really wasn’t what Cassidy needed, either.
The TV flickered before it returned to the main Netflix menu, and still she sat there with nothing but a headful of doubt and an uneasy feeling pulling at her stomach until her mom’s voice cut through the silence, startling her. “Cassidy, honey? We’re home. Come say hi to Nana,” her mother called up from the spot at the base of the stairs where she always stood to make announcements Cassidy needed to hear beyond her always-closed bedroom door.
“Just a minute, Mom,” she replied with a despondent sigh.
Reaching over for the remote, something black on the floor caught her attention. Brynn’s cute Mary Janes. Jesus tap-dancing Christ, the girl had been so distraught she left without her shoes. That added a whole new level of insecurity to Cassidy’s already mounting incertitude. Am I really so bad that she couldn’t wait to get away from me? And there she thought Brynn had been genuinely enjoying her company, just as she had been thoroughly enjoying Brynn’s.
Guess not.
She thought about taking Brynn’s shoes back to her, but decided against it. Not only did she not really know which house was Brynn’s since they all looked alike, but she didn’t want to seem like a desperate stalker, checking up on the girl who had just rocketed out of her house because obviously she thought Cassidy was a freak.
So this is what she feels like at school. How horrible.
It was a feeling Cassidy didn’t want to experience again.
Picking up the shoes, she allowed herself a moment to feel the supple leather—to take in the feel of the only thing she had of Brynn’s—before she put them into her backpack so she could return them to her at school on Monday.
With the last trace of Brynn gone, she padded down the stairs and sat with her mother and grandmother in the kitchen while they made dinner. The rest of the evening was spent talking over food about her school activities, her grandmother’s adventures in composting, and her mother’s newfound love of gardening. Through all the chatter, Cassidy kept her wrist close to her face. The spot where Brynn’s hand had delicately wrapped around it—warmly, caringly—when Cassidy told her about her father. It was stupid, but she felt close to Brynn that way. Why she even wanted to feel close to a girl who obviously didn’t feel the same way about her was even stupider, but she did it anyway.
By the time everyone in the house agreed on plans for the following day and went to bed, Cassidy still hadn’t shaken Brynn, or the way Brynn had reacted, from her system. She lay awake for hours, looking out the open window at the night sky, wondering for the millionth time why Brynn had taken off like a bat outta hell. She finally fell asleep with a clouded head and her wrist tucked tightly against her chest.
She awoke the same way too. The morning sun peered in past the sheer curtains, warming her face with its gentle rays. The aroma of toast and coffee lingered in the air, replacing the last, faint trace of Brynn’s scent from her room.
What did it mean when your last thoughts of the night and first thoughts of the day were of the same person? Nothing good, that much was sure. Not when said person didn’t feel the same way she did, nor did it appear that Brynn was even into playing for the same team she did. Talk about a whole other league. Brynn wasn’t just outside the league, she was in a whole different ballpark, playing a totally different game altogether… and that just made Cassidy want her even more. Chalk it up to her competitive nature and her determined attitude.
She finally let go of the wrist she’d been clinging to all night long and rose from the bed, ready to face a day without Brynn Michaels padding through her head.
That mentality lasted all of maybe two hours.
Her grandmother and mom decided to change their plans and head out to the beach instead, since the day was too beautiful to pass up the opportunity. It
The TV flickered before it returned to the main Netflix menu, and still she sat there with nothing but a headful of doubt and an uneasy feeling pulling at her stomach until her mom’s voice cut through the silence, startling her. “Cassidy, honey? We’re home. Come say hi to Nana,” her mother called up from the spot at the base of the stairs where she always stood to make announcements Cassidy needed to hear beyond her always-closed bedroom door.
“Just a minute, Mom,” she replied with a despondent sigh.
Reaching over for the remote, something black on the floor caught her attention. Brynn’s cute Mary Janes. Jesus tap-dancing Christ, the girl had been so distraught she left without her shoes. That added a whole new level of insecurity to Cassidy’s already mounting incertitude. Am I really so bad that she couldn’t wait to get away from me? And there she thought Brynn had been genuinely enjoying her company, just as she had been thoroughly enjoying Brynn’s.
Guess not.
She thought about taking Brynn’s shoes back to her, but decided against it. Not only did she not really know which house was Brynn’s since they all looked alike, but she didn’t want to seem like a desperate stalker, checking up on the girl who had just rocketed out of her house because obviously she thought Cassidy was a freak.
So this is what she feels like at school. How horrible.
It was a feeling Cassidy didn’t want to experience again.
Picking up the shoes, she allowed herself a moment to feel the supple leather—to take in the feel of the only thing she had of Brynn’s—before she put them into her backpack so she could return them to her at school on Monday.
With the last trace of Brynn gone, she padded down the stairs and sat with her mother and grandmother in the kitchen while they made dinner. The rest of the evening was spent talking over food about her school activities, her grandmother’s adventures in composting, and her mother’s newfound love of gardening. Through all the chatter, Cassidy kept her wrist close to her face. The spot where Brynn’s hand had delicately wrapped around it—warmly, caringly—when Cassidy told her about her father. It was stupid, but she felt close to Brynn that way. Why she even wanted to feel close to a girl who obviously didn’t feel the same way about her was even stupider, but she did it anyway.
By the time everyone in the house agreed on plans for the following day and went to bed, Cassidy still hadn’t shaken Brynn, or the way Brynn had reacted, from her system. She lay awake for hours, looking out the open window at the night sky, wondering for the millionth time why Brynn had taken off like a bat outta hell. She finally fell asleep with a clouded head and her wrist tucked tightly against her chest.
She awoke the same way too. The morning sun peered in past the sheer curtains, warming her face with its gentle rays. The aroma of toast and coffee lingered in the air, replacing the last, faint trace of Brynn’s scent from her room.
What did it mean when your last thoughts of the night and first thoughts of the day were of the same person? Nothing good, that much was sure. Not when said person didn’t feel the same way she did, nor did it appear that Brynn was even into playing for the same team she did. Talk about a whole other league. Brynn wasn’t just outside the league, she was in a whole different ballpark, playing a totally different game altogether… and that just made Cassidy want her even more. Chalk it up to her competitive nature and her determined attitude.
She finally let go of the wrist she’d been clinging to all night long and rose from the bed, ready to face a day without Brynn Michaels padding through her head.
That mentality lasted all of maybe two hours.
Her grandmother and mom decided to change their plans and head out to the beach instead, since the day was too beautiful to pass up the opportunity. It
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