At the Stars(47)

“Still thinking you might not stay too much longer?” Delia’s head hovers right over my shoulder when she asks, and my face flames from the realization that I’ve been caught staring.

Busted. Totally busted.

“Yes. I think so. Probably.” Maybe? The more I think about it, the less I’m sure. After all, I hadn’t decided for sure on where I’d be headed next. Who says I need to head anywhere? Except I’d planned on a road trip and I only ever made it as far as Evergreen Grove.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stay only for Jake.

“It seems like you really like him.” She nods toward the direction of my thoughts.

“Thanks, but... I don’t think he’s looking for anything serious.”

“Hmm.” Something that looks uncomfortably like sympathy crosses Delia’s face. “That’s tricky, I suppose. Things can change, though. Never say never.” She pokes gently at my shoulder. “Keep me informed of your plans if you would, please. I’ve been thinking I’d like to scale back my hours in the next year or so. I’d need someone to take over managing. It would mean more responsibility. More money.”

“Oh. Wow.” In my desperately optimistic moments of wondering what if I’d stayed, I’d realized sadly that my income from Delia’s probably wouldn’t pay rent on a real apartment. Maybe a manager’s salary would.

But this wasn’t my plan. I don’t even know if Jake feels the way I do.

“It’s a nice little town,” Delia says. “Don’t make your decision based on a boy.”

I laugh. She couldn’t have read my mind, but she sure did have me pegged. “That’s good advice. I’ll let you know if my plans change.” I throw my arms around her. “Thank you. For giving me a chance. You’ve been amazing.”

“You’re pretty special yourself, kiddo.”

I try to remember my mother saying those things to me. Trying too hard forms a big old ball of emotion in the dead center of my throat, so I swallow hard and stop wishing for what never was.

I know my mom loved me. I remember her doing things for me when I was young, like making a birthday cake shaped like a cat and homemade hot cocoa when I came in from the cold. A parent doesn’t do those things if they don’t care. I think she just got so consumed by her mental illness over time and by stress that she forgot to say the positive things. Or she couldn’t see them anymore.

I grab a napkin from the table display to wipe at my eyes, giving Delia a mumbled “Thank you.”

She squeezes my shoulder and hands me a paper cup of coffee, but doesn’t use any more words. The way she pats my arm before she walks away, I think she must understand.





15. A GHOST


Jake

It’s exciting watching Cassie set up on stage. Every time she scoots her chair or plucks a string, the vibration strikes in the center of my chest. I know she warned me she hasn’t done this in a while, but up there in front of all those people, she looks ready to go.

She looks beautiful.

Since it’s the Founders’ Day celebration, Joe’s opened up the back patio doors and put extra microphones up to catch the sound of her acoustic guitar. The place is packed with people in high spirits, and every hair on my body is standing on end for her.

The familiar black feeling is inside me like always, though maybe tonight it’s not so dark. Ever since the moment I realized Davidson wasn’t faking at being KO’d, I’ve felt sick inside. Like I said to Cassie, there’s no way to ever take it back. It’s a phantom living inside me all the time. A ghost.

Telling Cassie—the way she heard it all and told me it wasn’t my fault—she blasted a bright light on that blackness. It didn’t go away, but for the first time, everything looked different. It didn’t look so fucking hopeless.

Dante sidles up next to me. “Hey, you get my message?”

Then again, there’s this shit. Just when I think I’m starting to make peace with my past, it tries to track me down. “Yeah, I got your text. Where is he?”

“Last I saw, he was chillin’ down on the corner with one of those smoked turkey legs in his mitt from the Heart and Hearth. If he’s asked around though, he’ll know to look for you here. Best thing would be to bug out.”

“Shit.” I scan the audience from behind the bar. My exits are through the crowd at the front entrance, across from Cassie out the patio door, or behind me. I can duck into the kitchen and sneak down the stairs through Delia’s. It’s the best way, and maybe nobody will even notice me leaving. I don’t like it, though. “I’ll miss hearing Cassie’s set.”