywhere I go, I hear it. It doesn’t help that I woke up with the kind of headache that should only be this horrible after a whole night of drinking. The way my temples pound makes everything around me echo, and the diner is the busiest it’s been in days.

“Hey, Kasey, mind filling table three’s coffee?” Rosie asks as she passes me with a tray of dirty dishes. I duck under her raised arm, grabbing the coffee pot and heading toward the directed table.

I smile when I see Bill, one of our most frequent regulars, sitting in the booth. As usual, he has the morning paper laying across the table, and his coffee cup in his hand. He greets me with bright, grey eyes that make his skin wrinkle at the corners. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he rasps, standing up and giving me a peck on the cheek.

Just the sight of him makes my day brighter, and the pain in my head ease. As I pour his coffee, my eyes drift toward the article on the front page. My jaw drops when I see my picture plastered in the center of the page.

I overfill his cup, spilling some of it on the table, which soaks the off-white paper. I hastily wipe up the hot liquid with a rag I keep in my back pocket before it burns Bill.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologize quickly, looking back at my picture.

It’s me flipping off the paparazzi in front of my building yesterday. The ugly expression on my face makes me want to run across town and collect every paper I can find before people see it. 

I swipe my hand down my face in embarrassment.

“I think they got you at the wrong angle,” he muses, making me laugh through my mortification. 

“I didn’t realize they were taking my picture.”

I try skimming the article, and see Ian’s name among the words that are destroyed by the coffee stains. I read up on his band, Relentless, which is apparently pretty popular. He’s the lead singer, which is the whole reason everybody wants a picture of him. If I kept up on the news, maybe I would have known that he was coming back to West Haven. It would have saved me from looking like a total ass, that’s for sure.

Bill pats my hand. “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart. The paper isn’t that popular anyway. I’m sure nobody will notice.”

Rosie passes us, setting down drinks at table four. 

She says, “I wouldn’t count on that. That boy is famous around this town. Anything with his name in it will easily go viral, which is what the paper needs to keep running.”

I groan. “I look horrible.”

She chuckles and glances at the picture. “I’ll admit, you’ve seen better days.”

No doubt about that. 

I take my bottom lip between my front teeth and return my eyes on the article. It says that I hated Ian’s arrival, and the picture was taken during my breakdown. That isn’t even true … not really. It’s not like I realized who he was when I got to my building, and nobody asked me about it after the encounter. 

Rosie put her hands on her hips. “No reason to be worried, kiddo. You know Ian, right? What are you scared of? That he’ll see and it and believe the media?”

“No,” I reply quickly. “I don’t care what Ian thinks. I just don’t like being made into the bad girl. The only reason I was angry yesterday was because there were two men blocking the door to my building. They said I wasn’t allowed in.”

Bill scoffs. “What were they, his bodyguards?”

Rosie clucks. “The boy can’t be that famous.”

I shrug. “It was just inconvenient,” I explain. “All I wanted was to go inside and go to bed, but they wouldn’t let me. The stupid reporters were snapping pictures and talking so loud it was maddening. So I flipped them off.”

Bill smirks. “That’s my girl.”

Rosie pats my shoulder, then walks in the back.

The bells on the door chime, causing me to glance over my shoulder. Ian strolls in, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his torn blue jeans. The black T-shirt he wears is looser than I saw most guys wear, and had some forgotten 80’s band logo on it. 

I walk up to him. “Before you say anything, nothing in the article is true. Those reporters made everything up like the soulless assholes they are.”

He presses his lips together as if to hold back his laughter. “You’re not a fan of the media, are you?”

“And you are?” I challenge.

He shakes his head. “Nah, they’re annoying as hell. I’m not angry about the article. I was too busy laughing at the beautiful photo of you.”

My face heats up. “Gee, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he tells me. “For the record, my boys filled me in on the incident yesterday. They like you, which isn’t common.”

His boys? “Are you talking about the steroid-induced men at the door yesterday?”

He grins. “That’s Eric and Danny. They work for me, but we’ve known each other forever. They’re cool, but … protective. We’ve been through a lot, especially since the band took off. It takes them a while to warm up to people, so admitting they actually like you is impressive. Don’t worry about them, though. I told them they didn’t need to stick around. That was just my buddies worrying about me.”

I roll my eyes. “Again, thanks.” 

Rosie leans on the counter. “Listen, pretty boy. We really need Kasey today, so unless you’re going to ask her out or order something, wrap up your little get together.”

I stare at Rosie, trying to contain my laughter. She’s always straightforward, which is what I love about her. 

Ian clears his throat. “I wouldn’t mind a coffee,” he admits, sitting on the stool at the counter. 

I walk behind the counter and grab a mug out.

“How do you like it?”

“There are so many ways I’d like to answer that question,” he muses, winking at me. “But for now, just as it is. No milk or sugar.”

I wrinkle my nose. I’m not a coffee fan to begin with, but just black coffee? That is disgusting.

“Not a coffee fan?” he guesses.

I shake my head.

“What about tea?”

“Nope.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Hot chocolate?”

I smile at that, but don’t answer.

“I remember when we were kids you had an obsession with chocolate. You used to smuggle candy bars in your backpack, remember? We’d sit underneath the slides and eat until recess was over.”

I pour his coffee, meeting his eyes. “I remember. I’m still obsessed with chocolate, by the way. Some things never change.”

He looks down at his coffee, running his finger across the rim of the cup. “You have though. You’re different than I remember you.”

I wipe off the counter with my rag. “We haven’t seen each other since we were like ten, Ian. Of course I’ve changed. We both have.”

Rosie rings the bell. I grab the tray of food for table eight and head toward the back dining room. When I’m sure they are satisfied, I make my way back to the front where Ian is watching me closely.

“I know your mom told you staring was rude,” I say casually.

He gives me a boyish grin, showing some of his pearly whites. “I’m just amazed.”

“Why?” I tease, “Because I’m different? Just say it, Ian. You’ve noticed that I’m not the same overweight person you knew twelve years ago. I was a chubby, food-obsessed little girl.”

His blue eyes brighten. “I didn’t want to mention it, but you look damn good. I’m not saying you didn’t back then, but it really shows now.”

“That’s your other head talking, boy,” Bill calls from his booth.

I laugh. “Mind your own business, Bill!”

He winks. “I’ve got to keep an eye out for you, girl. Somebody around here has to.”

“Hey!” Rosie complains from the back, poking her head out so she could see him. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

“Fine, it’s a joint custody,” Bill compromises.

Rosie nods once in agreement.

I focus on putting some of the clean dishes away, ignoring the way Ian is looking at me. He’s confused, and I know why.

“What about your mom?”

I cringe when everyone falls silent.

“Her mother is a sore subject,” Rosie explains sourly, walking out of the kitchen and putting her arm around my shoulder.

“What happened? You two were so close.”

I press my lips together. “Like you said,” I murmur, “things change. People change. Not everybody does for the better, and I think we should just leave it at that.”

Rosie rubs my arm in comfort.

Bill comes up to me and puts a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “Everything will be all right, darlin’. It always is when you have us.”

I smile and give him a peck on the cheek, waving him off as he walks out the door. 

“I’m sorry,” Ian apologizes softly. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No,” Rosie agrees, “you shouldn’t have.”

“He didn’t mean any harm,” I murmur. 

She puts her hands on her hips like she’s going to scold me. I always know when I was about to be chided based on the spark that lights up her brown eyes. 

“If he stayed in touch, he would know.”

I wince, because she isn’t wrong.

My eyes travel to Ian. “Listen, I need to get back to work. Do you want anything else? Or will the coffee be all?”

He stares at me with dull eyes. “Why don’t we catch up then? I have some free time tonight.”

I bite my thumbnail. “I can’t.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

I hesitate.

He leans forward. “Let me take you out, Kay.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

He looks perplexed. “You really have changed, huh?”

All I can do is shrug.

Rosie gives him the bill. “Why don’t you leave the poor girl alone?”

“It’s okay,” I tell her quietly, even though part of me thinks it’s not. 

“No,” she disagrees, focusing her eyes on me, “it’s not. He of all people should know what lack of privacy feels like. Small towns like ours just makes it harder.”

Ian says, “I’m sorry if I offended you. I just—”

“You should be!” Rosie exclaims.

“Stop!” I blast, looking at her. “I can take care of myself, Rose. I know there have been times that I didn’t prove that to you, but I assure you’ve I’ve grown since then. How would he know about Mom or anything around this town? He’s lucky he even managed to leave. If I were him, I would never look back, and never ask questions.”

She presses her lips together then, and walks in the back. The last thing I want is to hurt her feelings, because she took me under her wing when I was a teenager. She was the step-in-mom that I needed for a while, but I knew how to take care of myself now.

Ian pulls a five-dollar bill out of his pocket. “I’m really sorry, Kasey. She’s right, I should have kept in contact. I didn’t realize things would change so much.”

I scoff to myself. He doesn’t think twelve years is plenty of time to change? Did he think I’d still be the overweight little girl who shoved candy in her mouth every five minutes? Or that everybody else would be the same age as when he left? 

I do my best to refrain from rolling my eyes at how ridiculous that is. 

I make change for him. “Rose is just very protective of me. When I was teenager some stuff happened that I didn’t cope with very well. I became a very … angry person. I got into some trouble, and since then she’s kept a pretty good eye on me.”

I pass him the change, but he shakes his head. “Keep it. You deserve it.”

I put it in the tip jar.

“So how about catching up?”

My lips twitch into a frown. “I really can’t, Ian.”

He nods once, standing up. “I’ll admit, I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected before.”

I give him an empty smile. “I’m sure you’ll find a girl to say yes to you.”

“I’ve got plenty of girls to say yes to me.”

Of course you do. 

“Then ask one of them out.”

“I’m not interested in them,” he informs me.

My eyebrows raise. “Why is that?”

He leans his arms on the counter. “None of them are you, Kasey. None of them were my friends, they’re just infatuated with my lifestyle ... the fame.”

That’s sad.

“Plus,” he adds, “nobody can forget their first kiss.”

My old childhood house is falling apart from the outside in, which only increases my anticipation to move my little sister out. I’ve been planning the move for weeks, fought with my mother about it for weeks, and made the extra bedroom into a five-year-old’s paradise. I bought everything Taylor will need to be comfortable, including new toys to soften the blow. 

Although, I doubt she will put up a fight today. 

She loves Mom, but only by default.

Taylor practically tackles me as soon as I walk into the house. She’s wearing the same exact outfit she had on yesterday, and by the smell of it, she’s worn it longer than that. We hold hands as I walk us into the kitchen.

Mom has a cigarette in one hand and her cell phone in the other. The place is a disaster. It looks like the refrigerator exploded, and all of the contents inside splattered all over the place. The sink is full of dirty dishes, and there are at least four boxes of leftover pizza with ants crawling in it on the counter. 

I don’t dare inhale through my nose, because God only knows what bacteria is spreading through the air. 

“Oh good, you’re here,” Mom says, standing up. She grabs her jacket and purse. “She needs to stay with you for a while. I’m going out of town.”

Did she forget I was taking her anyway?

“Again?” I ask instead.

She shrugs, finishing off her wine. “Michael needs me to pick him up, and we’re going on a little vacation. Nobody else is willing to watch Taylor. You obviously have plenty of time on your hands.”

“Go get your things,” I tell Taylor through clenched teeth. She may only be five, but she knows when things are going to get ugly.

As soon as she’s upstairs, I turn to Mom. “I am working double shifts at the diner to make ends meet, and raising your child. So don’t you dare tell me that I have time on my hands! I can barely go an hour without you asking me for something.”

I gesture around me. “And what the hell happened in here? Taylor can get sick from all the shit you have lying around. When was the last time you did the fucking laundry? She smells like smoke and Febreze.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “You don’t have any right questioning me after all I’ve done for you.”

My hands are shaking from the anger she’s making me hold back. If Taylor wasn’t in the house I would scream, but I don’t want her hearing that side of me. That side of me sounds too much like my mother, and I’d rather die first than ever let myself become like her.

Mom knows that I wouldn’t be around if it weren’t for Taylor. If Taylor was living with Dad she would probably be better off, which is sad since we have a poor excuse of a father, too. 

“I’ve been taking care of myself since Dad left,” I point out gingerly. “Taylor wouldn’t have half of the shit she does if it weren’t for me. You haven’t done shit for anybody but yourself and your sleazy boyfriend!”

She slaps me across the face so hard my head whips to the side. The impact stings, but not as much as knowing that my own mother had no hesitation to hit me. It takes everything I have not to hit her back.

“Do you do that to Taylor?” I hiss. 

She narrows her eyes at me. “She doesn’t have the nerve to talk back to me like her bitch of a sister does. If she deserved it—”

“Nobody deserves to be abused,” I inform her coldly. “And if you ever hit me again I’m calling the fucking police. Do you understand me?”

She glares. “You’re just like your father,” she replies, putting out her cigarette. “All talk and no show. Why don’t you get out of my face?”

I want to remind her that Dad did more than just talk. He got out. He left. I know if I say that, it’ll only make matters worse, since he was the one who jumpstarted this whole thing. 

Taylor shows up then with her backpack. She looks between Mom and me with wide eyes. She knows that Mom is angry, and she probably senses I’m angrier. Instead of letting it get to me, I take Taylor’s hand.

“Do you have everything? Your homework?”

She nods, hiding behind me. 

I look at Mom. “You will always be a poor excuse of a mother,” I state before walking out with Taylor by my side.

The car ride is quick, since I only live across town. The windows are rolled down because of the horrible smell coming from Taylor. I know it isn’t her fault. Mom doesn’t care about anybody but herself anymore, not even with her own child. At first, I thought she was going through some mid-life crisis early, where she thought she could convert all her worries to herself, like she never had kids to begin with.

But this new version of her started after Dad left. It’s not a mid-life crisis. It’s just … how she is now. 

As soon as we get to my apartment, I make Taylor go to the guest bedroom and pick out an outfit. There’s no way I’m letting her walk around looking this way. It doesn’t surprise me when she comes skipping out of her room with a wide smile on her face and a pink tutu dress draped across her arm.

“Ready for a bath?” I ask, stroking her blonde hair—hair identical to my own honey color.

She scrunches her nose. “Mommy doesn’t make me take baths.”

I kneel down to her level. “That’s because Mom wasn’t doing her job. You can’t keep going to school the way you are. Bathing is really important, Taylor. So is wearing clean clothes. That’s why I bought you all of those clothes in there. Okay?”

Her hazel eyes light up. “Those are mine?”

I tap her nose. “Every single one of them.”

She hugs me tightly around my neck. I pick her up and take her into the bathroom, grabbing a Barbie bath towel for her to use after her bubble bath. I let her get undressed while I run the water, making sure it isn’t too hot.

I comb her hair before she gets in so it won’t knot as bad after I wash it. She sits in the tub happily, pretending her Barbie is a mermaid. 

“What’s her name?”

“Kasey,” she answers cheerfully.

I smile to myself as I wet her hair down. “Why did you name your Barbie after me?”

“You gave her to me.”

I grab the shampoo and start working it into her thick hair. “I forgot about that. That was a couple years ago. I’m surprised you still have it.”

“It’s my favorite.”

My smile widens. “I’m glad you like it, Tay.”

She starts talking to it as she plays in the bubbly water. When I’m done washing and rinsing her hair, I pass her a washcloth and instructed her to clean the rest of herself up. She does so happily, humming to herself a tune that I’m not familiar with.

After her bath, she dries off, gets dressed, and follows me into the living room. I slowly comb her hair as she watches SpongeBob, trying my best not to tug too hard. I braid it back since it’s finally long enough. During the beginning of the summer I had to take her to the hairdresser to get it cut, because the split ends she had were horrible. 

There’s a knock at the door just as I tie off the end of the braid. Taylor jumps up and runs toward the door, her bare feet thumping against the hardwood.

“Taylor!” I warn as she reaches for the handle.

She opens it just as I walk up to her. I pull her away from the door in fear of who it is. Mom doesn’t know where I live, but it’s a small town. She can easily look for my vehicle and find it. Of course, she would have to actually care that I took away her child first.

Ian stands at the door, easing some of my worry.

I turn around momentarily, directing my gaze down at Taylor. She looks up at me, dimples popping up on her cheeks. I scold, “Don’t answer the door again. It’s dangerous.”

She frowns.

“Why are you here?” I ask, turning my attention back on Ian. 

He peels his eyes off Taylor. “I uh … brought you hot chocolate,” he mutters. He clears his throat and passes me one of the Styrofoam cups. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you …”

Taylor already moved on to better things, running into the living room to play with her dolls on the floor. I know she doesn’t have a great attention span, and it helped me in this case.

“She looks just like you,” he tells me quietly. He appears to be uncomfortable, which is entertaining to see since he was so cocky last night. “If I knew that you had a family I wouldn’t have hit on you.”

I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of me.

His eyebrow raises. 

“The reason we look so much alike is because she’s my sister,” I explain in amusement. I could have played along and pretended I was unavailable, but the last thing I needed is Taylor to overhear my lie and believe that she’s mine.

Relief floods his features. “I was about to compliment you for having that body after a kid,” he says next, returning to his cocky self. 

I peer down at my body. I don’t see how he can really tell what I look like since I’m wearing skinny jeans and a baggy sweatshirt.

“Uh … thanks?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who doesn’t see how beautiful they are. Or one of those girls who starves herself to look pretty.”

I put the cup down on the top of the shelf. “I’m not one of those girls,” I inform him. “In fact, I’m pretty sure if we had an eating competition, I’d win. I seem to recall you remembering my previous body type when we were little?”

Taylor shows back up. “Is he your boyfriend?”

I blush. “No, Tay.”

Ian smirks. “Do you think we’d make a good couple?” he asks her, kneeling so they’re eye level to each other.

Smiling, Taylor nods. 

He looks up at me and winks. “What would you say about catching up tomorrow night? I can pick you up around seven thirty.”

Is he serious?

Taylor tugs on my hand. “Sissy, say yes!”

“No.”

She frowns. “He likes you.”

“Yeah, Kasey,” Ian agrees, “say yes.”

I shake my head. “Taylor has dance practice that runs until eight. I have to bring her there at seven and pick her back up.” 

“So we’ll go out before you have to bring her. Or while she’s there.”

Does he not get the hint? “I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“Because …” I glance at Taylor. “I promised Taylor that we’d have a girl’s day. I can’t break a promise, can I? She’d be devastated.”

“No you didn’t!” she argues.

I eye her.

Ian laughs. “Are you lying, Kasey? I’m shocked.”

“You says it’s bad to lie,” Taylor tells me. 

“It’s ‘said,’ Taylor,” I correct her. 

She sticks out her bottom lip. “Santa won’t come.”

Ian nods along with her. “She’s right, Kasey. What would you do if Santa Claus didn’t come this Christmas because you lied to me?”

He’s got to be kidding me. He’s totally using my own sister as a weapon! If anything, that’s my job. And the worst part is, Taylor likes him. She doesn’t like a lot of people, especially guys, after the winners Mom tends to bring home.

“Do you want coal?” Taylor asks me in a small voice, like saying the word coal is bad.

Ian matches her pouty face. “Do you, Kasey?”

“Oh for crying out loud,” I grumble. “You’re right, Taylor. Lying is bad, but I wasn’t technically lying. I thought you and I could have a girl’s day since I finally had a day off.”

She perks up. “With ice cream?”

“And extra whipped cream,” I promise.

“I’ll take you,” he offers.

“You’re not a girl,” I point out slowly.

“One drink.” He stands back up. “What do I have to do, Kay? All I want is a chance to catch up on what I missed.”

“I told you not to call me Kay.”

“Mommy calls you Kay,” Taylor says.

Which is one of the reasons I hate it. When Ian used to call me Kay I didn’t mind it. When Mom started to, it ruined everything because it was out of spite. Dad started the nickname, and ever since Mom used to just start a fight between us. Anything involving her went straight to hell.

“I don’t like it.” I sigh. “And I don’t drink.” I inform him. I want to give him the hot chocolate back, but I know as soon as he leaves I’ll down it. Hot chocolate is my weakness.

“Just hot chocolate,” he offers. “Give me a chance, Kay— Kasey. I’m figuring out your likes and dislikes, it’s going to take time to remember.”

“Ian, why? What’s the point?”

Taylor looks up at him. “Why do you wanna take my sissy out? Do you wanna marry her?”

“Taylor!” I hiss in embarrassment. 

Ian smiles. “I’m not sure, Taylor. Do you think I should marry your sister?”

She nods enthusiastically.

It’s a good thing that five-year-olds don’t dictate marriage, or else I’d be married off by tomorrow.

I put my hand on the door, hoping he’ll see I’m busy. He isn’t trying to be pushy, and I’m not trying to be rude. I just have better things to do than listen to him ask me out over and over again.

Which, okay, I admit is kind of rude. 

He puts his hand on the door next to mine. “Is it something I did? We used to be close, Kasey. What happened to us? Nobody could tear us apart when we were young, and now it’s like you don’t even want to see my face.”

I don’t.

Taylor tugs on his pant leg. “Do you love her?”

“Taylor, please go play somewhere else.”

She looks at me with curious eyes. “If you was friends then why are you sad?”

“It’s ‘were’ not ‘was’ in this case.” I kneel down in front of her and smile warmly. “This conversation is for adults, okay? Can you please go watch TV and let Ian and I talk?”

She sticks her bottom lip out, but nods. I kiss her forehead and wait until she’s back on the couch and consumed in the world of SpongeBob.

Ian casually leans against the doorjamb. “Can I come in, or is that off limits, too?”

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. 

He nods once, like he understands. “Whatever I did to you, I’m sorry. If it’s about earlier … I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He turns to leave, but I stop him. “Wait.”

He stops. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologize quietly. “You didn’t do anything, okay? It’s me. I’m going through a lot, and I don’t have time to go out and catch up. I mean, I never thought I’d ever see you again. It’s a lot, Ian.”

“How about dinner in then?” he suggests.

I gape at him. “You just won’t give up, will you?” 

He smirks. “Why would I? I know what I want.”

My heart should have spiked like they did in the books I read, but I wasn’t affected by his words. They’re sweet, but they aren’t what I’m looking for. 

I don’t believe in fairytales, and I don’t want an ending where I ride off in the sunset with my Prince Charming.

Ian doesn’t realize it, but he’s on the list of the top three people I don’t want to see.

“What did I do?” he asks, as if he heard my thoughts.

It’s what you didn’t do.

“Nothing,” I lie, walking into the kitchen and grabbing myself a bottle of water. 

He walks in, closing the door behind him. He keeps his distance, leaning against the door with his hands stuffed in his pockets. The way he looks at me makes me feel bad for him, which is the last thing I want. Why can’t I just stay mad at him like I planned? That would make things so much easier for me.

“Don’t give me that look,” I mutter, hopping up on the counter.

His eyebrows arch. “What look?”

“You’re doing that eye thing that you did when we were kids,” I inform him gingerly. “You always got everything you wanted with those damn eyes.”

That makes him smile. “Is that a good thing?”

“For you. Not me.”

Pushing off the door, he walks over to the counter. He leans against the granite countertop, giving me the same look he did before.

“Stop,” I complain.

“I know when you’re lying, Kasey. I always know.”

I stare at him for a short minute, then direct my gaze at Taylor. She’s singing along with some cartoon theme song I’ve never heard of, bouncing where she sits on the couch. I smile at the sight of her.

I remember when I was that happy, without a care in the world. 

“Kasey?” Ian says quietly.

I snap out of it. “I’m angry at you.”

He just stares at me.

I blush. “I’m angry that you left, Ian. You never called. You never e-mailed. You never visited. It was like after you moved, you just stopped caring. And then …”

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I refuse to let them. Tears are weakness; that’s the one thing Mom told me and I believed. 

I saw what hers did to her. It seemed like she got weaker with every one she shed.

He walks over to me, taking my hands in his. “What, Kasey?”

I shake my head. “Everything bad that happened started after you left. As if losing my best friend wasn’t bad enough, I lost my father and then my mother. They’re not the same people you used to know. Especially my mother. And Taylor … she’ll never have her parents.”

He squeezes my hands, causing me to meet his apologetic blue eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs softly, brushing his thumb across the back of my hands.

Taking a deep breath, I pull my hand away from his. “I think I’m just angry that I don’t have the happy parents I used to. I never really made many other friends after you left. I was …”

“Lonely,” he offers.

I gnaw the inside of my cheek. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was. When Mom had Taylor it wasn’t so bad. I was the one who took care of her all of the time, so she kept me occupied.”

“I know how that feels,” he replies. “To feel lonely, I mean.”

How can he know how it feels? “You’re famous. How can you possibly understand what it feels like when you’ve got people chasing after you all the time?”

He averts his eyes from me. “Sometimes the people you’d expect to be the happiest are actually the loneliest souls.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“I don’t understand,” I admit.

He dismisses it. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here now. I’m sorry I never tried, Kasey. I wanted to, but there were some complications.”

“Complications that lasted twelve years?” I doubt, a little more coolly than I intended.

“Kasey—”

“Don’t you dare make any excuses,” I cut him off, hopping down from the counter. “I’ve been told a billion excuses since I was ten, and I’m done hearing them. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve taken matters into my own hands since you last knew me. I’ve grown up into my own person, and you don’t know me anymore. The last thing I need is to be tainted by the bullshit you’re going to tell me. Nothing can keep a person busy for that long, Ian. Nothing.”

Frowning, he steps toward me. I hold up my hand to stop him from advancing, and it works. I want him to keep his distance, because I have no control over what I would do now.

“I’m sorry …” 

I walk to the door and open it. “Don’t be sorry. Just own up to your choices, because that’s all you can do at this point. It’s time you go now.”

He doesn’t argue with me. He walks out the door and turns around. “I’m not giving up, Kase. I came back here because I knew you were the one person I could count on to fill the … emptiness that I’ve been feeling. I need my friend back.”

My heart hurts. “There’s one problem with that,” I point out, looking him straight in the eyes. “We’re not friends anymore, Ian.”