She drew his hand down from her face. "We should go."
David looked at their hands knotted together. "You sure you want to go to the coffee shop?"
"I already promised Luce. And Ryan will be there. He wasn't here when I got in."
"Didn't he get back yesterday?"
Why, yes he did. "You'd think he could have at least been here to say hello," she said. "I haven't seen him in months."
"I haven't seen you in months," he said with a little smile. "What about some time alone?"
She pecked his cheek. "Later. I promise."
When they got to the coffee shop, they had to park down the street, there were so many cars already there. "Who the heck's playing?" she asked.
"Just open mic night, as far as I know." He smirked, nudging her shoulder. "Maybe they're anticipating you finally getting up there."
Fiona gestured to the empty place against her back, where her guitar wasn't. "Then they know something I don't."
She'd gotten through the whole semester without having to play for anybody. Luckily, Flem wanted to hear himself more than his students. But from the description of next semester's music class, she doubted she'd get so lucky again.
David shrugged. "It's probably just people home from school."
They found Lucy in the nook, sprawled across the futon, her battered boots clamped on the chair across from it. "Nice of you to finally get here," she said, sitting up. "I'm like the cranky old lady saving seats on Christmas Eve."
"A cranky old lady," Fiona said, hugging her much-missed best friend. "Such a stretch."
Lucy and David did a sideways, back-pat kind of hug before settling in. Because of the crowd, Fiona had to raise her voice. "Where's Ryan?"
Lucy pointed to a crowd at the bar. A few people separated him from Gwen, who now stood on the customer side of the counter. Her back to Ryan, she appeared to be in an animated conversation with people Fiona didn't know. Ryan was talking with a neighboring clump of strangers.
She couldn't believe he hadn't waited at home for her. She thought of their dad and uncle, who spoke only three times a year; they exchanged birthday and Christmas cards. It hurt her heart that she and Ryan might end up like that.
"Who wants what?" she asked, leaving David and Lucy so she could go claim her brother.
She said hello to Gwen and her friends. Then she hugged Ryan and asked if he'd grown, it'd been so long since she'd seen him. He rolled his eyes and poked the guy next to him, whose back was to them both. "Hey, this guy goes to NU. He said he knows you."
Oh crap, she knew that wrinkled button-down, those jeans, which looked so comfortable she'd considered stealing them on more than one occasion. Fiona's heart began to pound and would not listen to her commands to calm down.
The dark, wavy hair slowly turned. Jackson faced her, smiling lopsided. He pointed a thumb at Ryan. "I met the brother."
"So I see," she said.
"Did you really cry in the cafeteria last week?" Ryan asked, laughing. "When it snowed?"
"I did not cry."
"Please," Jackson said. "You were totally watery."
"Watery is not crying." The coffee shop guy handed her three mugs from his side of the counter. She picked up two, frowning at the third. "Ryan, help me with Lucy's."
"A very fine hair to split." Jackson stepped forward, picking up the third mug. "Point me toward this Lucy person."
Ryan nearly spit out his coffee. "Dude, you don't know what you're getting into."
"Now I'm really curious." He leaned close, whispering conspiratorially. "It might be a clue to the enigma of Fiona Doyle."
It was ridiculous how quickly her traitorous body reacted.
Jackson motioned her forward with his head. "After you."
Fiona widened her eyes at her brother, hoping he would correctly interpret her desperate look, which said: Grab that cup from him. Jackson belongs to Northwestern Fiona, not Memphis Fiona.
Unfortunately, he did not correctly interpret. Instead he turned toward Gwen and asked, "Babe, are those two with the dueling harmonicas playing tonight? They're hilarious."
Taking a deep breath, Fiona headed to the nook and tried to convince herself she was overreacting. When she handed David his mug, he looked to the stranger at her side-and back to her. She couldn't make eye contact with him. Instead, Fiona focused on her best friend. Lucy, too, was glancing between her and Jackson.
"So this is Lucy," Fiona said. "And David. Y'all, this is Jackson King. He goes to Northwestern, too."
Fiona cringed at the slow, totally inappropriate smile spreading across Lucy's face. "Well, Jackson King, it's nice to meet you. I've heard-"
Fiona coughed. Lucy caught her eye and let the rest of her statement fade away.
Jackson handed Lucy her mug and plopped down beside her. "Now, you look familiar." He looked up at Fiona, who stood helplessly at the end of the futon. "How could I possibly recognize your friend and not you? It's so wrong, the world's off balance-like a cat with a bandanna around its middle."
This was not happening. "It's the hair," Fiona said.
Jackson got another look at Lucy's wild, tall hair. Hair that "possessed its own soul," Lucy liked to say.
"It is pretty memorable," Jackson said, his eyes a little wider.
Fiona closed her eyes, took a breath, then opened them in David's direction. "He's sort of replacement Lucy. At school, I mean. It seems I'm a glutton for abuse . . . and strange metaphors."
"Another clue!" Jackson said. Then his eyes moved between her, perched on David's armchair, and David.
Fiona gestured to her unhelpfully silent best friend. "Feel free to take over any time."
"I don't have the heart, my friend," Lucy said, staring past Fiona's right shoulder.
Fiona followed Lucy's gaze. If she weren't hovering near a meltdown, she might have laughed. Because of course this was the perfect moment for Trent McKinnon to walk over and say hello.
Oh, but college had treated him well. Trent filled out his shirt like the fine male specimen he was. Given the bronze color of his face, she figured he must train outside most of the time. Wide, natural swipes of light blond highlighted his hair. The boy was, indisputably, part god.
But he wasn't Jackson King, was he?
"Hey, partner," he said, smacking Fiona on the shoulder. "Long time no see." Trent nodded to the others before turning back to Fiona. "Man, you look awesome."
"Oh. Thanks."
Trent bent his knees and brought his face inches from hers. Their eyes lined up-and then he looked at her like she'd never been looked at before. Her attraction to Jackson notwithstanding, she wasn't made of stone. Trent McKinnon was her first love, and they were close enough to kiss.
She was The. Worst. Girlfriend. Ever.
However, as his eyes continued to rake from left to right, she stopped swooning-and started feeling like a science exhibit.
"Seriously. I mean, it's incredible," he was saying.
David's hand tightened around her waist. Jackson leaned forward, his eyes darting between Trent and Fiona-not that they had far to travel. No one said anything for several long seconds as Trent continued scrutinizing her face.
The other three interrupted him at once.
"Dude, how about you give her some air?" said Jackson. "All right, show's over," Lucy said. And David: "Trent."
Trent straightened, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. "Sorry. It's just . . ."
"Incredible. Yes, we know," Lucy said. "Hey, could you send Ryan Doyle over here?"
"Oh. Yeah," Trent said. After an awkward second, he pivoted toward the bar. "See you later, partner."
"Trent," Fiona called, because despite the inspection, she'd always have a soft spot for him. "Don't lose touch with the soil."
He smiled, fired a finger-gun at her, and disappeared into the crowd.
David's hand was still clenched around her waist. "I know you're friends with him, but Jesus, Fiona. That was ridiculous."
"He was being nice," she muttered.
"It was like you were a freaking science fair project." His voice came out louder than normal. It made Fiona look at him twice.
Ryan walked up. "What's going on? Trent McKinnon said I had to come over."
"I needed to give him an activity," Lucy said.
Jackson's eyes hadn't moved from Trent. "That dude's an asshole, right?" he asked no one in particular.
Ryan and David said yes, Fiona no, and Lucy meh.
"Okay, it's girl time," Lucy said, standing and pulling Fiona up with her. "See you boys later."